Road Trip to Binghamton 5/25/2002
I'm quite pissed. I wrote most of an entry yesterday, and then accidentally deleted it.
OK, from May 16-19 I was taking a road trip to Binghamton to watch my sister graduate. The trip up there was fairly uneventful, except for some minor fights about seating arrangements. We had decided to break up the six-hour trip into two days, so it'd be easier on my dad. We stopped off at the Marriott Hotel in Tarrytown, NY. The hotel was exquisite, and the food was unbelievable...I still have dreams about that food ::shakes it off::
The rooms were really tiny, which was a real problem since my little brothers Jake and John were sharing a room with me. John insisted that Jake and I sleep in the same bed. Jake, of course, got sick that night, and spent the night sneezing, coughing, wheezing, sniffling, tossing, turning, and kicking me. Now, during the school year, I make myself endure sleep deprivation for academic purposes. there is no reason under the sun why I should not be able to sleep during my summer vacation. needless to say, I was in a bad mood the next morning.
The ride to the Binghamton hotel was fairly uneventful, execpt for a fight between me and John. I asked him if he could sleep with Jake that night so I might be able to get some sleep. He refused, which pissed me off. I had spent so much time tutoring him in chemistry and in math, often staying up late because he had waited until the last minute to do his work. I ask him for a small favor in return, and he won't even do that. Call me petty, but that sort of stuff really irritates me. Part of the reason why I have no backbone is because this is the crap I have to put up with, with my own family, on a daily basis. Luckily enough, there was a futon in my parents' hotel rom, so we put Jake there. My parents of course, were pissed at me because they couldn't have the privacy they wanted, which made me in an even worse mood. God forbid I should sleep...or maybe ::gasp:: John would compromise and sleep with Jake for one night. But it's not like I'm bitter or anything.
The rest of the trip was a mess. We all ended up fighting for the rest of the trip. The next night my sister had come over to the hotel, and she was talking to my parents in the next room. My sister was telling them that she found out that having girls makes a woman's life longer, on average, by about 34 weeks, and for each boy a woman has, her life span is decreased by about 34 weeks. The argument was that girls suuposedly cause less stress to a woman's life than sons, and that daughter's tend to keep in touch with their mothers more, which also lessens the stress on the mother. My mother's argument was that both John and I (interestingly enough, my mother didn't include Becca) give my mother stress. My dad then said, "Yeah, but at least John makes us smile once in awhile." That was probably the most hurtful thing anyone has ever said to me. The fact that it came from my own dad pisses me off even more.
We had adjoining hotel rooms, and my parents didn't realize how loud they were speaking, and didn't realize that I heard every word. What REALLY got me mad was that my dad ame into my room a few minutes later, and was like, "Artist, are you OK? How are you?" He was just so two-faced about it I wanted to scream. When I'm angry, I let you know I'm angry. I don't talk behind your back and then act like a sweetheart to your face. I didn't speak to my parents for the rest of the trip, unless we were yelling at each other. I'm still not speaking to my mother or father. I'll reply when they speak to me, but I don't initiate conversations or anything. As much as I hated being away, I've decided that I hate being home even more.
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