Tamily Fies.

Sometimes I sit and wonder what my life would be like if I didn't have the family I did.

If I was born to two people who valued self esteem, or two people who shared the responsabilty equally. Or if I had a sister instead of a brother. Usually, when I think of these things, I decide that while my current situation isn't ideal in any way, that I do like the parents I have. Sure, and the moment I'd like a paino to fall on my mother, but once I move out I think our relationship will be a lot better. Because if she starts yelling at me over the phone I can just hang up.

And my dad...I love my dad. He's a quiet guy usually and sometimes he acts like my mom, but when he is I usually do excatly as he asks. Why? Because dad never gets disperportinally angry about things. When dad yells or makes a rude comment he is actually and truely upset about something. So I do it. It seems like any occasion is a good occasion for mom to yell, so I rarely take her screaming seriously anymore and therefore, see no reason to do as she asks.

The one person who I truely think I would miss if I had a different family would be my brother. He's 16 which makes him a bit of a shithead, but he's smart about politics and when I come home late and he's the only one up we can talk till two in the morning about his friends, Canada's lack of young politicans, communism and why it could work and all sorts of differnet and varying topics. He's got some sort of learning disability that makes reading and writing a chore for him, but he'd do it if it's something that interested him. I fell like teachers should tailor things more for him, but then I don't know what kind of 'special' treatment my brother gets. I'd rather not know, honestly.

I love my little brother even if I give him a hard time somethines. I guess it's what big sisters do. I've straightened his hair before (It's a curly mess), made him walk up to the corner store to buy me candy and even kicked him in the face once when I was thirteen because he called me stupid. On the other hand, my parents remain unaware of him smoking dope, when I've known for a lonnng time. I've bought him booze with the strict stipulation that he doesn't tell mom and never, ever drives after. I've gotten rid of his annoying friend for him and even told people he was out with mom when he was in the basement playing COD.

And he's a good brother. He told The boyfriend that while he may be eight years his junior he would still kick ass if anything douchey was done. My parents are blissfully unaware that The Boyfriend and I enjoy carnal pleasures, while my brother has known for almost a year. (Poor kid, walking in...*Shudder*). He even covers for us sometimes. He's a good kid.

Maybe me and him could get a mother transplant?

Sometimes, things just don't work out.

I'm not going to school anymore. I don't want to go into details, because it makes me depressed and I feel horrible enough about it as it is, but what are you gonna do, huh?

The Boyfriend and I are still togeather and going strong. Almost two years now, pretty damn exciting. I'm really glad that I have him through all of these hard times I'm going through.

My mother has become particularly unbareable lately. If you're wondering why I've got so many spelling mistakes it's because she took my laptop. She said she would give it back to me once I cleaned my room, so I cleaned it. It's vaccumed and dusted and the laundry is done. But when I asked if I could have it back she said she'd 'think about it'. Which means I'm probably not getting it back until I pay my dad back for it. Really sucks too, because if I'm seen using dad's laptop (As I am at the moment), I'll get yelled at and lectured. No one's home at the moment so I'm safe.

Mom yells at me for no other reason then she can, it seems. For almost two years I've been coming home in between eleven at night and three in the morning from The Boyfriend's house, and no one has said anything about it. Last week my mother stayed up past two so she could 'catch' me. I would've tried harder to evade her had I known there was anthing to 'catch' me at.

Mom: Did you just get in?!
Me: Uh...Yeah?
Mom: Do you know what time it is?!
Me: Like, almost two?
Mom: So what, this is a regular thing for you?!?!
Me: .... Um...
Mom: You better get your act in gear young lady! And I don't want you -EVER- coming home at two in the morning again!!!
Me: ...I've been doing this for awhile...I don't understand why it's suddenly an issue..
Mom: BECAUSE BEFORE I WAS SLEEPING WHEN YOU CAME IN BECAUSE I HAD WORK IN THE MORNING.
Me: ....

I didn't talk to her for awhile and it seemed to die off. Lat night I came home at one and she didn't say anything. In fact, I haven't changed a damn thing but she's either asleep when I get home or she's forgotten about it. I'm guessing she forgot. She does that.

Then I asked to sit down and talk to her. I said I was sorry for the way I talk to her sometimes but that they way she treats me isn't in any way nice. She said she knew. I told her that I'd like it if she talked nicer to me and treated me with some respect. She said nothing. I told her that her usual meathod of yelling at me and insulting me ('Selfish bitch' Has become my new nickname.) rarely makes me want to do things for her, and she told me I was rude and embaressing.

Understand that. I asked her nicely to treat me a bit better, and she said I was rude and insulting. I broke down in tears to tell her that I hated myself enough, it would be nice to not hear every word out of her mouth be some sort of jab at my personal hygine or my lack of friends or whatever, and she said she knew but didn't at any point say she was sorry or promise to try and do better. So I've reverted to my old meathod of dealing with her. I'm going to avoid her as much as possible and hope she dies in some quick but fatal car accident.

I know what you're thinking. 'That's HORRIBLE. She has BREAST CANCER.' But it's true. I've met lots of people who think their parents are the best people ever, and that's fine. I don't. I remember the nice things my mother has done when I'm not around her. When I am around her, I remember the time she stuck a fork in my brother's hand because he tried to take a peice of her cake. He was seven. Or the time she screamed at me for four hours striaght on my sixteenth birthday because I 'lost' a pair of two-hundred dollar gold hoop earrings I had just gotten, when they were on her nightstand the entire time. Or the time she said I was shaped like a barrel. I have a list of things I could rattle off that would make you see my mother they way I do. But I don't see a point. Think of me as the horrible ungreatful daughter if you'd like, but just think of it this way. The positive things I tell The Boyfriend when I'm trying to defend my mother's actions to him have gotten so repetitive that he'll look at me and finish the story. That's how few of them there are.

Sad, isn't it?

I want to write a hiaku about my contempt for John Cena.

I'm not good at poetry, but I still want to.

See, late the other night, when The Boyfriend was fiddeling with something or other and I was flipping through the channels aimlessly, I happened upon the WWE.

I've never watched the WWE before, because I'v always kinda found it stupid. Everyone knows it's fake. It seems very.... Redneck to me. I thought that perhaps that was an unfair view of the WWE, and decided to sit and watch some, to tell myself I wasn't making judgements on people and that perhaps some sort of shining ray of entertainment would fly out of the TV and hit me smack in the face.

After watching an hour of the program, I discovered a few things.

1-John Cena is the God of WWE.
2-Most of the program is taken up by shirtless men in speedos yelling at one another and being booed by the audiance.
3-John Cena is a bit of a douchebag.
4-Some of the shirtless men get togeather in groups of four or five and yell at each other. Then they get booed louder. Because while I didn't think it was, that is possible.
5-Seriously, fuck John Cena.

I'm not kidding about that last one.



That's his finishing move.

Now I gotta say. WWE has some characters. Badly acted and horribly sterotyped characters, but characters none the less. But how did this dude become God of WWE? Better question, WHY?!

I don't understand. Maybe The boyfriend can explain it to me?