"People fake a lot of human interactions, but I feel like I fake them all."
On Tia's birthday, as we neared the corner of Moyston and State, we saw our bus sitting at the stop. So I ran as fast as I could and reached the door just as it closed. He wasn't driving yet, so I knocked on the door lightly as Kara, Tia, and Bianca caught up. He nudged forward three times and then slowly drove away. It was as if he asked himself, "Should I be a decent person and let these people on?" and then answered himself, "Nah!" I hate this city.
Yesterday, Kara came over and woke me up. We laid in my uncomfortable deflated bed and then my grandmother offered to bring us to Salvation Army so I could buy a mattress. We split the cost 50/50, each shelling out $20 for it. While waiting in line, my grandmother recognized my mother's best friend Dee and her daughter, whom I've only met once. The first words out their mouths was about my father and how insane he is, and how my parents have been arguing all week. Now, I don't care what people think. And I certainly don't give a shit was is socially regarded as 'appropriate' for public conversation around total strangers, but I was fucking pissed that they were talking so candid about my father right in front of me. So I loudly interjected, "He's my father!" They didn't notice me. I repeated, "He's my father!" and walked in between them. They all struggled to make up for it, "I said your father's a nice guy!" It was such bullshit. And Dee's daughter looked at me like I was out of line or something for defending my father. It's my family and none of those fucking people, my grandmother included, are part of it. It was so infuriating. Sometimes, I just want to hit my grandmother in the face; she jumps at any opportunity to talk badly about my father with strangers. I looked at her and asked, "Are at all able to gauge what is appropriate public conversation and what isn't?!" Talk about the fucking weather, not my fucking family.
Before I even got the chance to lay in my bed for the first time, I needed to get out of that house. So once Kara and I loaded the thing onto my boxspring, we left and went to Tia's. Before we got back into the car, my grandmother complimented Kara on her body: "Ohhhh, I wish I had the body you did! And your boobs are so nice and small! I hate my big boobs!" It was incredibly awkward and hilarious.
The plan was simple: vegan ice cream and the entire first season of Dexter. When we got there, Bianca was there. I didn't even know she knew we were hanging out. But of course, she would be gone in about an hour because she doesn't stick up for herself at the feet of her mother, who is hell-bent on keeping her a shut-in. As Bianca left, the Chinese food I ordered for everyone showed up. It started to rain outside, which slightly cooled the city down from its suffocating mugginess. I was totally surprised at just how fucking awesome the show Dexter was. Usually, when something gets popular in America, it's safe to assume that it's fucking stupid. But this was actually a well-written show with an endlessly engrossing plot and brilliant dialog. A blood spatter analyst who kills criminals who get away with their murders? Fucking genius! I really liked it. Kara eventually left, too, because she too cannot seem to stand up to her parents. So I stayed there with Tia and we finished up the lo mein and soda. We were up until 6 in the morning until we finally finished the last episode of the first season of Dexter. So fucking awesome. I'm pumped there's four more seasons for me to catch up with. We talked about film for a little bit and then I walked back home. Across the street from me, an obese couple screamed at one another. "Stop running from me!" said the woman to the man, even though the both of them were sluggishly walking only about twenty feet apart from one another. It was their version of a chase, I guess.
I slept until 8PM. I don't know if it was due to my new comfortable mattress or my debilitating feeling of hopelessness while back in this city, but as it just passes midnight and I feel not the slightest bit tired, I'm regretting letting it happen. I watched the sequel to Boondock Saints. It was pretty cool, I guess. I sewed a patch onto some red shorts I found. It says, "STRAIGHT FUCKING EDGE" and has the Jonas Brothers above it. It's going to be a long night.
The last two nights, I've come home to over thirty questions on my Formspring. That site is soul-crushing.
Yesterday, Kara came over and woke me up. We laid in my uncomfortable deflated bed and then my grandmother offered to bring us to Salvation Army so I could buy a mattress. We split the cost 50/50, each shelling out $20 for it. While waiting in line, my grandmother recognized my mother's best friend Dee and her daughter, whom I've only met once. The first words out their mouths was about my father and how insane he is, and how my parents have been arguing all week. Now, I don't care what people think. And I certainly don't give a shit was is socially regarded as 'appropriate' for public conversation around total strangers, but I was fucking pissed that they were talking so candid about my father right in front of me. So I loudly interjected, "He's my father!" They didn't notice me. I repeated, "He's my father!" and walked in between them. They all struggled to make up for it, "I said your father's a nice guy!" It was such bullshit. And Dee's daughter looked at me like I was out of line or something for defending my father. It's my family and none of those fucking people, my grandmother included, are part of it. It was so infuriating. Sometimes, I just want to hit my grandmother in the face; she jumps at any opportunity to talk badly about my father with strangers. I looked at her and asked, "Are at all able to gauge what is appropriate public conversation and what isn't?!" Talk about the fucking weather, not my fucking family.
Before I even got the chance to lay in my bed for the first time, I needed to get out of that house. So once Kara and I loaded the thing onto my boxspring, we left and went to Tia's. Before we got back into the car, my grandmother complimented Kara on her body: "Ohhhh, I wish I had the body you did! And your boobs are so nice and small! I hate my big boobs!" It was incredibly awkward and hilarious.
The plan was simple: vegan ice cream and the entire first season of Dexter. When we got there, Bianca was there. I didn't even know she knew we were hanging out. But of course, she would be gone in about an hour because she doesn't stick up for herself at the feet of her mother, who is hell-bent on keeping her a shut-in. As Bianca left, the Chinese food I ordered for everyone showed up. It started to rain outside, which slightly cooled the city down from its suffocating mugginess. I was totally surprised at just how fucking awesome the show Dexter was. Usually, when something gets popular in America, it's safe to assume that it's fucking stupid. But this was actually a well-written show with an endlessly engrossing plot and brilliant dialog. A blood spatter analyst who kills criminals who get away with their murders? Fucking genius! I really liked it. Kara eventually left, too, because she too cannot seem to stand up to her parents. So I stayed there with Tia and we finished up the lo mein and soda. We were up until 6 in the morning until we finally finished the last episode of the first season of Dexter. So fucking awesome. I'm pumped there's four more seasons for me to catch up with. We talked about film for a little bit and then I walked back home. Across the street from me, an obese couple screamed at one another. "Stop running from me!" said the woman to the man, even though the both of them were sluggishly walking only about twenty feet apart from one another. It was their version of a chase, I guess.
I slept until 8PM. I don't know if it was due to my new comfortable mattress or my debilitating feeling of hopelessness while back in this city, but as it just passes midnight and I feel not the slightest bit tired, I'm regretting letting it happen. I watched the sequel to Boondock Saints. It was pretty cool, I guess. I sewed a patch onto some red shorts I found. It says, "STRAIGHT FUCKING EDGE" and has the Jonas Brothers above it. It's going to be a long night.
The last two nights, I've come home to over thirty questions on my Formspring. That site is soul-crushing.