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Starving In The Belly Of A Whale
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| Sweet 16 |
[28 Aug 2009|06:45pm] |
I just read a post from one of my friends who was wishing his daughter a happy sweet sixteen. And mentioned to congratulate her on passing her driving-permit test as well.
And then I thought of how my "sweet" sixteen went...
I got my training permit on my 16th birthday, too. But you know what they don't teach you? How to drive. They just teach you what to do when you're driving so you don't kill anybody. But the mechanics are not part of the lesson.
So Mother and my aunt picked me up from my test, and my aunt said, Oh Let Her Drive Home.
Okay.
So I nervously got into the driver's side and put my seat belt on.
"What do I do?"
Start The Car, And Put It In Gear!
I did. And everyone screamed, including me, because I was going backwards (we had to back out, so I put it in reverse, naturally) into traffic! Mother's foot reached over to my side to slam the break. Everyone called me stupid for not having my foot on the break before I shifted gears, and I was forever barred from learning how to drive with her car. And of course, they both blabbed the story to everyone, so nobody would dare teach me how to drive.
Even years later, when she promised to take me out to learn how to drive, she never EVER let me drive her car, and eventually paid someone else to teach me how to drive.
I won't even go into the asshole-ish nature of my "sweet" sixteen party, where she threw me a set of car keys to a non-existent car, just so she could look cool to all my friends.
It's no wonder why I ran away from home the next year.
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| Drug Addict Family |
[16 Jun 2009|02:34am] |
I used to read these stories all the time when I was younger, about a girl whose family were all delinquents in some addictive fashion. A boozer mom, a crack-addict dad, a pot-smoking brother, and a pill-popping sister... that sort of thing.
And the main character never did any of that. Never touched drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, nothing. Never even wanted to.
She stayed quiet, she pandered to their every whim, made sure things didn't turn TOO ugly... and she worked really hard to prove herself by getting bang-on grades in school, despite her situation at home. Her family may yell at her, hit her, cry all the time, but they always set aside a rare, sober moment to let her know that they care about her, even if the reader and the girl barely believe it at the time.
The girl KNOWS she's better than they are! KNOWS she can succeed in the face of adversity... and does.
Maybe she gets a scholarship and goes off to a far and distant college, where her family cannot follow, or maybe the family clean up their act by the end of the book, but that main character always succeeds.
Always.
Well, I had the same family. But they were never blitzed during normal waking hours... only when nobody was looking. Why didn't they set aside a rare moment to tell ME they cared? Why didn't anyone ever let me know that I could be somebody? That I could succeed? Why did they have to keep convincing me that I'd never be anything? Why couldn't they love me? Couldn't they split their love between me and my little sister? Why did she get it all? The looks, the luck, the love... when I would have done anything for a little parental bonding?
I guess that's why they sell those books in the fiction section, with all the other fairy tales.
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| Homeless Part 1: What It Was Like At Home And Why I Left |
[11 May 2009|04:09pm] |
My friend asked me to tell him about being homeless. He says he wants to put it in a comic. I have been trying to write up a life's story for a long time, not really knowing where to start, and what details to add/subtract/change. I think this question is a good inspiration, so I'm going to write about my homelessness.
Part 1: Why I Ran Away From Home (10 years ago)
It was the day I finished High School. The only person I saw that afternoon was May, my little sister's best friend, who was my best friend's little sister. Josh had graduated last year. We expressed our happiness that it was finally over, bumped fists, and said goodbye, hoping to get together over the summer.
We did get together that summer. Once. For the funeral.
Later that night, I heard my sister and mother talking about the news report. A kid from town had thrown himself in front of a train. Even later, the name of the kid was released. It was Josh.
Immediately, I phoned my friend Niki, begging that she get me out of there. I packed a bag and left crying. I didn't go back for weeks. Do you know how when you're at a party, and you go outside for a breath of fresh air, and realize you don't want to be there, and you that you don't have to go back in? That's what it was like when I left that house. Of course, I didn't officially stay gone until November, but I'd say I spent a grand total of one or two more weeks there, all together since that night until my boss gave me a spot on her couch to crash (until her lease went up and we were able to get a bigger place together).
Why couldn't I stand it there? It was a wreck. I couldn't deal with it anymore. Not after Josh's death. Not anymore. Not ever again. I was tired of being the First Pancake. The one you fuck up and just throw away. My sister Paulette was the Golden Child, and she was all my mother wanted.
It was always a contest with my mother. I could never be better than The Golden Child (known hereafter as GC). And my problems could never be more devastating than hers. I was always in last place to them. All her attention went to GC, until it was time to blame someone. All her support went to GC. All her discouragement went to me.
No, that's not exactly true. Mom did encourage me from time to time about my artwork. Like when someone else noticed that I was drawing something, they'd remark how nice it was, and mom would say she always tells me I should do more with my artwork. And she seems so proud of me. But as soon as said random person leaves, she goes back to ignoring me. If visiting people (friends or relatives) didn't notice my drawings, however, she acknowledged my presence by trying to embarrass me.
If she'd been this way to me without a Golden Child, I would have been too naive to know anything else. But as I could see how well GC was treated, I knew exactly what I was missing. And it killed me every single day of my life, like little punches right in my chest. Like I was being mentally beaten every day.
Let's recount a few (a small few) key examples where I get burned on the back-burner.
One day (middle school era), I came home from a good day at school and wanted to share it with mom (seeing how much she enjoys hearing Paulette's daily recaps) because I finally had something cool I could talk about. She barely paid attention, and when I called her on it, she yelled at me, saying she was too tired to pay attention to me and to just go to my room. A few moments later, my sister came home to tell mom about her day as usual, and I leaned up against the door to hear them laughing with delight and I felt my heart getting holes punched in it.
One day (high school era), mom asked GC if she wanted to go to the museum with her. I asked if I could go too, and to my surprise, she let me. The day was filled with "ooh" and "aah" and GC pointed at dull paintings that were almost exactly the same as the next, and mom pandered to her interest, and each new painting she saw drowned out my own points at the little things I thought were interesting, but I kept trying to get mom's attention like an idiot who doesn't learn, until she yelled at me, "What the hell do you want me to say? God, I'm dying for a cigarette." And then she continued to "ooh" and "aah" at everything GC pointed at.
How about something a little more painful...
One day (early high school era), GC went on a date with a douchebag. I knew he was a douchebag, but he was popular and handsome, so why would anyone listen to me? Well, a week later, he spread a rumor that they had slept together. GC was devastated and mom came to the rescue. She comforted her, hunted down the dirtbag and his parents, and raised hell, not forgetting to blame me for the rumor spreading, because I'm the big sister who should have stopped it. Her reputation wasn't very damaged and was quickly healed. Later, mom told me I was lucky that I wouldn't have to deal with situations like that because no boys would ever want to date me.
One day, mom made me go to a new doctor. He made mom leave the room for my checkup, and reported to her later that I was very fidgety. He didn't tell her I was just trying to keep my little legs out of his crotch, his hands off my thighs, and his fingers from exploring where my thighs touched. Mom yelled at me for embarrassing her and I never told her how my checkup really went. However, she found out later, when I told someone I thought I could trust (this was so many years later, it didn't even really matter much anymore), and she told someone else, and it eventually got back to mom who yelled at me again, saying it didn't happen, and how dare I sully the good doctor's name, and I don't know what real molestation is, and it's not like I was raped.
See? It's always a contest with her.
She went through all the trouble of getting triple the regular dose of painkillers to dope her up in the stirrups (because she'd done so many drugs before) so the doctors could slice me out of her. She troubled herself with feeding me, housing me, and clothing me and all. She raised me for a little while, until she had another kid. Then it was no hugs, no bedtime stories, only a small helping of cold, lifeless toys who couldn't kiss me goodnight, couldn't hug me back, or admire my good grades, or laugh at my stories, or tell me that the monsters in my closet weren't real.
She spent my whole life beating me down, making sure I never felt like I could do anything with my life. Making sure I would never be able to believe in myself, no matter what.
I left home because I was exhausted and heartbroken. Not just for Josh, but for every single night, looking up at the cold stars above me, making a wish that would never come true, and crying myself to sleep. Every. Single. Night.
I heard once that if you can't see the path you're meant to take, then you should just make your own path. I just wish I had a weed whacker to help me out a little.
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| My Family Tree (or: Why I Hate Them All) |
[05 May 2009|09:25pm] |
"You went to all the trouble of conceiving me, and giving birth to me, and raising me and feeding me and clothing me and all. And yeah, whipping me from time to time, and making me live in a house that's freezing fucking cold all the goddamn time. And you make me cry and things hurt so much and disappointments crush my heart every day and I can't do half the things I want to do and sometimes I just want to scream."
~Spider Jerusalem
Where do we start? I've already said so much about my mother and sister. Why not start there? I'll skip a few things I've already mentioned.
She went through all the trouble of drunkenly conceiving me, and getting triple the regular dose of painkillers to dope her up in the stirrups because she'd done so many drugs in the past so the doctors could slice me out of her. She troubled herself with feeding me, housing me, and clothing me and all. She raised me for a little while. Until she had another kid.
The Golden Child. As the First Pancake, she made a couple of big mistakes on me, threw me away, and worked on her new and improved kid.
If she'd done this without a Golden Child, I would have been too young to know anything else. But as I could see how well GC was treated, I knew exactly what I was missing. And it killed me every single day of my life, like little punches right in my chest. Like I was being mentally bullied every day, it hurt.
GC was always treated with so much love and support. Anything she wanted, mother was there for her all the way. And if GC ever got screwed over, mother would be there to help her make it all better. Be there with her. Tell her all about what's happening and why.
Too bad the only person who really screwed me over was HER. How could she be there to fight against herself with me?
I might have been able to break away from this bondage, but without any support, with all that beating, I was never even allowed to truly believe in myself.
Oh don't get me wrong, she always told me I could hit it big with my artwork... when she was in front of people. If she wasn't trying to embarrass me in front of people, she was telling me how great my art was, but alone, she didn't ever tell me I was worth a second glance. She put me down and made me feel worthless. Nobody saw this.
Not even at the airport. When I'd taken time out of my plans, when her ride bailed on her, to go pick her and GC up from their trip to London (where they'd gone off to for a couple weeks without me, after making sure I felt bad for not being able to go). Nobody looks at other people at the airport. People are always looking for their loved ones. Heh. The first thing she did when she saw me was hit me and tell me I was ugly. I know I've already mentioned this, but it sticks out in my mind so much stronger than the time she sold my car while I was in Toronto, and then kept the money, leaving me with a piece of shit that I had to throw more than a thousand dollars into before it even threatened to work.
Because I got another car when mother sold mine, GC thought I got everything handed to me. But the truth is, I had everything taken away. For every inch forward, I had to take two inches back to fix things that mother sabotaged. She took my car, my money, my future... she forced me into my whole life, and made me believe I didn't deserve, or could never achieve anything better. GC thinks I had it easy? And the things mother did "for" me? They were just to get me out of her hair. I mean, she freaking paid for my driving lessons, because she didn't want to keep her promise of teaching me herself, no matter how much I begged. I begged for her to teach me lots of things, and so much. I thought that's what mothers and daughters were supposed to be like. Mom teaching her girl how to cook, to drive, to garden, to do her own taxes, to apply herself to things and places... That was my American Dream.
Let's switch the story to my sisters.
My little sister, the Golden Child, she was hell to live with, but she's evened out over the years since I got out of there. I'm still maddeningly jealous of her, and angry that she thinks I get whatever I want, when it's really HER that gets anything, plus a drug addiction. Yeah, she sold some of MY stuff to pay for her drug addiction, too. And mom was there for her. I never went through anything THAT important (say when my best friend died) until I was 17. But I had run away from home by then and didn't want mother 'there for me' even if I wanted her there anymore.
My oldest sister I never looked up to, ever. She was a druggie since I first really looked at her. 4 kids, 3 dads between 'em. Filthy living. I was never sad to never see her. And I always felt uncomfortable when I did see her. Really, the same story when I hang out with any of them. I guess if you don't ever get involved in drugs, you can't really connect with a druggie family.
I thought I could always look up to my older sister, Brooke. She was so beautiful, and smart, and fun, and she always made you feel good, no matter who you were... even if she said bad things about you behind your back. She was always nice to your face.
Always.
:(
She just got married last October. A few days before my birthday (so my birthday was wiped clean off the calendar). And she invited her sisters to be bridesmaids. She had the most beautiful dresses picked out for us. I was going to really make an effort to lose weight and beautify myself for this dress, for this big day. I've never been a bridesmaid before!
My missing front tooth was of course on my mind, and I wanted to get a job to try to fix it, but I was having no luck, no help, and no support from anywhere, not even from my boyfriend. And I was getting more and more disappointed calls from Brooke. Until the last one, when she said she didn't want me in her wedding anymore, because I couldn't get my tooth fixed in time, and I would ruin all her $3000 professional photos.
She kicked me out of her wedding because I look too ugly.
I was totally alienated from my grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles when I was a kid. Aunts and uncles and grandparents still alienate and make fun of me, but my cousins have mellowed out toward me lately. They still don't make an active attempt to contact me, none of them, but at least they don't make me feel bad for being "forced" to hang out with them anymore.
Grandparents? Yeah, even them. Grandpa was always great to me, but he's gone now. And mother never liked it when I wanted to stay with him for longer than an afternoon, because he and Grandma A. were total boozers. Isn't that great? Mother didn't trust me enough to stay clean. And so I never got enough grandpa in my life. Now it's too late, but at least I was the last person out of them to see him alive! And there's photographic evidence of me being sober, and him being happy with me there!
Grandma, I always liked, but she annoys me with trying to feed me all the time. I mean ALL THE TIME. But she isn't too bad otherwise. However, when I try to bond with her, she seems disinterested.
My Poppa has always been too distant to really be here nor there for me. I don't know how he feels about me, nor I of him.
My Mémère doesn't know how to think of me, either. She just shrugs me off like a pet. She asks me how I'm doing, and by the time I answer, she's already talking to someone else. She asks "so when are you getting married..." and when I blush, consider my answer, and try to speak, she turns her answer to "...Golden Child?" and I sink into my seat and try to disappear. She tells me I look scary and scared in the photos of me on the wall. The scary picture of me was the only known one where all four sisters are together. I was doing a medical experiment at the time (another thing which nobody approves of), and I had wires hanging all over me. I couldn't wear anything I would normally wear. So I thought I'd be artistic. I dressed very, very modestly, and tried to produce my individuality on my face, by wearing dark makeup. How stupid was that?? So I look scary, because I had no tan and dark makeup on. Nobody looked at my modest little outfit, which I thought the family would be proud of, because they'd always had a beef against my attire. And then the one photo I took myself which I was particularly proud of, because I fashioned my pose after my favourite actress, who is so beautiful, and I thought I looked at my most beautiful, and mother let me put it up in my frame on the wall. And Mémère said I looked scared. Not pretty, not lovely, not beautiful, heavens, never beautiful.
I cringe every time I go to mother's house and see those pictures. Then again, I cringe every time I go to mother's house and see all the gifts I give her for holidays, unopened and collecting dust. Then again, I cringe every time I go to mother's house.
Dad, while he lived at home, was a terror. One wrong move, and I'd get it for sure. I barely ever left my bedroom, and snuck around to get food and go to the bathroom, so he wouldn't know I was home. I lived in fear around him. And anger. But when he left, I was the only one in the house who still loved him. And we get along pretty well now, though I barely ever see him at all anymore. And yet, the Golden Child was the one who he bonded with the most (aside from the oldest sister). Like I said, though. If you don't touch drugs, you can't bond with a druggie family.
How did I leave this place in one piece? Well, I guess I didn't. I escape reality by dreaming. I am addicted to sleep. I used to cut myself. I used to be on medication for depression. I used to be in a neglectful relationship. I can't make something of myself because I've lived my whole life being treated like nothing. Believing I am nothing. I guess I can't be in one piece if I am not any piece at all.
I used to have a family of friends, after I ran away from home. But they've all dispersed and gone their own ways, and I am left alone again. I have no family.
I have no family. Of course, how can Nothing have anything at all?
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[29 Jul 2008|06:34pm] |
Kelly has been my best friend since high school, but we're totally opposites. We have different styles, like different music and books, have different senses of humor... and our taste in men is very opposite... until I met Charles -no, another Charles. Not my boyfriend. I met him when we both worked at the mall. We started hanging out between shifts, and I even had a date with him (he took me for a milkshake. How quaint). And then I introduced him to Kelly. I'd told her about him before they'd met. Told her that I liked him. Really liked him. And she said he sounded weird (which, of course, he is). When they met, she immediately didn't like him, but tolerated him for me.
I had never dated someone before, so I was too nervous to ask him on another date, but hinted that I fancied him. Well, I guess I took too long to pluck up the courage to make a move, because the next thing I know, some months later, Kelly had called me to ask me if it was okay if she went after him. Whaat? How and when did she start liking him enough to ask me this? Not wanting to hurt my best friend's feelings, I said, "I guess, but I don't think he likes you that way." I was wrong. She then told me that she already slept with him, but thought she should ask anyway. I was shocked, but nervously laughed my way through the phone call and ended the conversation quickly.
I felt so hurt and betrayed by them both, and since I said it was okay, I had to silently deal with getting used to to them being together. I spent a lot of nights crying alone with no one to tell talk to about this. I couldn't tell either of them how I really felt. Not ever.
Then Charles decided to bring his friend along on our group outings, and pushed us together. This is how I started dating the guy known as Evil Tom, who was the most boring person I've ever met. He only ever wanted to kiss and cuddle with me and said things like "just being with you is enough for me," when I was saying "Fuck that shit. I want to DO something!" He would not want to play billiards, go swimming, or even play videogames! And what ws really annoying was that I couldn't even excuse myself to the toilet without him grabbing my arm and telling me how much he'll miss me. Holy crap! That's what I put up with for the sake of my friends.
A few months later, I moved to Rochester for the first time and made new friends to hang out with and I dumped Tom (as nicely as I could, but he was too dumb to get it, so I had to let him down hard). To follow up on this side story, I started dating a great guy named Zach, to whom I gave my virginity, and when that got back to Tom, he went crazy, saying I have my head in my ass and he was the best thing I ever had and he's so much better than Zach, and his rage made everyone - me, Kelly, and even Charles - back away from him. Once in a while, he finds me, pretends to reconcile, and then goes crazy on me again, and tells me that he performs satanic rituals to tell his lord and buddy Satan to rape me with his barbed-wire cock when I go to Hell. I tell him Satan and I have other plans. He's a total psycho. I've run into some of the girl's he dated after me. They know me by name, and they know how much of a psycho is, and we all laugh.
So, back on topic: Charles and Kelly broke up a few times (but to be clear, they weren't officially together just sleeping together semi-exclusively). Periodically, they get together for a booty-call, and last time, just a couple months ago, they both got very drunk and slept together, and that is how she got pregnant! He asked her to have an abortion, but she is against having one, so, even though she does not even have enough money to take care of herself (she would if she weren't so irresponsible with her money and didn't always skip work), she is keeping it. I feel bad for it already.
Kelly says it's all his fault because she told him she wasn't on birth control and he didn't wear a condom. But in his defense, what she actually said was "These aren't birth control pills," which she assumed he knew meant she wasn't on birth control pills at all. She was very unclear to him, and he didn't know. But that's still no excuse to not use a condom during drunken sex.
They are no longer speaking, and he has expressed interest in getting a lawyer to make sure he'll have no involvement with the baby. She doesn't want him involved anyway, but now that he has said this, she says she is thinking of being a bitch about the whole thing. There go her fucking crazy head-games, again. It makes me so mad to be around her sometimes.
She is barely speaking to me, now, too. Her hormones are going crazy and she snapped at me because she mis-read something I wrote to her. It's always hard to tell the tone of something said over text, and she thought I was being a mean bitch, when I was really being sarcastic. She said a lot of things that were uncalled for and mean, and I countered all the things she said with reasoning and defense. Apparently, she thought a lot of wrong things about me that she had bottled up til then and I had to list everything and correct her. And she's the kind of girl who hates to be proven wrong and tends to give the silent treatment when that happens. So she's being distant now. We haven't spent time together in weeks, but honestly, I don't mind. Her hormones are making her emotions run totally wild. If I spend time with her, she will find a reason to verbally bitch-slap me again and I cannot handle that kind of mentality.
She has removed me from her top friends on MySpace, and has not only failed to reply to my latest comments, but has also deleted some of them, too. I have a feeling, she's gone for the long run, but knowing her, she'll come back to me. After all, I have been the only person to stick with her through thick and thin. She went through a lot of shit, and did some really stupid things, and even though she hasn't been there for me when I needed someone, I have stuck with her through all of it. What the hell did I do to deserve such a friend?
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[08 May 2008|12:31am] |
My boyfriend has pretty much ignored me since I moved in with him. We live in the same place now, and 5 minutes from school and work. There shouldn't be a problem (let's not dive into my inability to find a decent job in this hell-hole).
It makes me wonder how much of a hassle I was to be with when we both lived 45 minutes away in each direction (45 minutes from school/work, and 45 minutes from each other). He visited me almost every day (I didn't have a car), and he was usually so attentive, always snuggling on me and watching movies with me, and we'd go out to 24-hour diners together... what happened?
Honestly, I'm not asking rhetorically. We sit 15 feet apart every night, all night; he at the dining room table, and me on the lonely couch. He used to love brushing my hair, and I love every pet on the head I can get, even if it was an accidental brush of his sleeve or something. Because now, when we cuddle, it's only on the off-chance we go to bed at the same time, and often ends in him wanting sex and me being too tired to deliver. So I ask him to brush my hair all the time, because it's the most pleasurable non-sexual feeling I can get out of him.
I feel so selfish for thinking all this, but I'm thinking it, and because I feel so selfish, I can't talk to anyone about it. I hate that. But we love each other, so I shouldn't feel like this, right?
He works two jobs, works freelance, has a radio show, and makes music for fun... and he used to do all that while still make time to drive 45 minutes to see me all the time. Now that we've broken the distance barrier, we're further apart than ever before.
And it makes me so sad.
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[24 Dec 2007|12:13am] |
The holidays are so hard. I thought I could handle them better by avoiding the mall (which I succeeded in doing this year), but with everyone else so busy around me, and me without a car or much money, all I can do is lay in bed and wonder how my life would be if I had made other choices. How much better it might have been. All I can do is sit here and think until the day when someone thinks enough of me to come and rescue me. But once the day ends, I'm back in this bed, bored to insomnia and and when insomnia is finally bored of me, I can retreat into dreams, which are taking over more and more hours of each day.
2007 can go fuck itself. It was the worst year in all my life, and I've never wished for a coma so badly, or for so long. Dreams are my only escape lately. Very addicting, and I can't think of asking Santa for anything else. I want a coma for Christmas. Who cares how long it is, just as long as I don't have to be on life support (for I am certain my family would pull the plug).
I just want to be alone with my dreams. My impossible, magical dreams.
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[23 May 2006|10:38pm] |
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mood |
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 pissed off |
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music |
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24 Hour Party People soundtrack |
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At the risk of sounding like a childish teenager...
My mother doesn't understand me. Not because she just doesn't get me, the way a grandmother doesn't get why her grandchild dyes her hair or gets her ears pierced more than once. No.
My mother doesn't understand me because she doesn't listen. She pretends to listen, but we somehow still manage to have the same arguments over and over. She keeps asking the same dumb questions that I have to answer the same way every time.
She continues to adjust her memory in a way that constantly makes her the victim. I don't particularly believe in victims. I'm the 24-year-old teenager trapped by self-limits set by her, the pseudo-new-age mom who can't make up her mind about what she wants for her daughter.
Get a job. No, not that job.
Get your car fixed. Don't go driving around.
Be unique. Why can't you be like your sister?
Think outside the box. No, that's wrong, and no, I don't know why.
Think outside the box. Nobody understands you and I refuse to even try.
I'm older, my memory's better. I had a stroke, you can't expect me to remember everything.
I promise to teach you. I don't want to waste my one day off teaching you.
I love you. I love your sister more.
True story.
Well I may have finally found a job my mother can respect. It's in a city about a half-hour south of here. City #1. I was hoping for the job I applied for in the city west of here, City #2, but even though it pays better, it's at the very bottom of my mother's approval list.
She keeps telling me that Charles and I should get a place in City #1. I really don't like it there, I keep telling her. I might even go as far as saying I hate it, but I don't. There are some cool spots to hang out at over there, but I would rather be in City #2. Tonight makes the third night since last week that she has tried to convince me that #1 is the place to go.
Yeah well, if you really wanted me to live there so badly, you should have moved there instead of to this shithole wasteland of a (ghost)town. Really, I mean, did you even consider where your kids would work someday when you moved us to a place where there aren't any signs of civilization a mile in each direction? I hate the country! I was so happy when I moved into City #2. And every city isn't the same! I don't want to live in THAT city, I want to move back to MY city!
Honestly, you'd think she'd get it by now, but she doesn't, and probably never will. I want to go where I have friends. I want to go where I'll be happy.
She just can't get enough. She likes to throw a million things in my face at once. She signs me up for school behind my back (while I'm living in my car, for christ's sake), and then she tells me I need to get a job with benefits. This isn't even a job, I just have an interview for one. She thinks she needs to hold my hand through everything.
Get your portfolio ready.
Dress professional.
Don't be weird.
Move next door to the building.
Like I'm really going to go in with me, myself, and I, as three people, wearing my underwear on the outside of my torn jeans, and smoking a cigarette. What does she think I'm going to do?
Why does she feel the need to walk me through this when I don't need her help? It's not brain surgery, and if it was, I would be well trained and wouldn't need her to hold my hand through it anyway.
If she really wanted to help, she'd have moved into the suburbs. She'd have taught me how to ride a bike, rollerskate, cook, drive, do my taxes. She'd have taught me some life skills. She could have paid attention to me, rather than spend all her time pampering the little sister. She could have supported me when I wanted to go to school in California. She could have supported me in, fuck, anything I did! She wanted so badly for me to make money, but she was ashamed of every single way I managed to do it. I felt so bad with my huge wads of cash, I don't know why I didn't become an anorexic drug addict stripper. I'd have made a HUGE bundle. I didn't ever do anything shameful or illegal to earn my money, but she really made me feel like a crack-whore or something.
Anyway, if I do get this job, I'm going to treat myself to a long-needed trip to the dentist, and get my car fixed, and get my comics, and have dinner with my boyfriend.
I'm going to live the way I want to live, not the way my mother wants me to live.
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[07 Jan 2005|11:20pm] |
It has been a long time since I found work. Which means I am broke beyond belief. Literally down to pennies, people. I've had to ask mom for nearly a thousand dollars while I hope for jobs to come along, which is quite hard in this area.
And my mother hates me for it. She really does hate me. She makes me feel guilty at all available times and will constantly rub it in my face.
She always tells me that she doesn't support me in anything I want to do. Unless it's something she wants me to do... go to school, sell my art, accept minimum wage...
Today, my sister took me, mom, and my cousin to the museum and mom ignored me. She actually preferred to smoke rather than take a few moments to humor me. I'm your fucking daughter!
Nichole and Jessi were showing her one awesome thing after the next, but the very second I try to show her something I think is neat, she's miles away and completely uninterested.
Nichole: Look at this postcard.
Mom: ooooooh!!!
Me: Look at this awesome stocking made of tree-bark and grass!
Mom: Yup. I'll be outside.
Nichole: Look at this thing with the same picture as the postcard I just showed you.
Mom: wow!!!
Me: Look at this Egyptian hieroglyphics kit, Japanese kimono origami kit and geisha glass keychain!
Mum: What the hell do you want me to say? I've been chewing gum like crazy! I need a fucking cigarette!
And I wasn't exaggerating. She actually said that to me.
How old does your child have to be for you to stop humoring them? I mean, "what do you want me to say?" ????? What did you say to me when I was a little girl asking you to look at this cool thing or that cool thing? What were you saying to Nichole just now? She's only a year younger than me, but you'll still humor her when she's my age.
Spend a day with her and me, and I guarantee you'll be able to see past the facade she fronts in company. You can just tell that she's faking niceness and she may even slip and degrade me in front of you. Honest. And it's not even a recent thing, either... she has ALWAYS wanted to do something else rather than spend any time with me.
Teach me to drive when you promised to? Oh no, you've decided to break your promise so you can plant flowers around a tree. And you told me to stop hitchhiking. Good one.
Well then will you teach me to cook like you said you would? Oh, I see. You're watching that really good re-run on tv.
Can I tell you a story? Oh, you used your energy listening to Nichole? Hey, I don't like trying to reach out to you anyway.
Could you at least humor me on this family outing? NO! YOU'D RATHER SMOKE A FUCKING CIGARETTE! That pissed me off. That really destroyed me.
She actually wonders why I spend more time with my friends than I do with family. And what's worse is that she'll use her stroke to get out of remembering something, but will insist that her memory is better than mine in order to defend herself about these accusations.
This hurts too much to be constructive.
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[26 Sep 2004|08:48pm] |
Rhuss got a girlfriend. That's why he hadn't spoken to me in a long time. I couldn't have been happier for him until I found out she lived in Missouri. Rhuss lives in California. Rhuss didn't want to go out with me because he doesn't like long distance relationships. He wanted me to move out there so we could be in a relationship, but didn't want me to move just for him. So I applied to Brooks College in Long Beach, right near him. He was excited. I was excited. I was going to go for animation. And I'd always wanted to live in Cali anyway. Well... instead of waiting for me, he went off and met an internet girlfriend and is now actually in love with her. After only a couple months. That hurt. He said he wanted me to get out of NY. I was going to get out. He wanted me to do something with my life. I was going to go to college for something I wanted to do! I asked him the real reason why he didn't wait or choose me, and he said he couldn't deal with me being 'so free' with my guy friends. He meant Brian. The one guy friend I'm REALLY close to, but would never go out with or do anything with. But it's not like I would have brought him to Cali with me! I only have 2 guy friends in Cali and the rest are female. And the 2 guys I know have women.
But on the other hand, I suppose I could never be with a guy who didn't believe in me. Who didn't trust me. Who couldn't handle me having guy friends I can be myself around...
Another kick in the balls was that my mother didn't believe in me either. College-wise. She didn't want me to even try.
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[12 Jun 2004|01:27pm] |
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music |
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Aphex Twin- Outside <3 |
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The adventure began 1 June.
Rhuss arrived around 10.30p and we stopped off at my house to drop off his things. He was staying with me, but Kelly had plans to fuck him. Wait. Let me start from the beginning.
Rhuss and I have known each other for 6 years. Kelly's known him for about 3 or 4 months. I introduced them via AIM so they could get to know each other before meeting in person. Well, they certainly hit it off, and since I had a boyfriend at the time (albeit a boyfriend who didn't love me and broke up with me not too long ago), I didn't let it bother me.
This all started off by Rhuss and I being excited about seeing the third Harry Potter movie. I said, "you should fly out here so we can see it together." And his response after moments of silence? "I just bought my plane ticket." I wasn't going to see it without Kelly of course... it's tradition. So I gave him her AIM screen name. Anyway...
So they meet up in person at the airport. I sat in the back and they seemed to be getting along just fine until we hit the grocery store after going to my house. There, he and I were playing around in the aisles while she just walked around, not really being interested in playing. She's like that. She's too adult. The two of us always wondered why she wanted to be friends with us.
Turned out, they really had nothing to talk about. They had nothing at all in common. On the other hand, Rhuss and I had just about everything in common and even more to talk about. We tried and tried to involve Kelly in the conversation but she was totally uninterested. She wouldn't even start a convo of her own with him. Turns out, all the time they'd spent online and on the phone, she was really just talking about sex or complaining about work or her parents.
So after an outing to Vertex, the local goth club, they'd finally had 'the talk' where they decided that she was better off staying out of the loop for the duration of his trip.
Well, the day before he left, Kelly up and decides to shelve our whole friendship.
So I cried some, but on the whole, if she thinks our 8 years of friendship can be thrown away because of her need to be a victim, then fine. But I'd better fucking get ALL my shit back.
Here's where I complain about Kelly, as a whole...
I think Kelly's mad because
1. She couldn't belittle me in front of Rhuss. Kelly belittled me in front of everyone she could. And when she does that, she turns my friends on me that way, too. So they'd belittle me without thought, too, because I laughed about it, took it as a joke, ya know? But further down, yeah, it hurt.
2. She discovered that being totally anti-social and having a mind that only thinks as far as work and sex, gets you nowhere. Rhuss told me that we were just mutual people she could complain at. All she did was talk about sex and work. And how hard her life is (which it's not, she only makes it hard because she is so irresponsible).
3. I took her 'boyfriend' away. Okay, I know girls have some kind of code regarding this, but she took a boy away from me once. This isn't some revenge or retribution thing, though. She kinda did it again with Rhuss (at the beginning). I was interested in him a long time ago, but he lives in California, you know? And he didn't want any kind of relationship. And it was totally obvious that she did. She used the L word once. She's never even met him!!! She is so desperate! They've only been talking for a few months! Does she even know what love is?
4. She still has to be right. And has to be the victim. I've proven her wrong on many occasions and when I do, she goes silent and is put in a mood. She's silent because she won't admit that she's wrong. She gets her information from rumors and her little imagination. This has always bugged me. She has no facts on anything she insists is true, and she is so often wrong. Stupid little things, but it's still bothersome.
Anyway... Yeah, she took Charles from me a long, long time ago. She slept with him behind my back. Did it upset me? FUCK YES it did, but I'm not about to let her know that, because she was my best friend and I wanted her to be happy. So I said, yeah, it's okay, go ahead, can't stop you now anyway, can I? I forgave her no question asked. I let it slide. That's just the opposite of what she's doing now.
She'll get over it, though. She'll realize she just threw away her only friend. Right now she's making believe that she has this newfound social life. Making up fake people and blogging about them. Sure. Where'd these guys come from, eh? I've known her for a long time. I know how her mind works. She LOVES to play head-games. She played them with several of my friends.
All this makes me wonder why we have been friends for so long in the first place. We are so different, and I do not like her stupid games.
Anyway, this post sure is long. I'll take a breather.
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[01 Jun 2004|07:06pm] |
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mood |
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 pooty |
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the box . orbital |
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It's hard to see bad things that have happened to me happen to my friends. Because I didn't know what to do about it then, and I don't know what to do about it now. And all I can do is listen.
Otherworldly, my best friend is throwing her jealously at me for something she did to herself. Stole two guys from me and she expects me not to still be close to them?
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[18 Apr 2004|06:23pm] |
This is what happened last night at Homer's party.
( repeat offenses and lots of regret )
I really really liked him, and I destroyed that. I should have gone home when Aleigha did. Or maybe I shouldn't have gone at all. I promised this would never happen again and I let it! I feel horribly dirty and ugly and I want to die. And move to Calcutta, because we all know the dead are better fed than the living. That's where I belong :(
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[02 Mar 2004|02:07pm] |
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mood |
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Siouxsie and the Banshees |
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I wanted to dance with Jon just once. One romantic slow dance, because no one has ever romantically slow-danced with me before (except for Josh, who I danced with most of the night because Jon wouldn't). Jon wanted just one more drink and I said 'not until I get a slow dance." So I tried to dance with him and he constantly stumbled around, talking to other people and hanging on me like his buddy. We tried again but we were cut by another couple asking to switch. Last time. The best I could do was have him still hanging onto me, totally wasted with one hand on me and the other holding a glass of water. So I let him have one more drink and just gave up. He had no idea how important it was to me. I wanted to have a romantic dance with my boyfriend, like everyone else was doing with their boyfriends.
You cannot imagine how much it hurt when it came up, more than ever, that we've been dating for over a year, and you still don't love me back. And it came up a lot. Meridith knows. Josh knows. Laura knows. They were all shocked.
"How long have you two been dating now?" A year. After a year, Cindy and PJ were engaged. After a year, Josh and Sarah were engaged. After a year, I'm still wishing Jon would dump me if he didn't plan to ever love me. And what really hurts is that near the beginning, he wanted to fall in love with me someday. He said so. And later, about 8 or 9 months, maybe... he said he didn't want to fall in love too soon.
So now, I know how Rob feels when he wakes up every morning seriously contemplating suicide. And I never wanted to. Honest.
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[21 Jan 2004|05:18pm] |
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mood |
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 crushed |
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music |
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Gravity Kills |
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Here's what bugs me. I've been friends with this guy from California for 6 years without ever having met him in person. Well he's coming to visit me in June.
Here's where it gets tricky.
My best friend (of 7 years) and he have just met online and have been talking and she's developed a crush on him despite how I felt about him. Now she's done this before, only then I was single... she fucked this guy I was after. Not to mention she had the hots for my best guy friend that I kinda had a thing with (don't ask).
Here's why I don't know why I'm bugging out...
1. I have a boyfriend (albeit a boyfriend who sometimes treats me like crap)
2. He'll be going back to California after the trip is done.
This is how it's going to go:
He gets here. They hook up. She'll fall for him. He'll want some time with just me and some time with just her and some both of us time. She'll get all jealous when it's me and him time and monitor us, stalk us, and she'll tell me not to fuck him because she doesn't trust me. Then he'll get all cautious and not act certain natural ways around me for fear of upsetting her. I'll do the same, but with more anger toward the situation. She'll get mad at me. She'll get mad at him. She'll dump him or they'll split up. And nobody talks to anybody forever. I'll be out two amazing friends because she's stubborn and jealous and he'll just stay away from me because of the weirdness factor.
I'm just afraid to lose my friends.
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| Gravity Kills lyrics- Goodbye |
[11 Jan 2004|04:49pm] |
(sometimes I wish I could make this song a motto in my fucked up relationships)
In a mirror of you, reflections of you,
you’re showing what you feel like inside.
Need the power of two, just me and you,
An image that you hold in your mind.
Sometimes you’re wrong and then sometimes you’re right,
you don’t expect me to put up a fight.
I’m sick and tired of all of your lies
I’m sick and tired and I’m saying goodbye.
I don’t need this poison, I don’t need control
I don’t need forgiveness, I don’t need you
You’re a shadow of me, what I used to be,
I’m fading as the light dims outside.
I know what you need, because I can see,
I’m taking over thoughts in your mind.
Sometimes you’re wrong and then sometimes you’re right,
you’re in the dark so I’ll turn on the light.
I’m sick and tired of all your lies.
I’m fucking tired and I’m saying goodbye
I don’t need this poison, I don’t need control
I don’t need forgiveness, I don’t need you--
I don’t need this poison, I don’t need control
I don’t need forgiveness, I don’t need you
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[08 Jan 2004|11:43am] |
As Strong Sad would say, "I wish I could say this is the first time this has happened... today."
I want to use this journal as a secret. Something I can't tell anyone, not even my best friend. I may share it with some people, but don't expect to be one of them.
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