So, first off, Kimmie: Before I say anything else, I’m going to say this. I really don’t give two shits why you’re pissed and who you’re pissed off at. But unless you’re pissed off at me, don’t take your anger out on me. I’m stressed enough by work and school, and I really don’t need anyone bitching at me because they’re pissed at someone else. PS - Dad never “beat you”. He didn’t beat any of us. When we misbehaved, he’d spank us. It’s a form of positive punishment to discipline us to avoid doing bad things. If he really did beat us, we all would have been put in foster care a long time ago, if Mom didn’t divorce him and take us off to live as a true single mom before that.

Now, onto my message. Now, I don’t know if you think you’re not at fault or not, but I’m here to say that it’s your fault just as much as it is Dad’s fault and Derek’s fault. This is my observation, and don’t think like I’m attacking you or trying to hurt you. I’m pointing out something that you might not be aware of, so that in the future, you’ll know better. I noticed that, for all the stuff you say about Ricky and David being horrifically lazy and not pulling their weight around, you seem to be about ten times worse. Mom noticed this, and I do too, but you act like you’re exempt from doing any and all chores. You told me that the house isn’t yours, and you only sleep in your room, but you know, you also USE the bathroom, and you EAT the food and DIRTY the dishes in the kitchen. As a part of the family, and a part of the household, it’s out duty to pitch in and share the work equally. That means doing the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, and helping out with housework without complaint. If you don’t want to have to do any chores, move out of the house.

It’s not enjoyable, I understand; I’ve yet to meet anyone who actually likes cleaning their house, but it’s something that needs to be done. I know for a fact that you think Nat’s bedroom is disgusting. That’s because she doesn’t clean it. And that’s what our house (OUR house, yours too, because we all live in it) would look like if no body cleaned at all. So do your part; I mean, come on, since people have been maintaining it, when your turns comes up, it’ll be like a piece of cake. 15 minutes tops worth of work, if that much at all. It’s not that big of a deal, not to mention it helps you learn how to maintain your OWN household once you move out and go on your own. Hence why my dorm room isn’t a pigsty; I’ve learned how to maintain it by doing chores over the years.

Now, Derek… I’m pretty sure you remembered that huge fight we got into when Mom was in Spain? I’m letting you know, you did pretty much the same thing here. Look, I’ve said this before (though not in such a nice manner as I am now), but you really seriously need to stop butting into things that don’t involve you, and you need to stop acting like a parent. We have two of them already, and if you really want to boss a kid or two around, go get married and have some of your own. Kimmie hurt your feelings tonight because you butted into something that has nothing to do with you. Yes, I know that you had to do something that had to wait until after she did what she needed to do, but that’s not a good enough of a reason to butt in, ESPECIALLY when Dad is RIGHT THERE talking to her about the same thing. Also, when you get into a fight with someone, you have the unfortunate habit of being ridiculously spiteful, just like Dad (I thought I should point that out, you hypocrite). If you’re going to end up being spiteful and horrendously immature to the point where it makes me want to hang myself, you might as well do the mature thing and walk away from it. Better yet, don’t freakin’ say anything at all, unless you’re prepared to get hurt. In all honestly, after I heard what had happened, you deserved it, because you had no place to say anything at all.

Finally, Dad: I don’t know why you haven’t realized it, but when arguing with us kids, reverting yourself to a 10 year old never gets anything done. The big problem with you is that you have next to no patience whatsoever. And you don’t know how to keep your temper in check AT ALL. Especially when dealing with Kimmie. It’s almost like you’re convinced she’s a bad kid, and so you don’t bother having and patience with her. You need to stop letting her set you off, and you need to stop acting like she’s like a delinquent. When I was talking to you on Skype, at times you were doing that “I’m the victim” thing again. That’s something else you really seriously need to take care of as well. And, when you’re planning chores out, don’t keep Kimmie out of it. Just keep going under the assumption that she’ll do her part too. Because if you keep excluding her, then essentially you’re giving her what she wants: exemption from doing something that she should be required to do. Give me time (and Mom too if she’s going to talk to Kimmie). We’re working to help Kimmie with more important things. Don’t forget that she has some very serious issues that she needs to deal with. And it’s those issues that contribute to her being bratty and bitchy. Just keep it in mind.

One more thing; I don’t really know if you’ve figured it out, but did you ever notice that out of everyone in the family, Kimmie only treats Mom and I well? She gets on all the guy’s cases, not just you, but David and Ricky and Derek. Did you ever stop to think about why she seems to be holding a grudge against the males of the family? It’s because you don’t apologize sincerely. Or maybe you think you do, but to everyone else, you really don’t. Remember in my rants against you on here when I said that you never mean it when you’re sorry? That’s how Kimmie feels about your apology for what happened during the Filor-bitch episode. She feels like you didn’t mean it when you said sorry, she feels like you don’t care about her enough to care that what you did really hurt her, and she feels like you don’t care that you hurt her the way you did. If you want her to stop treating you so horribly (because you’re ALWAYS bitching about this to me), besides the fact that you need to STOP SNARLING the second you think someone’s done something wrong, but you have to apologize to her like you MEAN IT. Apologize to her like you’re about to die and that apology is the only thing that matters. And after that, you need to change how you deal with Kimmie. Have you figured out that yelling at her and snapping at her for every little thing accomplishes nothing? Probably not, which is why I’m telling you this. Instead of losing your patience with her every two damn seconds, when you’re confronting her, you need to stop, take a deep breath or five, and then talk to her in a calm and patient manner. You need to be more gentle with her instead of acting like she’s a criminal all the time. And don’t you dare bullshit and say that you do that already, because you sure as hell DON’T do that with anyone, except Mom. Kimmie’s very emotionally delicate, even though she hides it by being bitchy all the time. It doesn’t take much to hurt her (she shows it by being bitchy), especially if you simply do what Filor and everyone, including you, did, which was convince her that she’s a horrible person with no hope of changing. Think about that for a good chunk of time, and let it sink into that half-working brain of yours.

You need to understand this before you can make a sincere apology or help change the way you deal with her. You need to acknowledge that what happened when she was in 3rd grade wasn’t her fault, and the way she behaves now is partially your fault, like it is Mom’s, like it is Derek’s, and like it is the teachers and the teacher’s aides, and particularly Filor-bitch. Mom’s apologized to Kimmie, and she apologized from the bottom of her heart because she realized just how much she had hurt Kimmie. If you want Kimmie to literally stop hating her, you need to do the same thing Mom did. You need to it ten-fold because you were the most harsh on her out of the family. So think about that.

I think the results are pretty good.

I’m not putting up pics until next Friday when I come home. So until you see them, or me, wallow in suspense. You’ll certainly be surprised. It’s a guarantee.

I miss this show.

Enjoy.

I don’t know if anyone could tell, but I was shaking so bad, I thought I was going to collapse to the ground. But I was happy with how I did, besides the lisp that I didn’t know I had (Do I have a lisp? Or does it come and go? Someone please tell me, because that’s something I probably won’t notice even if I try to pay attention to it)... although I had a serious case of cotton mouth… but oh well. The fellow Democrats that showed up liked it. And so I was happy.

Anyway, watch the video. Comment on it if you like, but there’s no need to discuss. We already knew Obama… I mean, President Obama, was going to kick all sorts of ass. GO OBAMA!

I got to put my new credit card to use, going food shopping with Mom. I don’t plan on using it often, by the way. I’m not happy with actually having the thing in the first place, but if I’m going to get student loans, I’m gonna need a good credit score, and in order for me to have that, I’m gonna need a credit card. So, once the foods stuffs gets paid off, I only plan on using it a little here and there, like buying a pair of jeans, or maybe a notebook. Little things that are easy to pay off.

Let’s see, anything else… Trip back was really uneventful and SILENT, except for the music we were playing. It was kind of boring, but I guess when your dad doesn’t really have a life beyond his office, you don’t really have much to talk about.

I get to go home in a couple of weeks to help the DCDC with the Obama rally we’re sponsoring in Delhi… you should TOTALLY GO. And I’ll be kept there for a few extra days, because my mom and I figured it’d be much cheaper to keep me till election day and then drove me back instead of driving me back and then coming to get me two days later.

In other news… I think I did something to my back. It hurts in a specific spot when I extend my lower back, and its tender to touch. I think it’s about time i go see Dr. Bonnie. She’ll probably be able to help. Good thing I’m going back in like, what, two weeks?

It didn’t end up well. I puked three times, and have felt nauseous since.

In actuality, on the rare occasions that I drink, I drink in moderation, meaning I pace myself. I try not to down as many as quickly as I can. It gets ugly real fast that way. I had that happen to me once a couple of years back. I puked on and off for hours and passed out and came back to. I woke up still drunk. It was very miserable, and I promised I’d never do that again.

Yea, so much for that.

Anyway, the group of folks I was hanging out with are self-proclaimed “rugged” folks. Rugged, in their lingo, defines, apparently, being able to down a hell of a lot of alcohol, especially the strong stuff. I’ve known this since I first met them, so maybe for me it would have been better if I had declined the offer to drink with them. Or should have been more stubborn about the way I drink, I don’t know.

As the story goes, I did start out pacing myself, like usual. But everyone kept telling me “oh come on, chug it! be rugged!’ and things of that nature. They didn’t seem to listen to me when I told them, or tried to, that I like to pace myself. See, I don’t drink to get drunk and shitfaced. That’s no fun at all. I like to drink to get just a small buzz. Just enough to be cheerful. Is that a bad thing? In some people’s eyes, I guess so.

After a while of their nagging me, I finally gave it and sped up my intake of alcohol. Eventually, I was to the point where I was half-passed out. And I didn’t black out, luckily, but I can only barely remember what happen. I definitely remember stumbling to the bathroom, twice, to heave up the contents of my stomach, before finally passing out at around 3am, if I recall.

I woke up later this morning, feeing nauseous, and I actually puked again. I was dropped off of my dorm, and I went back to bed, sleeping for the rest of the afternoon. After I woke up this evening, I finally had the courage to try eating (ginger ale and crackers – the ultimate in stomach bugs). I still feel nauseous, actually, but it’s not to the point where I feel like I’m actually gonna puke.

Now, on to the point of my post. Usually, I’m very good at resisting peer pressure to do stupid things. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of not doing so when being stubborn was probably most needed. I think, if I ever decide to party here at Ithaca again, that I’m not gonna listen to people implying that I’m wimpy just because I don’t get myself shitfaced. I think it’d probably be even better if I just saved any kind of drinking for at home, where I can drink at my own pace without have everyone get on my case about it, and where I’m around my family and best friends, whom I trust the most.

In all honesty, I really have yet to see what exactly is so great about drinking till you puke in the toilet (or all over yourself, or all over the floor, etc). I’ve only done it twice, counting this episode in my life, and there wasn’t anything “fun” about leaning on the toilet, puking while half-conscious and unable to actually say a coherent sentence. I actually hate it. So to those of you who actually like to do that kind of thing; you go ahead and keep doing that, but let me stick to my drinking till I’m cheerful policy.

I don’t particularly feel like relaying the whole story right now because it’s late, but I’ll make a new post tomorrow telling you what happened.

Currently, my physical status is Shitty.

God, why am I still awake? That’s a stupid question; I’m listening to music. I should probably go to bed…

Hope no one else is feeling as crappy as I am.

Check out this article before you do anything else. Read it a million times over.

Now, check out this video. Watch it closely, and as many times as needed to get every single flipping detail in:

For clarifying purposes, the defender who hit Cardinals wide receiver Anquan Boldin from behind is Jets safety Kerry Rhodes. The safety who collided head-on into Boldin is Eric Smith.

Now, you tell me. Exactly which safety should be getting fined; Smith, or Rhodes? Comment on this; it’s gonna be a full-blown discussion. This conversation is hopefully gonna last longer than the more intelligent ones I tried to start. Hell, maybe Derek will actually freakin’ comment this time too. It doesn’t take much brain to see who truly is the one who actually deserves the fine.

I don’t know how many of you know I use Twitter, but I do, and on it I said I was having payroll problems. Basically, I haven’t got my paycheck from last Friday, and no one knows where it is. What fun. I went down to the office about half an hour ago, and left them a message, because neither payroll coordinators were there… and I just got a phone call. They’re gonna try to sort this out. I really think any department on campus here involving money is full of retards.

On to the rant, because I need to get it off of my chest.

I think, after years of observation, especially as of late, my dad is all talk and no action. Plus he’s a spiteful jerk, but I’ll get to that later.

“What are you talking about?” you wonder.

Well, it’s kind of simple. He’ll say he really wants to do this, or he’ll promise he won’t do that. And then he’ll either not stay true to his word, or he’ll half ass it and then wonder why nothing’s working.

First example: Waaaaaaaay back, in 1998, when we first moved up here, Dad promised me “When we close on the house, I’ll work on qutting.”

We closed on the house that winter. Can anyone do the numbers and tell me how long that’s been?

For those of you who are retarded and fail at life, the answer is going on ten years. TEN YEARS, and he still chain smokes and buys at least a pack of cigarettes a day. That what, $14, being wasted on lung cancer. And he tells me, over and over and over again, “Oh, I’m working on it. I’ve cut down.” Or, “I’ll do it after this happens.” and he puts it off and he puts it off. What, Dad, do you REALLY want cancer that bad? Or do you really not care about that promise you made me. By all rights, I should go ahead and throw away any pack I see. We made a contract a couple of years ago saying that he’d work on quitting and be done by a certain date (that’s LONG GONE) and if he didn’t, I had the right to intervene and make his life miserable.

Next example: Dad tells me in one of my previous posts that he’s working slowly to fix his depression problem.

Well, that’s obviously bullshit too, because I’ve yet to see ANY changes in what you do. You still live in your office, you still eat like shit, you take horrible care of yourself, and you continue to rot your brain with anime and manga. I can’t even have an intelligent conversation with you. My proof? When we’re talking about knees and kinesiology, YOU talk about aliens. You never talk about anything like politics, or science. The only conversations we EVER get into involve the anime you’ve downloading and like and think I’d like too.

Congratulations. You’ve succeeded in making me lose all faith in you.

That’s not even that half of why I’m mad at him either… so now it’s time for my message to Dad.

Get this through your thick skull; you bitching about every little thing isn’t gonna do shit. Stop acting like everything’s on you, because it ISN’T. The rest of us are trying to take care of this in the ways that we can as well. Oh, and by the way, why do you THINK we’re in the situation we’re currently in.

When you bitch to me about how it’s all on you, it’s always on you, this and that, what am I supposed to do? Tell you it isn’t your fault? That would be a lie, because it IS. Look, I don’t know who told you this, but life isn’t a joyride and a cruise to sit back and relax on. Life’s a BITCH, and that means, instead of bitching about it like a little brat, you’re supposed to SUCK IT UP and deal with it.

Among other things, the one thing that pissed me off was your SPITEFUL UNNECESSARY COMMENT. “Sometimes can you just be a daughter.”

As opposed to what, Dad? I AM being your daughter. Get it through your head; I’M NOT YOUR LITTLE GIRL ANYMORE. I’M 18 YEARS OLD, turning 19 in just a couple of months. I’m a sophomore in college with a career goal that I’m striving for. I’M NOT 5. Of course I’m going to talk to you more like a smart adult, because I’m a SMART ADULT NOW. Mom’s accepted it, so why can’t you?

If you’re gonna bitch at me about things that were your fault, don’t expect my sympathy and an “Oh, it’s okay honey. It’s not your fault, you did nothing wrong.” Expect something similar (but in a much more polite manner) to “I told you a million times, life’s a BITCH. QUIT BITCHING FOR FUCKS SAKE AND PULL YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE DEEP CREVICES OF YOUR ASS.”

But for some reason or another, no matter what we seem to talk about or what I tell you, you won’t listen. That’s another thing that pisses me off; YOU WON’T LISTEN. What do you think I am; a retard? It pisses me off even more when you don’t listen to me WHEN I KNOW MORE ABOUT SOMETHING THAN YOU. I remind you of that health thing. Or did you already forget about it.

You’ll probably apologize, AGAIN. You might already have, though that message didn’t show on Skype. Just a “Just wanted to say that I…” Of course, maybe that wasn’t an apology and you aren’t gonna apologize because I’m in “the wrong” even though all I did was state the facts. Oh, and give logical suggestions to your fucking problems that you bitch about 24/7 instead of doing anything about.

You know, at this point, I really can’t take your apology seriously, because it’s just gonna happen AGAIN. You wanna know what to do to solve everything. How about you start by ACTUALLY WORKING ON YOUR FUCKING DEPRESSION BECAUSE AT THIS POINT, IT’S GETTING IN THE FUCKING WAY OF ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING!

And you can say “Oh yea? Well I’m doing this and I’m doing that!” but it’s BULLSHIT. I’m not gonna believe any of it until you PROVE IT. PROVE ME WRONG FOR ONCE DAD! Prove to me that I should have at least a little faith in you after all.