Take me Ouuuu-uuuut!
I realize that it should be heartwarming to me when my mom attempts to make holidays happen at my house, but it makes me angry. She's in the kitchen taking construction paper, old cardboard gift boxes, glue, and a ruler to make some kind of easter basket for each of us. We do in fact have easter baskets in the attic.
But queen Irene is in the attic being bipolar and probably cutting herself or eating so much that she has to throw up in the toilet and leave pink marks on the rim without cleaning them up. Fucking sicko.
My mom is now walking up the stairs dressed in a flannel robe, carrying a dust mop. She turned to me sitting here at the computer and said "Rejoice, the lord has risen." I think her marriage to Tom Clark has allowed for these random little manneurisms of hers to be a coping mechanism of bizzare-ness when he is not around. Tom Clark is in fact at church this morning. I think just my mom and dad alone are eating an easter dinner together. I asked my mom if we were doing anything for easter on friday and she said no. I took up other plans, then she told me she was making "nothing big, you know, we'll just have a few dishes there." They're so after the fact. They want it to be as though their children are living everywhere but here in Batavia so that they don't have the responsibility, but I guarantee myself that when I asked if we were doing anything, she had a talk with my dad and felt obligated to make something up. She didn't really want to, but she felt guilty because I asked. These are the people who haven't given be actual frivolous Christmas presents that I may or may not have wanted (i.e. anything from a mall) since I was in 8th grade.
But I don't care about these things, I guess. I think I would much rather sit in my back yard with a bag over my head than sit at a dinner table with Tom Clark as he hunches over his food and makes snide remarks about other people he feels he is much better than. But even though he feels he is better than these people he feels compassion for the impoverished and less fortunate. I really don't wish any harm on this man (but I do), I only wish that'd he'd disappear as though he never existed at all, and that I was a product of Immaculate Conception (thus explaining why I don't feel any devotion to organized religion right now because I am the second coming of Christ. Duh.). And my poor mom would be the feeble minded woman with a love of simple things in life that would've been the sole provider of my entire life.
So because things aren't like that, I will spend easter away from my home. I think I'm embarrassed by the feeble attempts my parents make sometimes at making holidays happen. My dad could care less. If he lived alone he'd be heating a hungry man t.v. dinner (A WHOLE POUND OF FOOD!) and watching 24, CSI, or Law and Order for his easter celebration. My mom would've liked god more and she'd have gone to church if she were alone. Or maybe she'd be one of those old women who aren't supported by the welfare system so they are forced to work at Dunkin Donuts on the weekends because they're retirement fund was spent on their daughter. Ugh... That's my biggest fear.
My family provides me with so much unrest. Literally. Last night when I got home I ate Burger King (which I COMPLETELY regret), I sat at my computer, then I brushed my teeth and laid in bed to try to fall asleep. I tried to read but I was still dizzy-headed, but eventually around 2 I managed to fall asleep until 3:40 in the morning. After that I was awake--good solid awake and over heated until 6 in the morning. I was writhing in pain as I tried to get comfortable practically naked under my blanket with the fan pointing at me and the lights off. When I actually did fall asleep, I had a dream that I was in a house with wooden stairs and basically the frame of a house with meager dressings on the walls and windows. It was very rickety and I was speaking in spanish the entire time. There was a little man who I was afraid of who kept chasing me. He wasn't a midget but he was proportionately a small man of about 4 feet or so. I remember running down the stairs away from him but I couldn't do it fast enough. I was afraid I'd fall so I turned around and he was close behind me. I distinctly remember not wanting him to touch my butt. I think I pushed him and bashed his head in the wall so that he wouldn't touch me. He may or may not have bitten me.
Now I'm going to shower. I feel unhealthy on so many levels right now. I haven't had enough sleep, there are traces of liquor in my stomach, I've eaten terribly ever since break, and I'm just a miserable Sharon Clark as usual.
MY teeth are rotting out of my head from all the sugar consumption. Maybe I'll give up food until Lauryn and I make it to New York? Doubt it.
But queen Irene is in the attic being bipolar and probably cutting herself or eating so much that she has to throw up in the toilet and leave pink marks on the rim without cleaning them up. Fucking sicko.
My mom is now walking up the stairs dressed in a flannel robe, carrying a dust mop. She turned to me sitting here at the computer and said "Rejoice, the lord has risen." I think her marriage to Tom Clark has allowed for these random little manneurisms of hers to be a coping mechanism of bizzare-ness when he is not around. Tom Clark is in fact at church this morning. I think just my mom and dad alone are eating an easter dinner together. I asked my mom if we were doing anything for easter on friday and she said no. I took up other plans, then she told me she was making "nothing big, you know, we'll just have a few dishes there." They're so after the fact. They want it to be as though their children are living everywhere but here in Batavia so that they don't have the responsibility, but I guarantee myself that when I asked if we were doing anything, she had a talk with my dad and felt obligated to make something up. She didn't really want to, but she felt guilty because I asked. These are the people who haven't given be actual frivolous Christmas presents that I may or may not have wanted (i.e. anything from a mall) since I was in 8th grade.
But I don't care about these things, I guess. I think I would much rather sit in my back yard with a bag over my head than sit at a dinner table with Tom Clark as he hunches over his food and makes snide remarks about other people he feels he is much better than. But even though he feels he is better than these people he feels compassion for the impoverished and less fortunate. I really don't wish any harm on this man (but I do), I only wish that'd he'd disappear as though he never existed at all, and that I was a product of Immaculate Conception (thus explaining why I don't feel any devotion to organized religion right now because I am the second coming of Christ. Duh.). And my poor mom would be the feeble minded woman with a love of simple things in life that would've been the sole provider of my entire life.
So because things aren't like that, I will spend easter away from my home. I think I'm embarrassed by the feeble attempts my parents make sometimes at making holidays happen. My dad could care less. If he lived alone he'd be heating a hungry man t.v. dinner (A WHOLE POUND OF FOOD!) and watching 24, CSI, or Law and Order for his easter celebration. My mom would've liked god more and she'd have gone to church if she were alone. Or maybe she'd be one of those old women who aren't supported by the welfare system so they are forced to work at Dunkin Donuts on the weekends because they're retirement fund was spent on their daughter. Ugh... That's my biggest fear.
My family provides me with so much unrest. Literally. Last night when I got home I ate Burger King (which I COMPLETELY regret), I sat at my computer, then I brushed my teeth and laid in bed to try to fall asleep. I tried to read but I was still dizzy-headed, but eventually around 2 I managed to fall asleep until 3:40 in the morning. After that I was awake--good solid awake and over heated until 6 in the morning. I was writhing in pain as I tried to get comfortable practically naked under my blanket with the fan pointing at me and the lights off. When I actually did fall asleep, I had a dream that I was in a house with wooden stairs and basically the frame of a house with meager dressings on the walls and windows. It was very rickety and I was speaking in spanish the entire time. There was a little man who I was afraid of who kept chasing me. He wasn't a midget but he was proportionately a small man of about 4 feet or so. I remember running down the stairs away from him but I couldn't do it fast enough. I was afraid I'd fall so I turned around and he was close behind me. I distinctly remember not wanting him to touch my butt. I think I pushed him and bashed his head in the wall so that he wouldn't touch me. He may or may not have bitten me.
Now I'm going to shower. I feel unhealthy on so many levels right now. I haven't had enough sleep, there are traces of liquor in my stomach, I've eaten terribly ever since break, and I'm just a miserable Sharon Clark as usual.
MY teeth are rotting out of my head from all the sugar consumption. Maybe I'll give up food until Lauryn and I make it to New York? Doubt it.