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FUck this shit Will only be including the relevant issues here. So yes, while I had a great time with sis and Dave on Friday night getting lost downtown and finding a place to eat at and yes, while I went to Wonderland yesterday with the same and had a decent time, that's not the point of this so suffice to say that all of that just set me up for a fall. For starters. My mom and sister bought my sister a new bed to go into her room here at home. Nevermind the fact that she already was using an old bed, nevermind the fact that we went through all of the trouble of lugging her old (fairly new) bed back down from London when she moved back, they bought a NEW bed. The way that I see it, she could have used her old bed just fine with the room set up the way that it was. She could have rearranged her room, moving her desk into the niche instead and put the London bed by the window and used it that way but no, she wanted her BED to go into the little niche space next to the door. So let me fill you in on some minor details. The old bed was fairly low to the ground and it couldn't really fit the extra matress that had but she had been using it perfectly okay by layering it with enough blankets and the like to make it soft enough to sleep on. Apparently, this didn't sit too well with my mom so she bought the frame of a new bed for her at a cost of around $50-$70. Nevermind the fact that she's always harping at me to not waste money on needless things, nevermnd the fact that sissy dear had TWO perfectly usable beds here at home, she had to go out and get another one. She's nagged at me so much about spending money needlessly that I've stopped buying games entirely, I don't buy music, movies, any sort of pirateable media. I don't buy clothes cause I've for some reason never really cared too much about it and the ONLY time that I spend any money lately is when I occasionally go out with David and his friends when they go out for dinner or wings or some shit. He constantly offers to pay for me. He's landed a job just a while ago that pays freaking great and he pays my way a lot but now and then, I gotta put up the cash too you know? I'm not a fucking leech and even if I don't have a ready income, I'm not going to keep going out with the guy if he's always the one paying so I do pay for my own shit when we go out a lot. I'd rather stay at home and do nothing then keep going out with him and just sitting back to let him pay my way, it makes me feel like shit so whenever I can, whenever I have ready cash on me, I toss in money for the bill and whatnot. I've digressed...but the point is, she nags at me constantly to not waste money needlessly then turns around and pulls shit like this, but whatever, I've grown accustomed to her hypocritical urges. That's not what bugs me. This new bed that she bought is lower to the ground than sissy's old bed. The frame is apparently too small for a mattress so my mother hit upon the absolutely brilliant idea of buying thin, splintery, almost rotten looking wood and MAKING TWO BOXES to put on the bed and layering over that with blankets and shit to make it soft. So, what the fuck? We're basically making her a WORSE bed than the one she had before for more cost? As for being low to the ground, she's already on the second fucking story of the house so at any given time of night, she's a good 5 meters or so off of the actual ground. Regardless, this was what she wanted done. She was going for an overnight camping trip Saturday/Sunday and told me that she wanted the box made while she was gone. That was fine until the Saturday when I sat down with my sis and tried to figure it out. With the wood that she had bought, with the sizes of the pieces, we could really only make ONE box instead of two. There were some odd pieces that didn't fit into the sketch that she had drawn out for me so we figured that we might as well make just one and ask her what she wanted done with the other wood later. Tools were also a problem that she failed to mention. All of the nails that we had in the house were either too short or too long. The saw had no more blades and the one blade that we managed to find wasn't exactly made for it and had the unnerving tendency to fly OFF THE FUCKING SAW once it encountered a harder bit of wood. Add to the fact that my mom had gotten the measurements wrong and wanted me to cut half an inch off of almost all of the pieces of wood and you've got a GREAT afternoon ahead of you. You try to make do with the tools at hand though. I made all of the cuts, stopping every 30 seconds or so to re-tighten the screws that were SUPPOSED to hold the blade in place if it was the right kind. It flew off in the middle of cutting about 3 times and each time, my heart jumped as I'd imagine what it would be like to go through life missing a finger or a toe but the cuts got made because it was easier to do that then deal with my mom's bitching about an incomplete task if we had waited. It's when we tried to put the fucking thing together that the problems started. We couldn't figure it out. The plan that she had given us didn't really make too much sense at all and me and my sister were lost on what to do. I was all for continuing, following the plan as closely as possible and hoping that it turned out okay in the end but my sister got me to stop, told me that we could just ask my mom when she got home. When I protested, saying that I would be the one getting bitched at, my sis told me that she would tell my mom that she told me to stop because we wasn't sure and I left it at that, cleaned up and left it. That morning though, there was a very loud thumping on the wall of the house. It was around 11AM, I had gotten up earlier and gone back to sleep after some tv. I dont know about you but it I'm woken up by a LOUD thumping noise from a sound sleep, I'm gonna be a bit freaked out. I sneak over to my sister's room and ask her if she knew what it was but she looked just as clueless as I was. I stalked downstairs and looked out the back door to see one of our neighbours fixing this line to dry laundry that got broken during the winter. The thumping came from him driving a nail into the side of the house to keep it balanced so that hopefully, it wouldn't break again. I poked my head out and asked him what he was doing. He explained to me what he was doing and that he was just finished. I laughed and told him that he had scared the crap out of me and my sister as we were sleeping and he expressed his expectation that we were already awake. He was picking up his tools so I thanked him and went back inside where my sister bitched at me, told me that I should ask him if he wanted any help. That didn't make sense to me cause he was already done but I went back downstairs to ask if he needed any help but he had already left. That was the end of that. After the trip to Wonderland last night, we hadn't had anything for dinner. Since my sister was picking up my mom at a korean restaurant, I made the assumption that she would bring dinner home for me and David. Wrong assumption. When they got back in, I asked sis what I should do for dinner. She told me that I should have made rice and stuff and have eaten before. Fine, that one was my bad, I just figured that she would bring food home but I should have known better. And the first words out of my mother's mouth when she walked in the door? She looked at the cut pieces of wood and looks at me, "I was gone for a weekend and you couldn't even finish making ONE box? How old are you? Are you a little kid that has to be told every single thing before you can do it?" I'm sort of in disbelief so I just sorta shrug it off and go upstairs to where my sister had headed. I told her that the first words out of her mouth was about why the box wasn't finished and that fucking retard looks up at me like I'm an idiot, "What? What did you expect her to say? You didn't get it done." HELLO? WHAT THE FUCK. I expected YOU to fucking TALK to her about the fact that the pieces of wood were fucking retarded and that her little design wasn't working. I expected you to tell her about the fact that the nails we had were all the wrong sizes. I expected you to tell her that I would do it once she could look over her flawed plan and give me a better idea of what she wanted. Whatever though, my mom comes upstairs to start bitching at me. She STARTS with that fucking stupid korean respect shit. Basically told me that I was a bad son because I didn't wish her a good journey before she left and when she got home, greeted her as if she had just stepped out to a nearby friend's house instead of a *gasp* overnight trip. Told me that I was being very disrespectful, that next time, she wanted me to wish her a safe trip the night before she left and be attentive to her when she returned, ask if she had a good time, ask what she did and so on and so on and someone fucking kill me now. WOW! AN OVERNIGHT CAMPING TRIP WITH A GROUP OF HIKING PEOPLE THAT YOU'VE BEEN GOING OUT WITH EVERY SATURDAY FOR THE PAST YEAR OR SO!! WHAT AN OCCASION!! True, normally she's back the same day but WOW! AN OVERNIGHT HIKING TRIP? EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO AND MARVEL AT IT! IT'S SO FUCKING SPECIAL, OH THE GRAND THINGS YOU MUST HAVE SEEN! Did her parents give her a fucking medal her first day of school? Did they throw her a party the first time she crossed the street alone? Did they bring her presents the first day she stayed home alone or something? Does ANYONE think that this isn't that big of a deal other than me? So you went out overnight with a group of hikers, whoop-de-fucking do. You want me to act like youv'e gone out of the fucking country for a month's vacation in Europe or something. Then you come home, bitch at me about not making your fucking retarded box first thng then come up and bitch at me for not being completely wowed and amazed that you went out for ONE night on a camping trip. Then she starts in on my disrespect. Told me that my sister had told me about the thing with our neighbour. Told me that I was a horrible person for not offering to help. Help with FUCKING WHAT?! "Oh, you just told me you were done. Would you like me to help? I could help you carry your hammer and box of nails back next door." For chist's sake, it's like you're in your room while your parents make dinner and when they call you down to eat and everything's already on the table, you ask if there's anything you can do to help. It's like going out with a friend who pays your way and AFTER they've paid, asking them if they wanted you to chip in. It's fucking retarded is what it is. I'm not making excuses here. Yes, I SHOULD have helped but I was fucking ASLEEP. I went down as soon as I woke up and the guy was already finishing up, I'm supposed to help him how exactly? She tells me that it's rude to NOT offer help. I've hardly been one to mince words. I'm not going to offer my help if you're already quite obviously finished. It doesn't make sense. she went on then, talked about how they must be talking about me, how they must think I'm a horrible, lazy person for waking up so late and for not offering my help when he was already finished. To that, for starters, I don't know if she's realized by now but I DO NOT FUCKING CARE WHAT PEOPLE THINK OF ME. That's not exactly true...I care a lot for what the people whose opinions I respect think about me which is why a few of you managed to sway me into NOT smoking up that night. But for people who are strangers to me? People I don't care about? Let em think I'm a racist, disrespectful, supporter of Bush and his fucking wars, I DO NOT CARE. Your opinions don't fucking matter to me so why should I give a flying fuck what you think? Want to know why my mom cares? It's because she's selfish that way. To her, my bad behaviour reflects badly upon HER parenting skills and therefore "people will talk" about how she's a bad mother, couldn't raise her son properly. I only care what people think of me if I care about them. Is that so hard a concept to grasp? If there's something inherently or morally wrong about that point of view, I don't apologize for holding it, it's just the way I am. My neighbours now, I don't give a fuck about them. They're nothing to me. They could all drop dead tomorrow and I wouldn't feel a thing, That's why I don't give a fuck about what they may think of me. Does that make me a bad person or something? I thought it was more of a virtue to rise above what people may think or say of you and be true to yourself. I'm not going to ape a liking for them just because my mom and sister do. If I don't like you or don't care about someone, they'll fucking know it. All this time that she's bitching at me about this, I'm biting my tongue. I'm biting my tongue because while I think that didn't really do anything wrong I know that I haven't done anything really right either. I'm biting my tongue while I take all of this fucking bitching without complaint, knowing that if I sTOP biting my tongue, I'll start cussing at her right to her face about how she's an unreasonably demanding bitch. I taste blood. I don't care. As long as it stays inside, as long as I can keep control. As soon as she's done and starts heading down the stairs, I storm outside onto my deck and just punch at the railing almost as hard as I can. I bruise my hand and knuckles, then she fucking storms back upstairs, demands that I get inside. Starts bitching at me MORE. Tells me that she's been trying to be patient and not get angry with my behaviour but the fact that I storm outside after that and punch something is a sign that I see her as a joke and don't respect her. SOMEBODY fucking smack this bitch, PLEASE. Trying hard to keep my anger in check, I tell her that I went out to do that instead of yelling at her to her face because I know that I'm not all in the right and I figured that going outside and venting my anger was a better, wiser choice then yelling at her to her face. "So you're saying that you don't respect me! Is that it?" I swear...I wanted to scream. But I didn't. I shut up, concentrated on a point on the wall to the left of her head and counted in my head while she ranted her fucking RETARDED shit at me. Eventually she finishes, I storm out again (quietly this time) with my discman and blast some hard music into my head until I can't hear my thoughts and a headache starts forming from the loud music. I eventually go inside when it gets too cold and lay in bed listening until I fall asleep. It is now Monday, as always my mother puts on happy mood that's so fake it makes me angry. Acts like she DIDN'T bitch at me for an hour last night, acts like nothing's changed. Sorry to her but I prefer not to hide shit like that. If I don't like you, I'm not going to just act like I do. On another note...it's May 23rd and therefore, Lauren's turned 22. It couldn't have come at a better time huh? I can't be there for you anymore girl... but happy birthday. |