Not in a depressing way at all, really. In actualities, I'm just a bit awed by everything that's gone on in the past weeks.

Instance number one: I got my very first job. Ever. It was some company that recruits young college students (or people 17+). I went around a couple days after training, trying to sell knives to people. And while they were a wonderful product, the company kind of... "forgot" to mention how much paperwork was involved between each appointment I went to. So while the time I was filling out paperwork and calling people for more appointments was going unpaid, it also filled the rest of my free time every day to give the illusion I had a full-time job on a less worthy pay.

Anyway, I quit. It was a hard decision because I was finally doing something for myself and I knew my brother would be disappointed in me, but I couldn't stand how they treated me. I wasn't unemployed for that long though, because barely 3 hours later, I got a phone call from my favorite restaurant in the mall. I had applied for a waitressing position just a week beforehand. And so, they offered me the job and I started the very next day!!!!! At the Fu Ji Japanese Steak House. Hah... only the people that truly know me and my Japanese cultural obsession would know how much this job truly means to me then.

To be perfectly honest, it's not the perfect job and I don't do flawless work. I mess up and people sometimes don't like me because I'm a Caucasian working at a Japanese restaurant. But all in all, it's kind of fun. I get to take tips home at the end of the day and it's nice knowing I have money in my pocket. I've finally been able to replace my missing 5th volume of Fruits Basket, and also add the 23rd (and final) volume to my collection as well. -spins in circles childishly-

I'm actually not the only non-Japanese person working there... there's this Spanish busboy... who I only found out that he was Spanish since my joining their crew. It made me feel kind of stupid actually, because the manager is all pointing over at him (whatever his name is... it's so complicated) saying that it's the only Spanish worker in the restaurant and I couldn't tell him apart from the rest.

Anyway... um.... the true IMPORTANT part of this journal starts now. I don't care if no one reads it, but it's significant to me and I'd rather it's recorded somewhere other than in my mind. It's probably been a while since I've mentioned my oldest brother, Matthew. If you all remember, he's the one that molested me when I was a child. He's gotten out of jail. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't even in for a year. He got out due to "good behavior." (But of course he would be good after finally being found out after 9 years of felony. He's not stupid to try and do something so quickly afterward.) I can't say I'm not upset that he wasn't in for longer. He was of course the one that left scars in my memory that I won't be able to forget for the rest of my life.

However... I've finally come to a realization. When I was working for that company for selling knives... I was working in the very same building that my brother was working in. Most of my family told me not to take the job because of it and I'll admit that I was a little scared at the time because of their reactions alone. But... I wanted... to try, just once... to do something people didn't think I'd be able to do. I was sick of fearing my brother just because I might see his face or that I might run into him at Wal-mart. Losing a job over something as trivial as that seemed meaningless to me suddenly. And as the days progressed in my short training period at that building, I began to see my true self kind of come out. Instead of all my family members' murmurs of fear, I felt my courage again. I had a job. A real job! And immediately the job was so much more important than that scum of earth brother of mine. How could I ever have let that lowly filth become more important to my decision making than anything else? When had that happened?

It wasn't him that made me quit. In fact, by that point, I had made a little revolution to myself. He really isn't important anymore. And I'm glad.

Love,
Naomi

ps: If you've made it this far, even if you don't feel like talking to me about my journal. Post a reply that says "Hi." Or whatever. I'd love to see that you've read it all.