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azuriteI was so pissed at Mom yesterday. I still am. Less so, since I can't seem to hold anger as much as I used to, but still irked at her. I went to bed pretty early because of my leg --which is busted, as I've been telling everyone all day. The wound on my left knee, especially, was gruesome this morning, but it looked better once I showered and Bactine-d it. I've been using sterile pads as a sort of comfort, but the pain has been getting worse all day.
Maybe I'm being schizoid, but what if I sprained it? It's really hard to walk-- and everyone knows I'm limping. Maybe I should go to the doctor... *doesn't want to pay $15 for a false alarm*
Anyway, so I went to bed early yesterday, and at 9pm (one hour after I got into bed), I hear voices. LOUD ONES. Mom and her friends came over and were chatting and ordering pizza... and Mom, being the DUNCE she is, talking about weed and how they were going to roll a few joints and smoke some. Now, in case you don't know, my mom is a pothead. Not a bad one, but one nonetheless. And I have NO RESPECT for anyone that does drugs. I don't care what it's for, if it's illegal, it's for good reason. Her memory is already bad enough as is, but smoking pot!? And she wonders why I give her 'tude all the time. It's her fault Michelle (my late sister) got so mad at her and RAN away, and I blame it at least partially on my mom's stupidity, dishonesty, and blindness that, if she had STOPPED smoking, TRIED explaining things, then maybe her relationship with Michelle wouldn't have deteriorated so badly, and HELL, maybe she'd still be alive today.
Well, I marched up to her bedroom door and told her to please shut up, I was trying to sleep, SHE KNEW that, and couldn't she go someplace else? She's always telling me to clean the living room, clean the dining room-- I ask her why a few pairs of shoes or a jacket bother her (I leave them on ONE chair in the dining room or hall; it's easier for me when I leave to go out)-- she says "Well, what if I want to invite friends over?" GRRR. She's totally rude to me in front of her friends, and I try to say plainly that if they want to smoke, fine, just don't do it in the sunroom, which is RIGHT NEXT TO MY BEDROOM. She goes back in and whines to her friends, and I can STILL hear them talking about me. They observed how odd it was that it was a Friday night and *I* (the teenager) was in bed early and complaining about noise, while she, the disgusting 50 year old, was chatting it up with her friends and getting stoned.
I couldn't sleep. I had spent SO MUCH F*IN time trying to get comfortable with my bum leg, and she just wouldn't shut up. And there was all this about PIZZA and crap, and she was saying things to her friends about how I was moving (the other day she was getting all teary with me over it; saying we needed to talk and stuff. Bull). Well, I woke up and decided to start tearing all my posters down in the little niche of hallway near my room. She wants me to get ready to move!? FINE. I'll bring a few with me if I can't have new wallpaper; otherwise, just my wallscrolls and YGO calendar.
I shoved my stuffed animals (as many as I could cram) into my toychest; the rest are still in the hammock above my room. And I'll start cleaning up in there soon. Hell, I should get boxes now. She wants to know why I'm leaving? Because of HER! Because of her stupid, intolerable attitude, because she hardly ACTS like a mother, let alone the one I *used* to know, and because I was never afforded any real opportunity in her eyes, just delusions and excuses. I WILL NOT MISS HER. What is there to miss?
On the bright side, I channeled all that anger into FFX-2, and I beat the Gunner's Gauntlet! After many, many tries, but I finally got 523 points and beat Beclem's High Score... and I'm already in Bevelle, hunting after Vegnagun! Whee. And today in box, I talked with video games almost the whole time I was down there with Zhuo. T'was fun. I'm going to play more FFX-2 now since I don't work tomorrow (and to make up for my idiocy at not recording Alias tonight... *whine* Someone tell me what happened!) ... and maybe get some sleep on the couch.
Maybe I'm being schizoid, but what if I sprained it? It's really hard to walk-- and everyone knows I'm limping. Maybe I should go to the doctor... *doesn't want to pay $15 for a false alarm*
Anyway, so I went to bed early yesterday, and at 9pm (one hour after I got into bed), I hear voices. LOUD ONES. Mom and her friends came over and were chatting and ordering pizza... and Mom, being the DUNCE she is, talking about weed and how they were going to roll a few joints and smoke some. Now, in case you don't know, my mom is a pothead. Not a bad one, but one nonetheless. And I have NO RESPECT for anyone that does drugs. I don't care what it's for, if it's illegal, it's for good reason. Her memory is already bad enough as is, but smoking pot!? And she wonders why I give her 'tude all the time. It's her fault Michelle (my late sister) got so mad at her and RAN away, and I blame it at least partially on my mom's stupidity, dishonesty, and blindness that, if she had STOPPED smoking, TRIED explaining things, then maybe her relationship with Michelle wouldn't have deteriorated so badly, and HELL, maybe she'd still be alive today.
Well, I marched up to her bedroom door and told her to please shut up, I was trying to sleep, SHE KNEW that, and couldn't she go someplace else? She's always telling me to clean the living room, clean the dining room-- I ask her why a few pairs of shoes or a jacket bother her (I leave them on ONE chair in the dining room or hall; it's easier for me when I leave to go out)-- she says "Well, what if I want to invite friends over?" GRRR. She's totally rude to me in front of her friends, and I try to say plainly that if they want to smoke, fine, just don't do it in the sunroom, which is RIGHT NEXT TO MY BEDROOM. She goes back in and whines to her friends, and I can STILL hear them talking about me. They observed how odd it was that it was a Friday night and *I* (the teenager) was in bed early and complaining about noise, while she, the disgusting 50 year old, was chatting it up with her friends and getting stoned.
I couldn't sleep. I had spent SO MUCH F*IN time trying to get comfortable with my bum leg, and she just wouldn't shut up. And there was all this about PIZZA and crap, and she was saying things to her friends about how I was moving (the other day she was getting all teary with me over it; saying we needed to talk and stuff. Bull). Well, I woke up and decided to start tearing all my posters down in the little niche of hallway near my room. She wants me to get ready to move!? FINE. I'll bring a few with me if I can't have new wallpaper; otherwise, just my wallscrolls and YGO calendar.
I shoved my stuffed animals (as many as I could cram) into my toychest; the rest are still in the hammock above my room. And I'll start cleaning up in there soon. Hell, I should get boxes now. She wants to know why I'm leaving? Because of HER! Because of her stupid, intolerable attitude, because she hardly ACTS like a mother, let alone the one I *used* to know, and because I was never afforded any real opportunity in her eyes, just delusions and excuses. I WILL NOT MISS HER. What is there to miss?
On the bright side, I channeled all that anger into FFX-2, and I beat the Gunner's Gauntlet! After many, many tries, but I finally got 523 points and beat Beclem's High Score... and I'm already in Bevelle, hunting after Vegnagun! Whee. And today in box, I talked with video games almost the whole time I was down there with Zhuo. T'was fun. I'm going to play more FFX-2 now since I don't work tomorrow (and to make up for my idiocy at not recording Alias tonight... *whine* Someone tell me what happened!) ... and maybe get some sleep on the couch.
