Hey. I haven’t even been eighteen for two weeks and my life is already spiraling back to the same hellish state it’s been for years. Freaking Amanda, my sister (she’s ten now), just can’t help herself from making up lie after lie about me to get me in trouble, and my parents just eat it up, because God forbid Sam ever be allowed to not be the “problem child.” Screw that. Seriously, how the hell am I supposed to coexist with these assholes if they don’t even let me try and be good?!
I’d been doing much better at controlling myself in the midst of all of this bullshit for awhile, but these past few days have been harder. I don’t know why. All I know is that I can’t wait to get my shit together and get the hell out of here. I’m so fucking tired of being the family scapegoat for fucking everything! It’s always my fault, somehow. Doesn’t matter if I’m in a different room, or not even home, everything always ends up back at me. Seriously, I can’t make this shit up. Fuck this.
And, of course, anyone who observes this always assumes that my parents are automatically right and always have some prior reason to be extra pissed off at me this time. I can’t even really vent to anyone because they always blame me! I want to scream and cry and punch holes into walls and kick down doors and a bunch of other super-destructive shit like taking a baseball bat and smashing shit, but it’s not like I can do any of that, and imagining karma coming back to bite them in their asses isn’t really cutting it anymore. One of these days I’m just gonna snap, and I don’t know what’s gonna happen then. I really don’t. It scares me, it truly does.
Fuck this shit.
P.S. I’m not gonna kill myself or my family or anything (because apparently I need to clarify this). Honestly, I think that would be a cop-out. Really not my style. I’m more of a flip-’em-the-bird, fuck-you-all-I-succeeded-despite-all-of-your-bullshit person, anyway.
Hey. As some of you may know, in less than a month, on September 11, I will turn eighteen and will officially be an adult. Yikes.
I don’t feel like an adult. And I certainly don’t feel anywhere near ready to not be a child any more! It’s crazy. I don’t even feel seventeen! How am I supposed to feel like an adult when I already feel younger than I really am?!
I don’t want to grow up. Seriously, I have enough problems dealing with the responsibility of being an almost-adult as it is. Besides, I still don’t even schedule my own doctor’s appointments!
How can I be less than a month away from being an adult?
I don’t drive yet. I don’t even have my permit! I’ve had enough problems dealing with the process of enrolling in college. How am I supposed to navigate adulthood?
I keep trying to tell myself that I’m just worrying over nothing, that it’ll all be okay, but I can’t bring myself to believe it. Is this how everyone feels? Let me know your thoughts.
Okay, I was planning on a much longer post, but I have to go babysit in a couple minutes, so I have to go. Bye!
Hey. I’ve talked about how I coach baseball before, right? Well, last night was our first playoff game. Overall it was a pretty good game, even though we ended up losing by one, but that’s not the point. During the game, one of the parents from the other team said something about one of the kids on my team. The asshole said something along the lines of, “this kid shouldn’t be playing with eight-year-olds” or something like that. Now, that isn’t what pissed me off, but it annoyed me a bit, since the minor league goes up to age 12 and the kid in question, who I will refer to as M, is barely considered a ten-year-old this season (had he been born a month later than he was, he would’ve actually been considered a nine-year-old this season). However, I could see why someone might think that. M is a pretty big kid, and a wicked strong player.
Anyway, I decided to go over there and just tell the parent that, hey, M actually just turned ten, there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be playing with eight-year-olds. I figured the parent had made that comment because he was worried about his kid playing against M, maybe worried that his kid might get hurt because M’s such a good (and powerful) player, and I actually just wanted to set the record straight so he wouldn’t have to worry about it. That’s the only reason I went over there at all. So, I go over there and make a couple comments about how this is a really good game, and how I feel bad for some of the pitchers because a lot of perfect strikes were being called balls by the umpire. Small talk, you know? I was talking with a couple of the parents for a minute about how it could be worse, though, and the umpire could be favoring one team over the other, so at least he’s calling balls and strikes the same for each team, even if he is saying the strikes are balls.
After a minute or two of this, I was like, “Oh, and whoever said M shouldn’t be playing with eight-year-olds, he actually just turned ten about a month ago, so he’s well within his age range.” One of the parents pretty much flips out and is like, “What are you doing, coming over here just to start something?” I’m kinda taken aback at this point. Like, seriously, I wasn’t nasty about it at all, and just wanted to correct them to make them feel better. I said, “I’m not trying to cause trouble or anything, I just wanted to say that there’s no reason why M shouldn’t be playing with eight-year-olds,” but the asshole just kept going. He was like, “I’m not gonna listen to some smart-ass teenager who doesn’t know how to respect adults. Why don’t you just go back to your own side, little girl?” Ugh, even thinking about it right now is pissing me off all over again!
At this point, I was really starting to get pissed off. I just said, “Respect is earned, and you’re not acting like an adult right now,” which, okay, maybe wasn’t the best way to try and keep the peace, but hey, I’ve never been one to just stand there while people insult me. I was so freaking pissed at this point. Then- get this!- he yells across the field, “Hey Tigers, you wanna come get your little girl and bring her back to your side?!” and one of the coaches from the other team hears and comes over. He says to me, “Hey, come on, just leave them alone,” which I don’t blame him for, because he only heard the asshole, but still. It was annoying that he was so quick to blame me, because I’ve been involved with this baseball league for over a decade, and I’m umpired a lot of his games, so I know he knows I’m not a bad kid or a troublemaker or anything, but whatever. At that point, I just walked back over to the other side and tried to keep my mouth shut, because it just wasn’t worth it.
I freaking hate people who think they’re better than you just because they’re older. That’s bullshit. Ugh. See? This is why I don’t like people! Everyone always thinks I’m kidding when I say, “I just have a strong dislike for people in general,” but I’m being completely honest. People in general just piss me off.
If there’s one thing I absolutely cannot stand, it’s when people have that “holier than thou” attitude. Ugh. Seriously. I just… ugh!
Well, that’s it for now. Hopefully I’ll keep posting. Bye!
P.S. As always, the links to the original pages can be found by clicking the images.
Hey. As I said in my last post, I’ve started watching Bones. Well, more like I binge-watched all ten-and-a-half seasons during the second week of December and have been rewatching them ever since, but whatever. Anyways, a few weeks ago, my sister was hanging out with me in my room and I happened to be watching Bones on my Xbox 360, using the Netflix app. She asked what I was watching and I was like, “Oh my God, Mina, this is Bones, it’s so awesome, oh my God, here, let’s watch it from the beginning, we’ll start at the first episode of season one!” Ever since then, she’s been hooked, watching episodes on Netflix in her free time. Turns out, she also told all of her friends about Bones, too, and now they’re obsessed with it, too, and they told their friends and now I seem to have gotten an entirely new generation obsessed with Bones.
I kinda feel like I should be getting paid for this….
Anyways, I’m gonna end this post now. I know it’s pretty short, but I want to go set everything up for Camp NaNoWriMo , which is next month. Bye!
Hey. I’m sorry for not posting in pretty much over a year. Yeah, there’s been a post thrown in here or there, but not like I used to. I know I’ve said this before, but this time I’m really going to try to change that. My absence from this blog… well, I think posting is actually a helpful outlet for all the crap going on in my life.
In less than twelve hours from now, my grandfather will have been dead for a year. I still haven’t cried except for, like, literally less than two minutes right after I walked into his wake and saw his body lying in the casket. When my grandma died, she had already been cremated for her wake— all I saw was the urn. This, clearly, was different.
I’m a crier. Not purposely, because I can’t control it— it’s just who I am. I cry when I’m upset. I cry when I’m sad. When I’m frustrated. Pissed off. Sometimes that irritates the hell out of me, because when I’m so pissed that I can literally feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins I really don’t want to cry because I want to keep my shit together in order to be taken seriously. That being said, you would think that I would’ve been able to cry about my grandpa, right? I mean, I cried for my grandma. But nope. Of course not.
You know, it kinda makes me wonder if I’m a horrible person, because how can a crier not cry over the death of someone they absolutely adored?! And yeah, I’ve heard all of the crap about how everyone grieves differently and how not everyone cries and blah blah blah, and I get it. I really do. But I’m still me. Granted, I’m now a sixteen- and seventeen-year-old me as opposed to an eleven- and twelve-year-old me, but still.
I’m a crier, and I haven’t cried for my dead grandpa. And he’s been dead for a year as of less than twelve hours from now.
But I think I want to be done discussing my slightly-worrisome lack of tears, so. Yeah.
In December, I binge-watched all ten-and-a-half seasons of Bones. Damn. That show is freaking AMAZING! But ugh, seriously! I CANNOT believe it took Booth and Brennan six freaking seasons to finally stop being stupid and realize they’re in love! SIX. FREAKING. SEASONS! Although, I did get a somewhat-popular post on Tumblr out of it:
And yes, I know, 27 notes is kind of nothing, but for me, that’s the most attention any of my social media posts have ever gotten from complete strangers, which for some reason feels like an accomplishment.
I’ve just started watching Scandal on Netflix, too. I’m currently a little over halfway through the first episode of Season 4. God, Shonda Rhimes is a freaking genius! Seriously, I’m hooked! Jeez, she’s just so freaking amazing. Which kinda, you know, sucks, with her being an evil genius who lives to crush the hopes and dreams of all her viewers and all. Yeah… I’m a lost cause. There’s no going back! 🙂
Well, that’s it for now. I’m going to get back to watching Scandal. Plus, I’m trying to hang out with my friend S.B. tonight, so I’m going to go for now. Bye!
The late Georgia Senator Nancy Schaefer knew more about Child Protective Services, (CPS), and “State Sanctioned Kidnapping” than what any other politician knew, and some suspect it was related to her death. She was murdered in March of 2010, but her published report, The Corrupt Business of Child Protective Services, is summarized below. It concisely delineates many of the problems of a system that can be shown to be doing more harm than good, but too few are willing to accept that. Instead, every state across the country purports to study and “fix” it every few years, and change its name so that people will think the agency that begs to be aborted, has changed. It has not.
CPS – Don’t let the name fool you! Child “Protective” Services – the agency that harms children most. It is a known fact that child protection agencies across the country are failing…
View original post 2,630 more words