i was getting frustrated today because i have gained so much weight that my clothes simply are not fitting properly and in my mind there really should be no reason for that, as i have been so poor i have been eating next to nothing. then i remembered that when i do eat, i basically eat jam. jam is high in carbs. okay, i don’t eat plain jam, cause that is absolutely hitting rock bottom, but i have been eating a lot of toast.
my old bff alex used to get SO PISSED because i would say “i want a toast!” instead of “a piece of toast.” i understood her frustration, but it’s one of those things we just sort of grew up saying. sometimes my grandma, grandpa, or my mom would say stuff strangely because they are from texas and speak a lot of spanglish, and it would annoy the shit out of me, but some things, like “a toast” just slipped through the cracks and became part of my vocabulary.
it sucks as you get older and realize what a shitface you have been to your parents for things that are simply not their fault or even necessarily bad. i can specifically remember one time when i was in high school and i snarled at my mom that she was saying the word “sandwich” incorrectly because she sometimes says “sangwich.” my mom and i fight like two cats in a sack and sometimes she gets way out of line with me and says fucked up things, but i remember that time she looked at me with genuine hurt and said, “i’m sorry i say that word wrong. it’s really hard for me to say that.” and i felt like a fucking douchebag, but i didn’t let it show.
sometimes i wonder if i will end up doing things like my mom and aunts do. i am so lazy and so incapable that i have never actually made a steak, but i wonder if i tried to cook one, would i inadvertently season it the same way my family would? i just wonder…
i already make the same silly faces as my mom and tell everyone how ugly i think i am, like she does. it’s so funny because it embarrasses me to no end and makes me so sad when she does that, but i do it too, all the time. it’s like an out of body experience. i can hear myself saying the words and regretting them. i can hear whomever i say it to becoming uncomfortable.
where does it end? what is true? do i know how to make a piece of meat taste exactly like my grandmother makes it just because i have eaten it like that a hundred times? was i ugly before i learned to say so, to anyone who was listening?
there are some steps you can never retrace.