Swan

Friend I'm most jealous of?

He's obsessed with this movie, and since it's his birthday, he got this.

He works at Pixar.
Is it obvious?

Talking about swans:
Back in the day, Mom would control my siblings and me by sitting us in front of the TV and making us watch the Disney Silly Symphony cartoons... where they'd show about four short cartoons in the matter of half an hour... I don't know if I'm making sense here.
Anyway, there were times when the Ugly Duckling would make the cut. This one:



I'd dread it. Not because I found it boring or offensive, but because I couldn't watch it without crying. I still get a little choked up, to tell you the truth. When he looks at his reflection... when even the decoy duck rejects him... Jesus Christ... how was this shit intended for children?
Obviously, I felt identified with the poor duckling... so I wouldn't be able to control myself and I'd bawl (body-shaking sobs included, ok) with every bad treatment the poor duckling encountered.
The more normal children, like my siblings, cousins, and kid neighbors, would only stare at me like "God... this girl is so emotional, get her out of here."
That's where I ask myself (now) Really... you see a kid freak out this bad with a sad cartoon and you don't ask yourself why she gets like that? That's not a red flag for you? Wow.

I said that story concerning my aunt was only the start of the bullshit I'd be forced to deal with. It was really the "formal introduction," the time someone explained why they were being mean to me.
Back when I'd get babysat by my imbecile neighbor/cousin (the one partly responsible for that infamous plastic pony to my face), she'd do mean things to me (like abandoning me for a piñata, leading to me getting my first concussion/black eye) but would never tell me why... just something about me would bug her and she'd push me, or pull my hair, or whatever. Like here, it's not obvious in this photo, but my upper lip is actually scraped (remember, I smile like a horse, so my upper lip nearly vanishes when I smile).

When I started being possessive over my baby sister.
No one would hurt her without dealing with MY FIST first.

How did it happen? I was running on a rocky surface and she tripped me. I ate shit face-first. Of course, Mom was told I was clumsy and tripped on my own... I was two and a half, totally believable. It wasn't until a little after my aunt told me what she did, that my babysitter told me nearly the same thing (it was also around this time that her older, teenaged brother interrupted Rafa and my playtime outside, and told my FOUR YEAR OLD brother he was going to kill our new baby sister. He came out of his house--we were neighbors-- with a knife in hand, and my brother damn near had a heart attack. I just stood there, crying as Bro raced to the house to lock the front door and save my sister. It was a joke, obviously, but who does that to a four and two year old? A fucking mentally unstable prick, that's who. Fifteen years later, oddly enough, Karma killed his first born. Not that I'm happy over it... the death of a baby is always unfortunate and lamentable... but I'm just saying... weird how life works out).

I'd find some solace, thinking I'd probably run the same luck as the duckling and turn into a lovely swan once I reached adulthood (not literally, obviously. I wasn't that stupid)... but uh... yeah... Disney lied to me. Although, when I look through my childhood pictures, I don't find myself to have been an ugly kid. I was just a timid little girl... who you can actually note the increasing fear and sadness the older she gets in photos. You can see that little girl break. Not cool.



Sorry, I'm still down. I'll try extra hard tomorrow to cheer up.