Disclaimer type thingy: This post contains enough bitching and self-pitying fluff to put Kizrin to shame, so if you don't like to read that sort of thing, now would be a good time to close the browser window. None of it is directed at any Attic-goers, and it is not intended to offend anyone (other than the real-life "family" that I'm ranting about), but if it offends you, well, that's your problem, not mine You have been warned.
. In fact, this post serves absolutely NO purpose whatsoever other than for me to vent my frustrations WITHOUT the aid of blunt objects, and I make no pretenses otherwise.
Well, I'm still alive, and, surprisingly, relatively sane (probably the only one in my house enough so to stay out of an institution), in spite of Real Life's best efforts.
Thanksgiving was... oh, how to put it lightly... a disaster. There were no relatives around this time, other than my dad's parents, which was really all we needed.
It started with my dad promising to help my mom with the Thanksgiving dinner preparations, and help deal with my mentally handicapped little sister. After God-knows-how-many years of this kind of bull, one would like to think that the whole family (least of all mom) would know better than to hold him to his word, but, hey, maybe we're just a bunch of incurable optimists. Anyway, a while later, he has the audacity to ask her when dinner's going to be ready (I'm surprised that she didn't just kill him right then and there), and then the two of them get into a really loud argument about this, that, and the other thing (Whenever my parents start fighting, I make it a point to cower in my room until the screaming dies down).
My grandparents, right in the nick of time, chose that particular moment to demand that dad drive them to my uncle's house like they asked (can't say I blame them for wanting to get out). About an hour later, my dad gets home, sans grandparents, and finds out that mom is still... well, royally PO'ed (don't blame her, either).
Long-story-short, my little sister is being an incredible pain in the rear (she always knows just WHEN to try and push us over the brink of insanity, I swear), my older sister (home from military school for Thanksgiving vacation; I can't blame her for wanting to go into the military, it's probably the only way, other than a restraining order, to get the heck AWAY from my dad and his screwed up family) is desperately trying to placate her, I'm trying to help out with the cooking and the table arrangements, not to mention trying to keep my eardrums from exploding... and dad tells mom that he is going to go in his study and work on paperwork, and would she please call him when dinner is ready. Once again, my mother manages to perform an incredible act of self-restraint.
Anyways, about an hour later, dinner is ready, we're all seated at the table... which lasted for about five minutes before mom and dad start fighting again. I, not feeling very favorably inclined toward dad myself by then, start dragging some of my various grievances against him to the table as well, and earn a couple slaps for having the audacity to express opinions that run contrary to his (which, in his view, constitutes disrespect *snorts derisively* ). We all storm away from the table and go off in our separate directions, all of us really angry at one another. Whatever confidence I might have had in my family is once again shattered, and for the first time in five years or so (please don't ask), I seriously contemplate suicide. My older sister managed to talk me out of it (obviously, if she didn't, I wouldn't be posting here)
The next day, Black Friday, dad dumps both of us (my sister and I) at the mall to do some Christmas shopping (given that it was one of the few occasions that my dad let me out of this madhouse, I couldn't exactly refuse). I get my hands on the latest Dave Matthews Band CD and a copy of Civ3 for myself, and both of us got a few gift ideas for each other. When dad picks us up a few hours later, he characteristically interrogates both of us on what we did the whole time at the mall (like he honestly expected us to have both been doing drugs or something like that) while he's driving us home, and, once we got home, he went through all the stuff we bought, compared it with the receipts to make sure that we didn't steal anything (hey, what can I say, he's pretty much paranoid... of course, given the way his father is, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised)... I once again protest his treating me like a juvenile delinquet (it's not exactly like I get much room to do anything illegal anyways), and earn another slap for presuming to question der Fuhrer (I'm almost positive that I butchered it).
And, just this past Sunday, my grandparents bought some DVD collection of Indian movies, and now they've taken over the Rec Room (which, more often than not, simply serves as my computer room), playing those brain-wrenching movies at about 100dB. I'm seriously considering blasting my collection of MB20, DMB, and assorted MP3's even louder, just for spite. Anyways, given the situation, I'm rather effectively cut off from any sort of computer related activity other than browsing the web (and I'm really angry about it).
In much more positive news, I finally got my driver's license yesterday (WOOHOO!!!), which means I can also start looking at buying a car! Granted, it's going to be a fairly old one, at least until my parents are satisfied that I'm not going to wreck my wheels by making some new-driver mistake, but heck... one step closer to FREEDOM!!!
Anyways, on a slightly darker note, I'd like to say what I'm thankful for: The fact that it could, in fact, be a LOT worse, and the fact that it isn't.
And if you've actually read this post... well, you're really patient. That's all I can say. Like I said, I just really needed to vent. Hopefully, my reading and posting on the Attic will be much, MUCH more regular now, but I'm not exactly holding my breath.
- Doromond
*goes off to take some Valium*
