Sorry...
Well, my sister finally did it.
She stole the car (without a license) and crashed it into a pole. Then she tried to plea innocent with mom, but sorry doesn't cut it, and neither does the guilt tripping:
"You did illegal things when you were my age too!!"
But there's a difference between teens smoking pot in the seventies and a non-licensed minor stealing a car and driving it across town in THIS generation.
Now she's not getting her license until she's twenty-one. Thank you, Mr. Policeman! Can you teach her more?
In other news, this is what I wrote in my MySpace tonight. It's really whiny and bitter, and very suited to MySpace material, so I doubt it's worth reading; but hey, I needed to vent:
I'm going to be moving out soon (thank God!!!!!!!!!) Wonder why...
Goodbye hell-hole home where nobody appreciates my presence until I'm not there to take care of the dirty work.
Goodbye out-of-control, alcoholic mother/cleptomaniac/compulsive liar who loves me one minute, but prefers my sisters the next.
Goodbye sister who will be friendly as long as you get to hog up my living space, sell my stuff, and talk about me to my psycho ex-boyfriend who is now your boyfriend.
Goodbye other sister who is a self-centered, emo-poser running a criminal lifestyle even worse than my mother's ever was, and who also doesn't give a flying shit about her own family or about respect towards anyone in general.
Sorry, Dad. Sorry Nanny. But I can't live in a house where my own sisters wouldn't mind all too much if I just disappeared and never came back. If I died, they might sigh a little, shaking their heads, "What a pity. But she was crazy anyway."
And my mom's drinking habits make me sick.
But just to emphasize: I DON'T HATE MY FAMILY.
I love them... and that's the problem.
I got to the suicide point once for the same reasons not too long ago, but I'm not letting that happen again.
It's time for a new home.
She stole the car (without a license) and crashed it into a pole. Then she tried to plea innocent with mom, but sorry doesn't cut it, and neither does the guilt tripping:
"You did illegal things when you were my age too!!"
But there's a difference between teens smoking pot in the seventies and a non-licensed minor stealing a car and driving it across town in THIS generation.
Now she's not getting her license until she's twenty-one. Thank you, Mr. Policeman! Can you teach her more?
In other news, this is what I wrote in my MySpace tonight. It's really whiny and bitter, and very suited to MySpace material, so I doubt it's worth reading; but hey, I needed to vent:
I'm going to be moving out soon (thank God!!!!!!!!!) Wonder why...
Goodbye hell-hole home where nobody appreciates my presence until I'm not there to take care of the dirty work.
Goodbye out-of-control, alcoholic mother/cleptomaniac/compulsive liar who loves me one minute, but prefers my sisters the next.
Goodbye sister who will be friendly as long as you get to hog up my living space, sell my stuff, and talk about me to my psycho ex-boyfriend who is now your boyfriend.
Goodbye other sister who is a self-centered, emo-poser running a criminal lifestyle even worse than my mother's ever was, and who also doesn't give a flying shit about her own family or about respect towards anyone in general.
Sorry, Dad. Sorry Nanny. But I can't live in a house where my own sisters wouldn't mind all too much if I just disappeared and never came back. If I died, they might sigh a little, shaking their heads, "What a pity. But she was crazy anyway."
And my mom's drinking habits make me sick.
But just to emphasize: I DON'T HATE MY FAMILY.
I love them... and that's the problem.
I got to the suicide point once for the same reasons not too long ago, but I'm not letting that happen again.
It's time for a new home.