Entry #2 – September 14, 2015

I had a rather uneventful week, as usual. But not only do I have to write about it here, our history teacher asks us about our weekends too. I’m not sure what the point is, although she probably thinks that it helps provide a more comfortable atmosphere for people who otherwise wouldn’t want to learn about history. As someone who was obsessed with history for years as a child, it is those kinds of things which made me less interested in the subject because I associate it with mindless time wasting. Not only that, it would take up some of her precious teaching time if she didn’t then reduce the working section to make up for it. I’d go to the principal about it, but since she’s been teaching here longer than I’ve been alive I doubt it would do any good. So we had a bunch of kids who were completely nervous about trying to describe what they did during the weekend instead of learning their subject. Well, except for one guy, the new one. He seemed perfectly natural talking about his life. Now, for example, if she’d have asked Mark about astronomy, she wouldn’t have been able to shut him up for the entire period. But it just seems like a thing we used to do in our old social skills classes than something that belongs in a high school history course. At least she doesn’t talk to most of us as if we were five like my math teacher.

It reminds me of my parents. My father was born in 1972, so obviously that was before the Analgesic Scare of 1975, but my mother was born in 1977 and my grandmother has chronic headaches. So I’ve had to live with many of the many differences between the people born with the effects from the scare as opposed to the rest of the world. They married and had me pretty quickly after they met, so they may not have been fully prepared to deal with their differences. For example, even up until a few years ago my father would keep asking my mother how her day went, just like our history teacher asked us about our weekends.   And her response was usually the same as we gave in the class. Eventually, he broke the habit and stopped asking either of us that question, or using other forms of small talk. My mother also needs more time alone than my father understands, and even now they occasionally get into arguments because he thinks he did something wrong and she’s trying to explain that she just needs some time to herself. And I’m sure my father finds it frustrating that his wife and son don’t understand how he’s feeling just by looking at his face. But he can understand us much of the time, which is important for when we don’t want express to him how we are doing in words. Don’t think that they are an unhappy couple, since most of the time they’re perfectly fine. However, even when you’ve been married for over a decade and a half it takes a lot to break habits that you’ve had forced on you for the rest of your life. So I guess I should stop expecting other people to break their long-lived values and habits even though they don’t fit with the values and habits that I’ve grown up with.

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