Shoes: Not Just For Your Feet

My slutty roommate strikes again. Ok, I'm not really being fair saying she's a slut since she has a steady asshole in her life. Still, on with the blog.

Last night was my sorority formal. Yes, I am in a sorority and no, we don't haze although I wish that we did - the good stuff like scavenger hunts, not the bad stuff like sitting a girl on a dryer and turning it on so that frat boys can circle everything that jiggles.

Anyways, after she took the early bus back home with the asshole, an hour and a half I was welcomed home to the sounds of the tow of them going at it like rabid dogs and her headboard banging against the wall.

Yes, I realize that sex is a part of human nature and everyone (practically) does it, but it's quite another thing to be a complete bitch about it and make your roommate feel like a part of a dirty threesome. So to show my frustration and try to get my point across, a point that I have been politely expressing through notes and calm confrontations, I threw shoes at her door. It had to be done. Slamming the bathroom door didn't let them know that I could hear them - keep in mind that it was 1:30am and I was tired and my feet hurt and all I wanted to do was sleep - so shoes chucked directly at her bedroom door was a last resort.

And it worked.

Out comes the bitch, leaving the asshole nicely in her room with the door closed, and start by asking if I was crying because she thought that she heard me crying. This is obviously a lie considering that it took two shoes to the door for anything to even happen, so how on earth would she have been able to hear my crying if I had indeed be crying. Anyways, once I stated that I was only able to hear them going at it, she rips into me about being unfair with the throwing of the shoes. Ummm, excuse me but how is that unfair to her? Please also keep in mind that I never make noise, especially after she's gone to bed, and I always turn down any volume of what is playing when she is trying to sleep. Apparently this isn't reciprocated because along with hearing her faking pleasure, she had shitty country music playing in the background. She then proceeded to make herself out to be the victim, each point brought up being shot down by yours truly until she had nothing left. Granted, she had nothing to begin with so it wasn't really a fair fight for her. She actually asked if I would rather she just never have sex. I, feeling generous, responded that I didn't care if she had sex I just didn't want to have to hear it. Really, I don't think that that's really that big of a request.

She then today blamed being her usual stupid, forgetful, last-minute self on it being 'a really bad day' trying to get some sympathy. It didn't work becasue the people who she used the excuse on knew what really happened.

On the bright side, yesterday was an amazing day and only went downhill once I came home. Formal was fantastic, the food was delicious, the company was the best that a person could ask for (for the most part), and my friend was told that I was 'gorgeous' and 'had an absolutely perfect body' by her male best friend who is also her friend-with-benefits. I was both appaled and flattered at that. Appaled becasue it's a little weird since I had only met this guy yesterday and because he and a good friend of mine had a sexual history and he told her all this while she was straddling him; flattered because, well, semi-strangers never tell me things like that. I really only get told that I look nice by my friends and family and sometimes I feel as though they are obligated to say things like that.

Procrastination Station

There are two things that I should be doing right now. Writing this blog is not one of them, and neither is watching Sean Connery in First Knight. Of course, those are the things that I am doing instead of A. writing my writing assignment that was due last Wednesday for peer editing, and B. studying for my pop culture midterm that I have in roughly 10 hours.

I think that it's safe to say that I have officially screwed myself.

The thing that really bothers me is that I don't know why I do it. I know that I should be working on my school work, that I should be getting the best grades that I can, that I should be going to class every day, but still I don't.

It's like all I want to do is sit as a lump and do... nothing. I want to write, cook, sew, paint. There are so many things that I want to to and yet I cannot. It's as if I am destined to have everything grow around me while I disappear into the background.

I wish that I knew how to break this cycle and just be a normal student who studies and gets her work done.

Divided We Fall

As a child from divorced parents, I've heard it all. Every fight, every comment, everything. One would think, that as people who were together for around 3o years that my parents would be able to be more civil to each other at times when there isn't a family death involved.

Apparently I think wrong.

They always fight about the stupidest things, too. And it always seems to be my mother that starts things.

Boy, can she really make a person feel guilty for living. Most of the time, her 'oh woe is me' act is brought upon herself too. Really, it's a wonder that I even have a relationship with her anymore. I just really hope that I never become like she is to her mother - someone who she would rather ignore and sweep under the rug than anything else. Granted, being that way keeps her out of family drama, but still... I find myself not wanting to see my own grandmother because of how my mother feels about her.

Despite everything I still strive for my mother's approval. She makes my life a living hell at times and I fall ass over feet to please her. If she were a boyfriend I would have hired a hit out or something, at the very least I would have dumped his sorry ass, but since it's my mother there's not much I can do other than waiting for her to die. Although she's really too stubborn to die, I think. She will outlive us all.

But now she's all pissed off over income taxes and finances. She doesn't want my dad to claim my tuition... but at the same time she can't claim it and it doesn't do anything for me to claim it... or something. I have to admit that I don't know all the details about taxes, so I'm sort of walking in the dark, but I trust my accountant and what she has to say about it all.

Mostly, I just don't know what to do.

If I allow my dad to claim it, my mother is going to stop paying my rent, paying my tuition, and bailing me out of random financial problems when I'm without a job. She would also make it so that I never have a moment of peace. All of which would end up with me either dropping out of school and becoming a stripper, or staying in school but still becoming a stripper so that I can pay my bills.

Of course, I could still just claim it all myself and hopefully that would pacify her, but I seriously doubt it. And even if it did, it would only be a matter of time before something else sets her off and she's hanging rent and tuition over my head and out of reach unless I comply. She's done it before and she will keep doing it until I'm out from under her thumb - which may never be ever for all I know.

I just really hate this. It makes me feel like I'm not in control of my life and if I wasn't such a fat-girl I would stop eating or something to make myself feel as though I were in control of something. Luckily, or unluckily (whatever), I like food way too much to give it up. If anything, this is going to make me eat more and gain weight that has no place to go. I swear to god that I may just shoot myself of I go up another clothing size. Last year was bad enough in that department.

It all boils down to the fact that I do not know what to do. If I don't claim it, I'm fucked. Plain and simple. If I go behind her back and let my dad claim it, and if she finds out, I'm still fucked. Possibly more than option one. I might even be written out of her will. But my accountant says that I should let my dad claim it, and I trust her judgement. She's not only mine, my dad's and my mother's accountant, but a personal friend of my mother so it's not like she would screw me over.

I don't know what the right thing to do is and there is so much else going on in my life that this piled on top of everything else is the worst thing in the world right now.

Seriously, sometimes I wish that I wasn't as strong a person as I am. And I know that's horrible to think, but at times like these I can't help it.