All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Just when I thought my step mother and I were going to turn a new leaf and get along, she became the antichrist yet again.
My Aunt has moved away with my cousin Jacob. And it’s killing me, I tell you. Totally killing me. He’s the most adorable little boy and I love him like he’s my brother and now he’s thousands of miles away in Arizona with his evil grandmother and his mother. I’m not dealing well with the whole thing anyway.
So, when the step monster said it was time to pack up Chanel’s room, it made me sad and a little….raw? Is that the description? You know, what I mean? Like when you have a really tender scab on her leg and it’s just starting to heal and then, dang it, you rip it off, it hurts like heck and it has to start healing all over. That was my heart in that room of boxes.
I saw lots of little treasures. She saw stuff. Yanking things out and carelessly tossing school pictures that Chanel had paid for, I yelped and tried to save them. And, what did I get? The look of evil step mommy. You’d think I’d just yanked a handful of her hair out and attempted to knit a noose or something.
After that it was back to the warzone. I didn’t really want to pack boxes anyway because I was sick and was supposed to be resting. Her and my dad had other plans. I told them I didn’t want to pack. If I wanted to pack I’d head back to my mom’s house and pack some of her boxes. We are looking at an impending move from our house because she has cancer and we’re going to lose the house. Which really sucks because I just got my room painted and decorated the way I wanted and I love that house. I hate that. Cancer sucks. Health insurance and bills suck. Grown-ups suck.
My step monster said if I wanted a different cell phone, I’d have to buy it myself. So, I worked my hind end off and got a four on my PAWS to earn money (a deal my mom made with me years ago). I got enough to buy the NV touch I have been drooling over. I was so proud of it. Double checked the price and gave her the money I fried my brain to earn and….she “forgot” to order my phone and missed the sale. Now, it’s twice the price and she magically can’t order it. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! So her magical solution was the fabulous buy one get another free offer of a phone that I didn’t want and hate so that she could get a free phone that I get to pay for. Can you say selfish? I can.
Then the whole sober thing. My dad had to go and get his tail light fixed and she brought up the fact that last winter he was drinking and messed up his grill, and blah, blah, blah. Newsflash lady, the guy who is still going through intensive rehab doesn’t need you nagging at him. Put a cork in it.
And I’m going to kick her stupid dog. Her big ugly dog tried to fight my poor puppy for it’s food and of course it was my fault. Why? Because I am an evil, irresponsible, attitude giving, snotty brat. No, really, ask her and she’ll tell you all about it.
So now I am back at my mom’s house. And I actually get a break from step monster number two (or my step father, as he is commonly called). He is working at the Sugar Beet factory and is gone every night. It is heavenly during this shift part because frankly, I never have to worry about getting along with him, because I don’t have to see him. It will be like a vacation.
While I was stressed last week, I snuck out of the house and went to visit the g-ma down the street. I use grandma to vent to a lot. It helps get things out. She has some weird ideas about some things and she said something that really upset and frankly ticked me off. We were talking about how my cousins live with her all summer long and maybe I should come and do that too. She then informed me that all the make-up “crap” I wear would be the first thing to go because it is going to the reason I get myself raped because I look “too” old. The only reason girls wear makeup is because they are trying to be whores. Geez, thanks. Here I’ve spent years learning about self-esteem and doing things to help yourself feel good about you. So, does that mean she’s calling my mom a whore? That’s a whole different thought line that makes me even crankier. Sometimes she needs to think before she opens her mouth. I know she has a point that some girls are going for that whorish look—I am not aiming that direction.
Now, this may sound terribly catty, but speaking of whorish behavior…I think a lot of middle school kids are disgusting. Take student A. Who had a whole bunch of other 7,8,9 grade kids at her house. (With parents RIGHT there.) We got to hear about her doing certain icky acts to one of the boys in front of everyone else. Ewwwwwww. Foul! Please, Lord, remove the horrible visualizations from my head. Like these children need to even be thinking about doing things like that. My aunt had a baby at 14. They should experience a night of sick baby puking up all over you and sleepless crankiness before they should be allowed to touch. Put little shock collars on them like the dogs or something. And…parents. SUPERVISE your kids. Yuck. My mom would have kicked the holy living everything out of me had she even suspected that was going on. But she would have known it was going on because she would have had her noisy little self right in the middle of the group already. Which part of me says, Geez mom, leave me alone. But the part says…thanks, mommy.
Okay, this is the venting session of the universe. And I feel…pretty good. Cleansed and refreshed. Until tomorrow, at least….