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?

Well Jezze

The Boyfriend told me I should watch this video by Katey Perry, because apparently the song and video are both ridiculous.

I watched it and couldn't help feeling all squishy inside, epically with what has been going on with me lately. It really touched me...So I'm posting it to make those feelings appear in others.

:D

Har

So my huge sob-fest the other day has made me feel a bit better. Even if no one reads this blog, I got it out in the open, wrote it all down and it's had a...cleansing effect, I guess you could say. I feel lighter.

Which is why I'm going to bring up more stickers for smiles!

Laura the wonderful and I sat down and thought up some places for us to try stickers for smiles. She's the only one to agree to help me out on this which is nice, cause I don't want to do it by myself.

Places we've thought of:

The Mall-It is indoors and therefore, warm (CON-potential legal issues?)

On Durham college campus- This works cause it’s not like they’re going to kick us off, but Do college kids actually like stickers? Besides me, anyway?

Holy Trinity (Laura's high school)-God knows angst-ridden teens need smiles. (HA! Religion pun!)

Huh. We really didn't come up with a lot of places.

Well in our defense, just randomly outside isn't really an option, seeing as the true Canadian winter has begun in the Greater Toronto Area and, while I want to make the world a better place, handling stickers while wearing mitts is hard.

Thank you Ceemo, that's helpful. :)

Anyway, I think I'm going to kidnap Laura sometime today and try to get her to think of more. Maybe we can work on a logo for Stickers for smiles. :)

Everything sucks sometimes. (Major angst alert)

I've been so stressed and depressed lately. Nothing seems to be going right, and the things that do go right are marred by the things that don't. I'm tired and sad and even when it seems like I'm not, I am. And it's all kind of boiled down to now, sitting upstairs while my boyfriend is sleeping downstairs because he won't talk to me about what I need to talk about, feeling embarrassed because I grabbed a pajama top with some sort of stain-- probably applesauce-- on it.

I don't really have anyone to talk to. I have no real close friends anymore, no one in the vacinity who I can grab a hot chocolate with and sit down and just cry. I've got Laura, yes, and she is lovely in all of her British wonderfulness, but I can't just dump on her, because she has a lot of her own problems.

K is sick of my problems apparently, so I can't talk to her anymore and even when I can, it is tinged by all the arguments we've been having. Did I tell you she went back to the girlfriend of K? She did. Didn't last more then two days but apparently it has nothing to do with me and her.

I'm sick still. I haven't slept properly in two weeks, my boss is a douche.... I just feel like I'm falling apart at the seams. I thought tonight would make things better, maybe I could have a real talk with The Boyfriend about things and maybe tell him how I've been feeling about everything, but all I've gotten is a marathon of big bang theory and a 'Okay, goodnight I guess'. All I want if for him to come up here and hug me and tell me everything will turn out and I'll be okay. But I haven't gotten that.

At the same time I'm angry. Angry at him for not being what I need, not realizing I need him to talk to. Angry at K for the girlfriend of K and not knowing the girl she's decided to date is stupid for ever needing anything besides K and her lovely wonderful perfectness. But I'm mostly angry at myself. I get myself into all kinds of stupid trouble and I shouldn't be moping about like a 16-year old. I'm 20. I'm supposed to be a fucking adult. But it feels like I can't get my fucking act in gear and I hate myself for it.

That's what it kind of comes down to. I hate myself. I'm fat and unattractive and stupid. I'm incapable of running my own life and even when I try to forewarn people about my mistakes, they don't listen. I have no real talents to give me a guide with what my life should be. Everyone usually has that one thing that they both excel at and love, but I don't. I'm not good at math or science. I'm creative, but my creativity doesn't match my skill level and when I try to fix that the results are so horrible that I give up, it feels like there's no point in trying. I'm not overly smart and I'm not incredibly funny, I tread this fine line between good at a lot of things and bad at a lot of things.

The only real skill I have is writing, and even then it's only creative writing. I'm bad at essays or analytical paragraphs or anything that could feasibly make me money. I'm a good writer but not great, but I'm not bad enough to come up with some self-obsessed bullshit like twilight.

He grinned his crooked smile at me, stopping my breath and my heart. I couldn’t imagine how an angel could be any more glorious. There was nothing about him that could be improved upon.

*sigh* This is what the people want. Apparently fatal flaws and personality mean nothing, teenagers want a blank and meaningless person to project themselves onto. Sadly I am incapable of this.

I'm kind of incapable all around, aren't I?

:(

Hmmmmph

Fist snowfall of winter was yesterday everyone!

Anyway. I'm pretty tired lately and I think its the stress of exam times and being sick combined. I feel like I could just sleep for hours and hours.

That's all I feel like writing. You see!? Usually I would go on for paragraphs and paragraphs about why and how I feel tired, but instead, I'm going to go read cracked.com for awhile.

I have bronchitis. RUN FROM ME IN FEAR.

Bronchitis is inflammation of the mucous membranes of the bronchi, the airways that carry airflow from the trachea into the lungs. Bronchitis can be classified into two categories, acute and chronic, each of which has unique etiologies, pathologies, and therapies.

Acute bronchitis is characterized by the development of a cough, with or without the production of sputum, mucus that is expectorated (coughed up) from the respiratory tract. Acute bronchitis often occurs during the course of an acute viral illness such as the common cold or influenza. Viruses cause about 90% of cases of acute bronchitis while bacteria account for less than 10%.^[1]

Chronic bronchitis, a type of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, is characterized by the presence of a productive cough that lasts for 3 months or more per year for at least 2 years. Chronic bronchitis most often develops due to recurrent injury to the airways caused by inhaled irritants. Cigarette smoking is the most common cause, followed by air pollution and occupational exposure to irritants, and cold air.