Cars And Other Oldest Child Problems

Hey. I don’t thing I mentioned this, but a few months ago, I got my driving permit. I’ve decided not to take Driver’s Ed (I’m not required to as I’m eighteen) because the cost of the actual classes would amount to more than the discount on insurance I would receive. Anyway, I’ve been driving my dad’s old Honda Fit around. When he bought his new truck, he didn’t trade in the Honda because I was going to start driving soon. Well, I was talking to my mom about something (I don’t remember what) when it was brought up that when I move out, I’m going to have to buy another car so my brother can drive the Fit.

First, let me just say that I kinda get where she’s coming from. They already have a car for my brother to learn to drive in. However, as my little sister is five years younger than my brother, it’s not like she’ll be driving anytime soon after he is. Meaning he most likely won’t have to buy another car when he moves out since he’ll probably get to just take the Fit with him. So basically, just because I’m the oldest child, I’m going to have to buy my own car.

It’s freaking ridiculous. If anything, it should be the other way around, since I’m the oldest. I’d also say that my parents should save it for my other two little siblings to drive, since that makes sense, even though they’re five and seven years younger than my brother, but my parents will probably be like, “well, Amanda’s still five years away, why shouldn’t Roman keep the car” because they pull stuff like that all the time. I kinda feel like a brat for complaining, so let me reiterate: I’m not complaining about me not being able to keep the Honda, I’m upset that my brother most likely will be allowed to keep it just because there is a larger age gap between him and the next kid to start driving.

This is just one more annoyance to add the my ongoing mental “Oldest Child Problems” list. I get really pissed off when my little siblings complain about not being the oldest child, because seriously, I get not being able to do everything your older sibling can do, because I was always wicked close to my cousin who’s older than me by a few years, but when you’re siblings, there’s really not a lot that the parents don’t allow the slightly younger sibling to do if the older sibling can. Pretty much anything I’m allowed to do, so can my brother, and it’s always been that was, unless it was like a legal issue or something, like driving before you’re sixteen. When I first started sitting in the front seat, I was forced to take turns with my brother, even though I’m two years older than him and he has always been underweight. When I was allowed to ride my bike alone, so could Roman. When I got the new Gameboy, so did he. We always had the same bedtime, except for now, because I’m eighteen and no longer in school while he has to be in bed by 10:30 on school nights. However, he rarely, if ever, follows this rule, and it’s really not enforced by my parents. When I still had a bedtime, if it were even five minute past and I wasn’t in bed yet, I would be in trouble.

I’m just baffled by the blatant differences in my parents’ treatment of my siblings versus me. I don’t understand how it can be so much different. I get that we’re all different and thus should be reprimanded differently and treated differently in different situations, but to an extent. My sister is eleven, and I know for a fact that when I was ten, I was folding laundry, because I accidentally said “crap” in front of my mom while switching it over once (and my siblings say crap and worse all the time and are mostly just left alone or given a minor slap on the wrist). My sister has no chores at all except for sometimes bringing the hamper down to the laundry room, sometimes cleaning the bunny’s cage, and very rarely scooping the cat litter (not even changing it, just scooping). AJ is nine and has no chores at all. He doesn’t even have to clear his own plate from the table (neither does Amanda).

I guess I just don’t understand why there’s such a huge difference. Am I the only one who feels this way? Let me know in the comments.

Okay, I’ve gotta go. It’s Camp NaNoWriMo, and I have to get writing. Bye!

-Sam

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You’ve Gotta Be Freaking Kidding Me….

Hey. I know I’ve been absent for just short of six months. I’m going to try to fix that. Anyway, today my parents drove up to New Hampshire to buy a camper, leaving me and my sixteen-year-old home alone (my parents brought my two littlest siblings to my grandma’s for the day). My mom didn’t leave a list of chores, like she usually does, but just told me to get my folding done and clean one small area of the house up. I folded and cleaned up the gaming area, and then decided to do some extra, because I wanted to surprise her. I scooped the cat litter, vacuumed around the bunny’s cage, and cleaned her cage. I then swept the kitchen floor.

So, my parents come home around four, four-thirty. My mom and I are talking and she says something like, “I’m glad you both got your stuff done today.” I’m like, wait a second, Roman did nothing all day. She says, “He cleaned the cat litter.”

Excuse me??

I start to get mad at this point, because, as conniving as he is, I never expected him to stoop this low. My mom says, “Oh, you both must’ve scooped it,” which, even if this were the case, that right there should tell you all you need to know about my brother’s idea of “clean”. I’m like, no, I scooped it, he didn’t. She gets mad at me and says that I’m taking away from the extra that I did today by arguing. I say, “I’m not arguing anything, I’m simply stating facts!”

And that’s pretty much how the conversation went, ending with my mom and I going in separate directions for the next few minutes. But seriously, are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell does that? At least lie about something neither of us did! Don’t try to take credit for my fucking work, asshole!

Anyway, yeah, I’m kinda freaking pissed. But whatever.

Tonight, I’m sleeping in a tent in our backyard with my two youngest siblings, AJ and Amanda. They’re asleep right now. I’m going to go watch some Netflix now, then try to get some sleep. Bye!

-Sam

And People Wonder Why I’m Always Pissed….

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.

-Sam

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.

My Annoying, Manipulative, Conniving Little Sister

Hey. I’m back, hopefully for good this time. I’ve been neglecting this for well over a year now, and I’ve come to realize just how soothing it really is to post all of my shit here. God, where do I even start…?

Well, I suppose I’ll start with right now. My fucking sister, Amanda. She’s nine now. I’ve never been anywhere near as fucking pissed off at her as I am at this moment and have been recently. My mom brought my two brothers to football practice, where my dad already was, so me and Amanda were gonna stay home alone. She was to do her homework and I was to do mine. Okay, sure. Fair enough. Right?

Yeah, well, literally the second my mom closes the front door, Amanda starts being bitchy. Her new ploy to get me in trouble is to pretty much make up a whole fucking argument with me in her head, where she’s actually yelling at me in real life but I’m still SILENTLY SITTING IN THE FUCKING RECLINER WHILE TYPING MY HOMEWORK. Remember, my mom hasn’t even been out of the house for a fucking minute yet. So I turn to look at her and say simply, “Do your homework.” I’m actually quite proud of myself for keeping myself so calm.

Anyways, she does that fucking little pretend gasp thing that you really only see the shallow, bitchy girl in all those stupid Disney movies do. “That’s it, I’M telling MOM!” So my sister seriously fucking sprints to the front door, rips it open, and runs out after my mom (who isn’t even in her fucking car yet!!), screaming how I’m already yelling at her and telling her to shut up.

Excuse me?!

Naturally, my mom believes the little conniving nine-year-old over her eldest, seventeen-year-old daughter who was left in charge and hadn’t moved an inch since she walked out the door. I hear her yell my name – “Samantha Rose Murphy, get out here right now!” – and I go over to the door just in time to get yelled at about how I better not give Amanda any crap and to just leave her alone. After about five or ten “OKAY, Mom!”s, my sister and I are back inside again and my mom gets in her car and drives away.

I tell Amanda, “Okay, you heard Mom, start getting that homework done.” What does she say to me in return, you ask? Why, a fierce “shut up!” of course. Taking a deep breath to try and keep my cool (which is definitely starting to slip by now), I say to her something along the lines of, enough with the attitude, I’m the babysitter, I’m in charge, just do your homework so I can leave you alone. “Don’t make me call Mom!” she threatens, and I’m almost unable to stop myself from laughing, but luckily I hold it in, telling her to go ahead, try it, before turning back to my computer.

She proceeds to search the house for the next five minutes, looking for one of our house phones. When she finds it, she calls my mom’s cell. The first time, she leaves a message, and is (no joke) in the middle of telling the answering machine how I screamed at her to shut up and how I’m just being a big jerk to her. I call over very, very calmly and tell her to stop making up stories. She SCREAMS at me “SHUT UP!!!!” while still talking to the answering machine and starts screaming/crying. You know, that screeching kids do when they’re trying to fake sob? Yeah, that.

She then redials my mom’s number. This time, my mom picks up. Amanda goes straight into her act, telling my mom, “Mooooooommmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy, Sammi’s being a big jerk! She’s yelling at me and calling me names and telling me to shut up!”

Which, might I remind you, is a total, 100% lie. Seriously. I am NOT making this up. Honestly? I wish I were….

My mom tells her to “put your sister on the phone right now!” Already having another handheld right next to me, I press talk and tell Amanda to hang up since I’m on with the other phone. Naturally, she yells “NO!” and of course my mom doesn’t care. She goes right into shouting at me to take my stuff and get into my room and don’t interact with Amanda and just leave her alone. I will admit that I reached my limit during this “conversation” (more like sentencing!) and snapped. I yelled at my mom over the phone, “She’s lying! Really, Mom, I’ve literally done nothing except tell her to do her homework and not be a little brat to me!”

My mom ends up screaming back at me, “I DON’T CARE, JUST GET INTO YOUR ROOM, AND IF I GET ANOTHER CALL I’M COMING BACK TO GET HER AND THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY!!!” Of course, we exchange more than just that summarization, but you get the point. I hang up and proceed to my room where I very gently close the door so I don’t accidentally slam it in my anger.

Anyways, about ten, fifteen minutes later, my mom bangs on my door. I’m super confused and ask her “why are you here, you said you weren’t gonna get her unless there was another problem?” to which she responds “maybe just think about it!” Very meanly, might I add. She then proceeds to yell in my face (literally – her toes were touching mine) to make sure I shower, do the dishes, and send my homework to her (because God forbid I actually send it to just my teacher, right? Nooooooo, cuz I would totally be lying about that unless she fucking sees it which is stupid because she’s so fucking technologically inept I get in trouble because she doesn’t know how to fucking open and view my work anyways!!). She then wordlessly turns and slams the front door on her way out, refusing to acknowledge me asking “what the hell just happened?!?!” Of course, I don’t ask like that since I don’t swear at all in front of her, but still.

And so is the story of my life. I wish I could say this is a rare, even isolated occurrence, but, alas, it is not. Not even close. I have to deal with this shit every single day! Sometimes I’m actually stumped how I haven’t literally exploded and how my guts don’t cover the walls of my house yet.

I’ll try to start doing the whole blog thing regularly again. Like, I said, I miss you guys. Later.

-Sam

P.S. Oh yeah, and on top of everything else, I’ve been sick since early Friday morning. Yeah, like I even have the fucking energy to be a fucking asshole to you, Amanda….

Meet The Genius Who’s Failing History (A.K.A. Me)

Hey! I just realized something now, something that I don’t think has ever really hit me before- I want to be successful. So badly. But right now, when I say that I’ll be successful… well, it’s not gonna happen if I don’t make some major life improvements. And fast. I have so many goals for the future (some of them realistic and down-to-earth, and some of them a little out-of-the-ordinary), but many of them depend on my achievements of now and of the next few years, like if I attend a good college. I want to be comfortable with money. I don’t want to have to worry about sending my future (six?) kids to private schools because the public school sucks (it might not, but I want to stay living in my town when I grow up, so unless there are some major changes, then that’s going to be a reality). I want to be able to donate a shit-ton of money to childhood cancer research, because those kids are worth more than 3%. I want to be someone big.

Have I ever mentioned before that my favorite car ever is a yellow Porsche 911 Turbo? And no, it’s not because of Alice Cullen. Not at all. I loved this car before New Moon was even published (I think that’s the one where Alice and Bella steal the car to save Edward?). To be honest, my love for this car is because of a video game, Need For Speed: Hot Pursuit 2 (PS2 version). Which, by the way, was released on October 1, 2002. Yes, I know, I was only four then, but we got it a couple years later when my Uncle gave my brother and I our very own PS2 (yes, I was a video game addict at probably the age of 7). Now, back to the point. As you should know, it’s a lot of money. But if I’m successful, I can eventually buy one. Except, if I keep going at this rate, I’m not even going to go to college.

This is the best car ever. Seriously.

Did you know that I’m a genius? No, seriously- my IQ (I forget the exact number, I’ll ask my mom later and then give you an update) is above the number that is considered to be genius (I’ll ask my mom on what that number is and get back to you on that one, too). Also, like I said in a previous post, I scored in the top 1% in the country when I took the placement exam for my high school. I’m a literal genius, and I’m failing history. I got a 17 on a quiz. A freaking 17. I got straight A’s in elementary and middle school, and now I’m doing horrible in high school. Why? How? I know that really, really smart people (like me, apparently) tend to do really, really bad in school, but my question is this: if I’m called an enigma in literally everything else, then why must I be normal in this case? To be blunt, it seriously blows.

I don’t understand why I’m having so much trouble in school. I mean, it’s not like I hate it. Quite the contrary, actually- I love my school, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I actually cry when I think about leaving BCHS. Especially because I’d be leaving Mr. Rose and Ms. Picone. Now that would suck, leaving them. I just, I don’t know what’s going on. Why can’t I do it? Like I said, I’m a freaking genius! I should be able to do this easily. Why can’t I? Why?

My parents say I might not go back to BCHS next year if there isn’t some drastic improvement in both my grades and my behavior (that’s for another post, in which my confusion will most likely be very clear). That scares me. So much. For one, because that would mean going back to my town’s school, where the kids are just plain cruel, horrible excuses for human beings. But mostly because that would mean leaving so much behind. I would be leaving my friends (the only non-BCHS friend I have is Gabby), Mr. Rose, Ms. Picone, the general niceness of BCHS, the helpfulness… everything. That right there terrifies me. I can’t leave this. I can’t.

I’m in so much trouble, for everything that’s happened (and some things that haven’t), it’s not even funny. I’m pretty much under house arrest without being a literal criminal. I’m not allowed to do anything, even watch Grey’s Anatomy D: Which really, really sucks, because now I’m two episodes behind. Besides that, my parents have a meeting with my school on Monday at 3:00, and they’re making me go (so, pray, think, whatever you do, for me at 3:00 pm EST on Monday! I’ll need it! 😦 ), so that should be torture. I want to cry just thinking about it. But besides that, because I’m in trouble, my stupid oldest brother (he’s 13) has been trying to feed in to my parent’s anger to try and get me in trouble. Here’s an example: two nights ago, he had to switch over the laundry. He was mad at me for some reason, and he closed the basement door when he went downstairs. Well, I went to tell my mom something (luckily) and all of a sudden we hear a bang and a “HEY!” This repeats a few times until my mom says “knock it off! She’s up here!” My brother goes “Oh” and the basement door squeaks open. He barely got in trouble for it, though. And he denied it, saying the door was jammed. But do you see what I mean?!

My life is filled with “if’s” and question marks. Because right now, that’s what my future is. One big question mark. I could be a huge success. But, the way I’m going, I could be a giant failure. I really don’t know. I wish I could say, “I’m going to be a success!” But I honestly don’t know right now. And that’s sad.

Which way will I go?

Seriously, though, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m about to fail history for the year, and my life is falling apart. I really, really hope it gets better, but one question lingers in the back of my mind: what if it doesn’t? Well, I don’t know, Sam. I just don’t know.

-Sam

P.S. As always, the original image URLs can be found by clicking the images.

I Have So Many Ideas For Running

Hey. Well, I have SO MANY IDEAS, it’s not even funny. Like seriously, I spent a whole English class writing scenes for it when I should’ve been taking notes. Although these scenes are all going to take place a little later, it’s still good to write, that way I don’t forget them. Although, maybe I should put a little less detail into them- I probably have half of Running written already, and only three of the first consecutive chapters ready to be put up on Wattpad! Oh well. Whatever works 🙂 Anyways, I gotta go. I’m at school, and my mom or dad is going to be here any minute to pick me up. Bye!

-Sam