Barbie and Tutors and Jobs, Oh my!

So I have an unhealthy obsession with Barbie movies, and I will freely admit that. I am quite fond of watching the movies, I find them interesting. What I find amazing though, what really boggles my mind is that when talking to my manager, John (the 38 year old with daughters) he admitted to watching and enjoying them too! Yeah, I thought it was a joke, until he started listing them off and saying which were the best and which needed work.
How could I not stare at him in wonder? It would've have been extremely difficult.
So then we went from Barbie to talking about jobs. I want to switch from night to morning during summer vacation so that I can get a second job at Walmart, not a bad idea right? I mean I do have to pay for college and everything, I could use the money. He says that they'll likely throw a fit and refuse, and he'd hate to lose such a hard worker (I'm not making it up, I really am a hard worker...when I see cause), but at the same time, I needed to do what I had to do, and Walmart would most definitely pay better.
So you get the part in my title about jobs and Barbie, but what is this about tutors? Do I need a tutor? Am I finally losing my brain? No. Don't be ridiculous I don't need a tutor.
What happened is I got a 60% (D) on my last chemistry exam. Yes, that's a bad grade, no I don't usually suck that much. I just got bored with the class and ceased paying attention. My mistake, and I'm fixing it. My parents seem to think I need a tutor...or well they did. Mom suggested it, but I explained what went wrong and she just shook her head and asked what I learned from this and what her concerns were. Dad on the other hand, keeps pushing it. I said over my dead body would I go meet a tutor for tutoring that I do not need, and he decides he's going to tutor me.
Not only am I not okay with that, but I hate when dad teaches me anything. He can't use simple, understandable terms, he has to teach you by telling you a number of extemely complicated things before he even gets to it, and by that time you're too confused to learn anything anyway.
Oh, the joys of living under your parent's roof. Boy I tell you...

Mom's Magic Logic

So I liked this guy who everyone said liked me, aaaand I asked him out. His response? "I have plans with my girlfriend that night." Well okay...awesome. So I shrug it off and deal. Then he tells a friend that he broke up with his girlfriend...that same day. I spent the entire weekend trying to figure out when exactly he broke up with his girlfriend. Before I asked him out, which means he's not interested, or after which means there is still hope. I have always needed to hope whole heartily or not at all, so I wanted hopes dashed or I wanted to be able to hope with little doubt.
Turns out (if my source of information is correct) that he broke up with her a month ago.
Well...that sucks. When I found out, I sort of laughed, shrugged my shoulders and went, "Well see? Now I know for sure, and I don't have to sit here hoping. What a relief!" My idiot friends just looked at me and went, "It's not okay, it's not a relief. You're not okay." Really Sherlock? Is that right?
I know I'm not okay, I know it's not a relief. I'm telling you something that is obviously a lie because I don't want to think about it now, I want to drop it. I am pretending because if I pretend to be okay, I will be okay for as long as it takes to get out of this public place, go home and cry. I don't want to cry in front of you. So do me a favor and accept my lie for the time being okay?
So I take Andrew home, drop him off and head back to my home. Alone, I do start to cry and feel sorry for myself. I barely get into my driveway when he calls and asks me to pick him up...so I do. He comments on my 'purple' face. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it, I just want to go home and go to bed.
I take him where he needs to go, dropping something off, and while he's in that house, I call my sister and tell her what happened. We don't cry in front of eachother, or share any feelings beyond "I'm pissed at..." But she's my sister, and I wanted to talk to her. Andrew gets back in the car, I hang up, drive him home and go home. Mom and her boyfriend leave and my sister walks into my room, ready to make me feel better. She never shares, never spends money on anyone but herself and friends, and never tries to make you feel better, but she did then. She offered to buy me ice cream, offered to let me have one of her Fruit by the Foots, and offered to beat him up for me.
But whatever, that's not what this is about. Yesturday I spent half the day analyzing and feeling sorry for myself, thinking "What's so wrong with me? Why do the creepy guys like me, but the guys I actually like...they're completely uninterested?" Which is not always the case, but I'm allowed my few dramatic moments. After the analyzation, I reassured myself with the never failing, always present, mom logic. I just told myself everything my mom has ever said to me in my more depressing moments. He's not the only guy I'll ever like, they're not all going to say no, and guys aren't the center of the universe, if one hurts your feelings and pride (which is what he did, he didn't break my heart, don't be ridiculous we didn't even date) you move on and get on with your life.
Like magic, Mom's advice and logic made me feel better. Feelings are easy to fix, pride heals, and guys come and go. Even without saying a word, Mom helped. It happened yesturday, and I'm sitting here today, completely content and ready for another round (not that I'll be doing anything rash when it comes to guys any time in the next...two or three years). Mom is MAGIC.