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I need a hug... I chewed off all my fingernails today. I got so pissed off...I hate bitchy entries, but...Well seeing as this IS my diary...It's okay I suppose.. So I get up at 5 this morning, force myself back to sleep, wake up at 6:30, force myself back to sleep again, and wake up at 8:30. I got up, changed, and went outside only to find out the the trellace I was supposed to put together for my mom is harder than shit to figure out. And no, the instructions didn't help. So my mom calls and says that she wanted me to paint it FIRST. Well, why did she tell me to go out one of these days and put the trellace together and then paint it?? So I was like, whatever, I'm not taking it apart. So I start to paint it and my brother comes home on his lunch break (he's working at the high school this week, instead of the other town like normal) and asks me if I'M going to clean the house before my mom gets home from my grammas. Excuse me?? When am I (ME) going to clean OUR house? So I bitched at him for a little bit about how I'm not the one who made a mess, and then he goes, "Fine, I'll go start cleaning on my LUNCH BREAK until I have to go back to WORK!" Okay, first of all, it's not my fault this hole in the fucking wall town has no place a 15 1/2 year old girl could work. I know squat about cars and wouldn't work for that asshole if my life depended on it anyways, I refuse to stock shelves at our wanna-be Sentry, and I can't work at the video store because they have "adult entertainment." So it's not my fault. Besides that, all the older kids have the jobs because people tend to think that the older kids are more responsible. So don't rub anything in my fucking face about a job. So I just gave him the cold shoulder, stopped talking and everything, just stared at the trellace and painted. So he goes inside and an hour later he walks back out and leaves. Now keep in mind that at this point it is about 1 pm and I still have not eaten nor drank anything at all, where as the supposed "hard working teen" (my brother) has. So I continued working, and was fine, finished painting the trellace to find out that he did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING while he was here. I bet he stuffed his face with whatever food he could find and slept and then left. So I was just in one of those "whatever" moods and went back outside after cleaning the brush (although I STILL am full of paint, it's even in my hair, and I have to put a second coat on tomorrow...) and started to clean my truck. He comes home and bitches that "cleaning your truck can wait! Mom's going to be home in like 3 hours!" So I gave him a piece of my mind and cranked the radio, so he left. (Yes, I used the radio in my El Camino. It all works and sounds gorgeous I might add..heh..) So I called my dad and bitched at him, which did no good, so I went inside and my brother came in and started screaming at me so I screamed back at him, and unfortunately I haven't been working on my death metal screams, so I went hoarse (of course). Well he was crabby because I borrowed his boombox and left it out in the garage. Oh yeah, I never asked...Although, he wasn't around to ask, therefore it's implied consent..You know, just like if a child needs first aid and the parents aren't around to give you permission, it's implied consent. So I left the boombox out there because I was pissed at him. So he told me that he'll take my El Camino out without permission. It's pretty bad when I can't trust my own family to respect my vehicle. So I took the spare set of keys I had in the kitchen and hid them in my room. Now by this time I'm just screaming and crying and everything (and I'm not ashamed to admit it) and he just doesn't let up. He starts telling me that I'm such a bitch and yadda yadda, and that I can go to hell and take (get this) my PIECE OF SHIT TRUCK WITH ME! So I told him that his is a piece of shit, and he tells me that he knows. Then I asked why mine is supposedly a piece of shit and he goes, "Look at the bed. And you start it and the piece of shit puffs blue smoke!" I explained that my dad and I haven't had a chance to tune it up yet, and that the bedline isn't a major issue, and it's not my fault, and he goes on to tell me that he knows more about cars than me and that just a tuneup isn't going to stop it from blowing smoke and yadda yadda...(Now you should hear his brakes squeal, feel how "good" (*coughBADcough*) his shocks work, and see the rust holes in his beaut. He shouldn't be talking.) So he rips on the El Camino more, and I left, and he FOLLOWS ME INTO MY ROOM. Seriously, folks, he comes INTO my room. (I have no door, remember that.) I had turned the radio on and cranked it, and he came in bitching about how I should remember that those are his speakers and if I blow them I have to pay for them and blah blah blah, so I took a pair of nail clippers, but the wires I had attatched to it, and gave them back. I put my headphones on with Cradle of Filth, and he started bitching about how I have dishes to do and a floor to vacuum. I told him to fuck off and he goes, "We need to talk about this." I say there's nothing to talk about. "I'm just a normal guy with nothing to lose." Okay, when he goes to quoting movies, I draw the line. I screamed until my voice was even MORE hoarse, and I was of course still bawling my eyes out, and he leaves and says, "Oh, and don't go killing yourself now!" He just sat there for awhile taunting suicide in my face, and once he finally got in his truck and left, I seriously thought about it. I mean, come on. I have all the things I need...Let's see...yup, I have a rifle...Have the ammo too...Sure, it's messy, but the chances of death are better..I have a razor...I have knives...plastic bags...Why the hell not? So I went to my dog. My dog has this way of cheering you up. I sat down and she came up and gave me a "kiss" and cuddled up to me, gave me a couple "hugs" (she puts her head on your shoulder) and then started bouncing around, killed one of her toys (I imagine she pictured my brother for me) and I talked to my dad on the phone again. Still didn't change anything. So I watched a movie with my mom and acted all cheery, and now my contacts are blurry because of how much I cried. That and my throat hurts. So I guess I should go take my contacts out and cry to sleep (again). I still need a hug...(from a human...my doggy loves me;) ) \m/ |