Breaking Out 8/20/2001
This entire weekend sucked. I packed, which I hate. It makes everything so final. My winter clothes are in garbage bags, my hangers are crammed into my bedspread, I'm not taking up half the stuff I wanted to, yet I still have six boxes, one bag of hanging clothes, three of those plastic boxes, and two garbage bags. Plus I have my pillows, my laundry basket filled with towels and detergent, and my computer/tower. The icing on the cake: my dorm is located on the biggest hill on campus. If there is a God, he has an odd sense of humor :o).
Yesterday we got into a major family fight. My mother has just been a troll for the past week. She's starting to act like that possessed woman on "The Exocist" and its really starting to piss me off. Example: This morning my sister was looking for her book. Since we had bought notebooks for her the day before, I figured I'd help and remind my sister that her notebooks in my room. I opened my door and told Becca. My mother blows up at me saying, "That's not what she's talking about! Stay out of conversations that don't involve you!" Becca and I were more than a little shocked. I mean, damn woman, I was just trying to help. So I slammed the door while my mother was talking to me, which only made things worse.
But anyway, that was today and the fight started yesterday. Actually, I could see it coming for awhile, but I'm off the topic again. When Becca went away, the last Sunday she was home, the entire family went out for a big expensive dinner. Since yesterday was my last Sunday home, we figured we'd go out to John Harvards. JOhn decided that he wanted to go to a quick dinner and then race back home to see some wrestling event. I wanted to wait a little while, since we were supposed to take pictures that night, so I could get a little dressed up, put on make-up etc. I mean, he can always see another wrestling event. This was my last weekend home for awhile. So John screams at me "Goddamn you Artist, I haven't talked to you all day, don't start with me! I can't stand you!" My parents and I had to fight John to make him come up to Syrcuse with us. He wanted to stay home, so he could see his camp friends for the three days of camp that we're going to be missing. Now, he didn't even want to go out to dinner with me. He prefers wrestling and camp over his own sister. You have no idea how much that hurts...
I told my mother I didn't want to go out to dinner. My troll of a mother and my asshole of a brother did a fantastic job of ruining my appetite. After that I went into my room and cried for an hour. From downstairs I could hear my mother yelling, "I don't fucking care. Order in for dinner, go out to dinner, I don't care." Nice mom, your daughter is crying, and you're cursing downstairs that you don't care. It took my dad a good forty minutes to coax me out of my bed. He thought it was all a joke. He kept saying, "You'll have some shrimp, you'll feel better." Fuck, I don't want shrimp, I'd like some decent siblings. My mother didn't speak to me for the rest of the night and John appeared to be having a blast watching his wrestling show. Even Jake seemed pissed that he had to miss wrestling, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. NIce going away party, huh? I should thank all of them--they cured me of any future homesickness I might have. Any time I feel homesick, I'll read this entry and come back to reality.
Last Thursday was supposed to be me, Becca, and Dad's last sushi dinner together. We had been planning it for two weeks. Thursday afternoon my sister decides that she'd rather go out to dinner with her friend Pete. I know I'm not crazy because my dad was just as hurt as I was. The five of us went out for Chinese. I went to the Japanese section and ate nothing but sushi to console myself a little. We got home and Becca was already there. It turns out that her half-assed plans fell through and she never went out to dinner with Pete.
So yeah, after this weekend, I'm definitely looking forward to getting out of this house and getting away from everybody. I'm seriously considering stealing my Syracuse address and phone number from the downstairs bulletin board so no-one can call me until I come home for the Jewish holidays...
Until next ramble
Artist
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