Saturday, February 11, 2006

A lack of Privacy 'Right Now..

I wish I was home alone.' Because, right now I'm in a funny mood. In the mood to blast Me Plus One or some hyper electric or beat oriented song.. And to dance and twirl in a weird outfit and to play with my hair. Haha.
I would have so much fun, if only I was alone. I get hyped up sometimes.
"Ms B Ms E Ms AUT Ms. M Ms. FUO..."

It's the only song that sounds like pop that I like. The only song with a girl with a blonde voice that I like. Besides Supermodel which I like for some reason- catchy, though I really dislike those kind of people.

Really wish I could be home alone.
I was home alone with my mom. I figured she'd be busy. But I swear..
I go downstairs and I'm paranoid as it is, listening to her footsteps, and then she comes down. She asks what I'm doing. I say I'm "looking for a book" (honestly I was reading a book of cheesy dirty jokes, haha), and she was like "what book?" I say "just any book, trying to find one to read" "Oh, do you want me to help you find one?" "Nah." "Well can I hang down here with you then?" "No no.. I'm about to go upstairs anyway" I go upstairs and then she ends up there, doing some stuff on the computer. She asks me if I want to go anywhere, I say no because I'm tired. Other things like that happen the rest of the time I'm alone with her.

So, I never really do get any time for privacy. Even when I'm locked in my room someone will always knock asking for something.
At night I was writing in my journal-thing .. (two days ago I think) and I had my door locked. My mom knocked. "Whatcha doing?" (why do they always ask?). "Writing" I say. She says she had something to give me. This means she has my pill. I say no wait I'll take it myself later. She says to take it now. I say no way. She's like "Tanyaa..." and I go "Fine.." despite how much I don't want to get off the bed, close my journal, and unlock the door to swallow a pill.
She sits down with me and then while I take my pill, she sneaks a look at my journal (well, not really sneaking, she just gave me a look and then snatched it up). I didn't protest because I hadn't written anything that personal. She says it's nice and sets it back down.
Finally she leaves after a while.

Oh yeah.. And I shared a bathroom with five people all my life. Now it's four, but yeah. For some reason mom always has to use it right when I'm getting in or getting out of the shower. It's really annoying. I need to learn to ask her before I do, haha..

The bathroom door doesn't have a lock, so we use the closet. The closet opens in front of the door, so you can open it enough to block the knob, so that if anyone opens it it'll ram against the closet door, and there's no way to get past it unless you close the door all the way and the person inside closes the closet door. Useful. Saved me a good number of walk-ins with guests. They can't seem to tell when someone's in the bathroom.
Course the lightswitch to the bathroom is actually outside of the bathroom, which is interesting. It's next to the door, in the hallway. I used to turn it off on Alex when he was taking a shower. Then he shouts and I go "OH! You're in there? Sorry!"
Sometimes we really did do it on accident though, especially if someone was using the bathroom while someone was taking a shower. You automatically feel the need to turn off the light so you forget someone's in there and do anyway....

Thank Gramps my door has a lock. Goshhh.. I used to not have a door! I was young though, so it didn't matter I guess. It had a weird rubber screen thing, that was solid enough to be a door but was.. weird and ugly looking. I think it was gone at some point. But at that time I'm sure they asked Gramps to make a door for it. He did, I asked for him to put in a lock for me.. So my brothers wouldn't steal my stuff or come in my room when I didn't want them to. I'm so glad I asked. I don't know how old I was, 8, 11?

Anyway.. I wish I could walk through one room without encountering someone, or having someone walk past me, or having someone ask me what I'm doing.

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