From Blank to Blank--/A Threadless Way

So apparently a friend of mine got married and never bothered to tell me. I don't think I have to point out how much this hurt, so this entry is mostly a petty bit of revenge and spite on the off-chance that a mutual friend, he, or even his wife, will read this and know who I'm talking about.
So, to the new bride of my friend:
Did you know his ex believes he raped her? Did you know another ex changed her cell number, her email address, and moved 2 hours away to get away from him? Did you know that he desperately wanted to get married to justify his desire to have sex? Did you know he tried to kill his sister?

Sure, he's got his good features. Obviously, he's not a total cretin, or else I wouldn't be friends with him. Actually, considering my track record with cretins, it's entirely possible that I would be friends with him if he was nothing but a cretin. But he isn't. He has his moments.

Like I said, I'm bitter and hurt and upset that apparently a 9-year friendship meant too little to deserve notice, let alone an invite. So in my hurt and anger, I hope she finds out what you're really like.


try as they might/to avoid his gaze

My brother (the younger of the two) and I had a bit of a row today. His dog bit the family dog as it was walking past, and got his head in her jaws and was shaking it (her head) back and forth--with the other dog's head still stuck in her maw. I got mad, as did everyone but my brother, and yelled at Muffin--his dog. He snapped at me, saying she didn't do anything wrong (sure), and put her outside.
After dinner, she started yowling and wouldn't stop. I told her to shut up, and brother once again snapped at me, saying that a) I yell too much, and b) I should just suck it up. Suck what up? I asked. My depression, he said.
Which was the last straw. I'm never in a good mood while on my period, and it's precisely that sort of idiot comment that is best guaranteed to arouse my ire. And it was aroused. I told him, first, that if I could suck it up, as he put it, I would never have come back here, since my intention was to never, ever return to this place (it's my own personal hell), though I planned to call on Christmas and Mother's Day. I then told him that my plans changed, however, because if I hadn't made it down here, I most likely would have died.. This upset him a bit, so he continued to yell at me, repeating his previous comment that I yelled too much. I actually haven't yelled since the second week I've been here, which (for me, at least) is pretty darn impressive. I didn't say this, since I wasn't exactly in the mood for technicalities, so I just told him that he cried too much. Upon which he burst into tears and said that he couldn't help being sensitive. At that point, I wanted to tell him to suck it up, but I didn't. Hooray for improved self-control. He ran off to his room and slammed the door, but not before my mom saw him in tears.
Here's where things REALLY start to make me...irritated. She automatically assumed that I had done something horrific, like told him to hang himself, and came after me in righteous anger. I told her exactly what had happened, and walked away. It's precisely this sort of thing that makes me hate coming 'home.' It's not the only reason, but it's one of them--if someone is upset, it's deemed my fault. I'm not altogether sure why, though I wouldn't be surprised if being the unsatisfactory child has something to do with it. I wanted (and still want) to point this out, along with a million other things, but I managed to keep my mouth shut, which in retrospect is a really good thing. Because even if I had kept my tone and my words benign and non-confrontational, things would only get worse. Because that's what always happens. I tried talking to my dad once, about why I never want to talk to him. I used terms like "I realise you don't intend it to seem this way, but I feel that..." and I got yelled at for being wrong. So now I just don't bother, though it's starting to all bottle up inside of me, and I'm not looking forward to the day when I can't keep quiet any longer and just blow up. Hopefully it won't happen--or at least, happen in a counseling session or something similar. But knowing my luck, I doubt it.

I don't know if I mentioned this before, because it's been so effing long, but since I've been back I've been accused of bulimia, which offended me a LOT, especially since it came from someone I liked and respected and who I thought at least saw me in a fashion on the positive side of indifference. She also thinks I'm a liar and a whore. I wanted to call her a fat cow--because she is, but that's beside the point--but my mom was there, and the woman in question is good friends with my mom, and it would have been all sorts of bad. But if it happens again, I don't care if the woman in question never speaks to any of us again--I'm going to speak my mind. It'll be a release, too, after having to bite my tongue day after day around my family. I'm going more and more insane, staying with them. I'm realising more just how little I have in common with, and how little I like, these people. As soon as possible I'm leaving and not looking back, though I'm tempted to stick it out since they have great insurance and as long as I'm a dependent, I get full coverage.

On a completely different note, I finally got hold of enough cream cheese to try my hand at making cheesecake, which I've heard is a bitch to make, is time-consuming, etc, etc, forever and ever amen. It was surprisingly easy, though, and it turned out wonderfully. I think I was expecting a challenge, though, and so it was a bit disappointing. Maybe I'll try souffle next time, I'm pretty sure there's a souffle dish around here somewhere...


From the molten-golden notes/And all in tune

Today my best friend from high school got married. I wanted to go to the wedding like nothing else, but life conspired against me. But Steve, since you told me you read this thing (much to my surprise, to be honest), I wish you the very best happiness. Send me pictures!

Instead of going to the wedding, I got to baby sit. Kind of. It's convoluted. A friend of my mother's has a daughter who's approximately my age who just had a child. Apparently the father's an absolute cretin and disappeared during the pregnancy, but he's wandering 'round now, hoping to get money. (Like I said, cretin.) But her mother doesn't want her to be alone at any point, so my mom volunteered to spend the day with her. This is where things get a bit sticky.
First, while I'm not a fan of cretins, she chose to sleep with him, and therefore (in my opinion) should have to deal with the outcome, all of it. But apparently my opinion is by far the least popular, for all and sundry have rallied round to support her in the ousting of the jackass.
What, you may ask, has any of this to do with me? Plenty, I would reply, because the night before the day in question, my mom fell ill and announced to me as I was about to retire that I would be going in her stead, and that I was not permitted to argue.
Needless to say, I was not pleased, especially since I was expected to be there by 8 am? Which meant rising by 7:15? I am not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination.

I'm not a baby person either. As in, I can't stand them.

So there I was at 8 am, in a nearly-empty house, expected to be caretaker of a new mother and her small child. Fortunately, I didn't have to. She kept to one part of the house, I kept to another, and all was mostly well.
I had planned on a nap, because 5 hours of sleep isn't enough. But the child in question screamed for all but maybe 45 minutes of my time there. And as anyone who has heard a screaming newborn knows, it's damn near impossible to sleep.
So I read. The house was full of good books (Mrs. Pollifax and Lord of the Flies), so I settled down to some reading. Or I tried to, because a cat decided to walk up and claw at me.
I don't mind cats, as long as they leave me alone. This one, sadly, didn't. I thought seriously about kicking it, but decided against it--after all, I was barefoot and didn't want my foot mangled. So I poured water on it instead. It ran off yowling, and left me alone.
For the most part, anyway. I'm rather allergic to kitty litter (it makes my eyes swell shut), and even if the litter is kept far away, it does get tracked around by cat feet. This was several days ago, and my eyes are still burning.

But it wasn't all bad. Again, I got lots of reading done. Oh! I got a nifty hat in World of Warcraft, that makes me look like I'm surrounded by shadowy clouds that occasionally shoot forks of lightning, which is really cool.

Speaking of WoW, one last anecdote to close out the post. Awhile ago I ran an instance with a group of people I didn't know terribly well, and some people I didn't know at all. Normally that doesn't cause any problems, but...
A 17-year-old dropout decided that I was his "type." He told me all about his hobbies (smoking pot and huffing paint), and said that we should date. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf, sort of, and be nicer to people, so I couldn't really tell him to sod off. I tried to drop hints, but after a week or so I began to suspect that any hints subtler than a load of bricks would be lost on him.
So Tuesday evening rolled around, and sure enough, his name popped up and he started a conversation. By this point, I just wanted him to GO AWAY. So I thought a moment, and decided on a simple lie that would likely be terribly effective: I told him I had just found out I had herpes.

Go figure, I haven't heard from him since. ^.^