It was Decmeber of last year, my mother and I were going to Oakdale from Manteca every wednesday to knit with the girls at the infamous GNO. I was asked to work in the store. Which I will not mention. I showed up about 30-45 minutes early waiting to start only on of the coolest jobs I could ask for and then the owner, whom also will not be mentioned, sat me down and told me I'm some sort of crazy person for having a place where I can release my anger with out putting a face to my words. The people who know me know that I go off from time to time. Things in my world are not always peachy and full of rainbows and puppies. From what I understood I was told basically that I haven't even begun to know what the real world was like and I shouldn't complain about my wonderful life. All of this coming from a woman who knows...well pretty much jack... about me. This woman who doesn't know that my boyfriend sommited suicide when I was 18 just 4 days after my high school graduation and about a week before my family, whom I hadn't seen in a very long time, came from out of state to spend a week with me. That whole time my family didn't know how close he and I were. And how much I wanted to break down the whole week. I still regret not breaking down. I can't let go of him, I loved him so much. This woman also doesn't understand what a divorce does to a child, young or old, it rips that person apart. Esspecially when you know exactly what went wrong and that there's nothing you could possibly do to fix it. This woman told me I don't have a right to get pissed off at the world and want to kick someone's ass. Since then, my great grandmother, who was my only insight to who my real grandmother was, died. I also suffered a ovarian cyst, which was so painful. I still have not survived my boyfriends death nor my parents divorce, as I live it everyday. This whole incident has caused me to just not enjoy knitting at all. I'm slowly trying to work it back in to my daily regiment but it's difficult.
