Ugh

A while ago, Elf had a tantrum at school. Nothing really different about this one, only that it was Dad who went to go calm him down. Elf, characteristically, decides that Dad is EVIL and BAD and MEAN and tells Dad that he hates him, as he got a bloody nose when they were fighting. (Elf decided to leave the house, Dad didn't want him to. Dad restricts Elf, and Elf gets a bloody nose. It wasn't because they were fighting, it was just a normal thing that happened during a fight.)

A teacher overheard and thought that Dad regularly hit Elf, and called the County to report possible child abuse.

So today I got pulled out of class to talk to a social worker.

"What are the disciplinary methods at home?"

"Are either of your parents doing drugs of any kind?"

Ugh. Not fun. Especially since they both just decided that it would be perfectly fine to start smoking again, nothing bad could possibly happen. Oi. I'll talk about that later.

So, anyway, it turns out that Ms. Social Worker also talked to Midget and Elf separately beforehand, and she said she would call Mom and Dad next, but Mom says that she hasn't gotten anything.

Sigh.

My Alarm Clock Got a D-

Remember my missing alarm clock that I lost? It turns out that Dad threw it.

Sometimes I forget to turn off my alarm before going into the shower. I don't try to, I just do. Well, this time Dad was the one to turn it off, but he couldn't find the off button in the dark (he didn't want to turn on the lights and wake up more). So he fiddled with a few dials and threw it across the room.

So my alarm clock got a D- in the helpfulness department.

I however, got my progress report back. A, A-, A-, A-, B, B-.

I was near tears.

I usually get all A's. This time I only got one, the A in PE. PE!!!! That doesn't even count!

To top it all off, I was convinced that I was going to get KILLED when I came home. That I would have to 'take a walk' with dad, one of those that started out innocent but always strayed to the topics that I was either a) not comfortable with or b) didn't have an opinion on.

Then Mom was late picking me up by *cough* 40 minutes *cough*. A lovely way to spend 40 minutes, really it is.

So by the time I get in the car I'm miserable. Then of course I had to tell Mom my grades, and I did, as quickly as I could. When Mom cought on to how dismal my mood was, she reassured me that I wasn't in trouble, and I believe her.

Sigh.

Still wasn't fun though.

EDIT: ARGH!!! I can't get the font sizes to match. It looks weird. Grr.

Here we go again...

Elf attacked me again today. It happens every so often, and always when Mom's gone. This time, she was out picking up Midget from daycare. He was yelling at the computer for 'not being fair' and 'cheating', when really he just wasn't doing very well at the game. Also, I had just gotten the mouse and tablet thrown at my head.

Getting sick of hearing the same two sentences shouted at full volume for ten minutes, I told him to shut up, and that he was being stupid.

His response was to run screaming into the room to attack me. This has happened before, so I know what it feels like to be hit and kicked repeatedly. So I did what I always did: tackled him. He reached up and tried to punch my face, so I bit him, turned him on his side, held his hands, and locked his legs.

By this time we were screaming curse words at each other full volume. He told me to get off, I told him no fucking way in hell because I didn't want to get killed. He said look who's talking, I told him that if he promised to not hurt me I'd let him go. No way in hell, he responded. "Fine. We'll just stay here then." With that I pinned both his knees with one of mine and stuck the other in his gut. I also told him that if he didn't shut the fuck up I was going to punch him in the nose.

He kept trying to hit me, so I grabbed the offending hand and took to twisting his wrist until he put it down. Eventually, with much more cursing, he said that he wouldn't hurt me, just to get my knee off of him. So I did, and he stormed upstairs.

Later he came back downstairs and blamed me for a nosebleed as I was searching for the elusive tablet. Interestingly enough, I never touched his head, at least not that I can remember, since he didn't say much after I threatened to flatten his face. Later Mom came home. They're still talking. I have to admit being worried that he'll try to hit her next.

Idiot sibling.

My day was going good too! I had just started a Step Aerobics class hosted by one of my school's PE teachers, and it was really fun! Then an hour later I have to deal with this shit.

This is why I envy single children. Well, Midget's getting a LOT better, but Elf's behavior is scary. I'm starting to not want him at school any more, he's too dangerous. I know that sounds mean, even traitorous, but I've been in a good number of full out wars with him, and that's probably the only reason I don't have bruises covering most of my legs, torso, arms, and face. He was suspended for two days today, BTW. He pushed another student and kicked another aid. Lovely. Mom told me it was provoked by someone saying that they were winning.

Excuse me? I am teased daily by people I have NEVER MET because they're friends say I'm mean/stuck up/smart ass/etcetera and I have never attacked someone. Ever. Ever ever ever. Mom and Dad say that it's because basically his brain's fucked up and mine's fine, but you know what? I really do not care any more. That's what they say about bullies too, interestingly enough. That's what he's becoming-a bully. And if it's inevitable, why don't they TELL HIM so that he KNOWS to try and COOL IT once and a while. Not telling him only makes it so he doesn't know what to change. And if they have told him? Tell him again until he gets it because obviously something's not gotten through.

I still get sad and embarrassed when I hear that he's acted up again. I'm constantly worried it's going to reach the Middle School and I'm going to have to hear it over and over and over and over again. His existence is becoming threatening and you know what? If he had to hear who I bruised every other day, why I got suspended, who's gossiping about me now? He'd lose it! He doesn't have the embarrassment of living knowing that one day someone's going to say,

"Oh, do you have a sister?"

I'm pretty sure I'm the only child in the group that's had that happen to them. He's affecting the way I spend my free time now. I need my time alone, but I used to at least go downstairs sometimes. Now I hide in my room and wait until he loses it. Then maybe I come downstairs. I don't want to be caught in another fight.

Of course, since I'm hiding, the only person Elf has to beat up is Midget, and she can't defend herself. She gets punched, he marches upstairs saying that it isn't fair that he- the most important person in the world -is being punished. And when he comes downstairs everyone acts like nothing happened. Because really? Midget's becoming a punching bag and everyone knows it. And it's so common that it isn't a big deal any more.

Just great. Just fucking great.

Can I Come Home Now?

I just came home from a sleepover at my friend Nikki's that would've been a hell of a lot more fun if I was able to get back into my own house.

We had stayed up until 2:30 talking about random stuff so we, naturally, slept in. I didn't get a good night's sleep because I slept on the chair and was all stiff in the morning. By 1 (in the afternoon) I was up though, and by 2:30 I wanted to come home.

Mom had left to go pick up Elf from camp AGAIN, which she has had to do for the past four days in a row. This left her on the highway facing an hour there, an hour talking there, and an hour drive back. The front door to the house was locked, but our garage has a side door that you can get to through the backyard. To get into the backyard you have to open a wooden door that's hidden in the fence surrounding the house. I knew I would be fine once I got in, but I needed Dad's permission to get dropped off since Mom wasn't available.

I knew Dad wouldn't like this, it's one of his quirks that if you ask a favor that could be held off he gets PO ed. I still really wanted to go home though, so I risked the lecture that was to come about inconveniencing hosts and called him. I got permission after a few "You know I'm not really happy about this" sentences. This made me indignant because that meant he was going to barge in on me right before bed and give me the long drawn out argument that he so dearly wanted to annoy me with.

I get let off and go to open the fence door but can't because the wood has swelled and is stuck. So now I must go back with Nikki for another hour in August weather until Mom gets home, approximately a hour and a half later. I am not pleased by this in the slightest.

Let us note that if either of my siblings were stuck a search and rescue mission would be activated to 'Protect the Younger' and to 'Avoid Aggravating Their Sensitive Mental Structure'. With me it's 'You're the Eldest, Deal'. I know this is not fair. No, life isn't fair Dad, that's your excuse for dragging me all sorts of places I don't want to go. So let's just clear the air: I DON'T CARE IF IT ISN'T FAIR, I KNOW YOU CAN PROVIDE IT SO DO SO. I KNOW THIS AND YOU DON'T WANT TO ACKNOWLEDGE IT.

Midget (youngest) is too 'fragile' and 'delicate' to risk. Elf is too 'unstable' to out in any sort of harassing treatment. Midget breezes through everything because she's cute, and all the teachers love her for it. So she's a suck up, so what? It I pulled anything near the stunts she does I'd be grounded for a month! I do well in school because I'm intelligent and that's it, I don't need to be cute to go far.

Elf has been diagnosed with a mental health problem, good for him. This gets him the best of everything, teacher of his choice, curriculum modification, therapy, whatever. He only has his best friends around him at every given moment to make sure he doesn't behave like a newborn idiot. I was teased and taunted by a group of seven girls ALL LAST YEAR and I was the one who sat in the passenger seat when Mom broke down because Elf was being an idiot. This happened once a month all last year. I had a problem twice a day with the same group that all of the student knew of because they were such bitches and then I get home and Mom starts sobbing. That's not the time to tell her the reason your jacket has footprints on it, now is it?

Anyway, after getting lunch and spending twenty minutes in the hot sun putting up a tent which I will never see again, I called Mom's cell to see if she was home or still on the road. No reply. Then I called home to see if she was home. No reply. I was let off again to ring the doorbell to see if she was home. No reply.

Since there was no evidence of Mom being home, we started driving to her grandparent's house. If I had gotten there I would've had to stay another hour and a half until I could go home. It was now 5pm. I was near tears as we started driving. I just wanted to go home. It wasn't fair.

Mom then called and said she was home. Finally, something good! Praying she meant 'home' not 'really close to home' I asked again, "So you're home? I rang like twenty seconds ago." What a got was a yell of "Well SORRY I was in my room, couldn't come hear!"

Gee thanks Mom, that's really what I wanted to hear after being stuck somewhere I didn't want to be for three hours. That really makes my day.

FINALLY getting home, TWO HOURS AND FORTY-FIVE MINUTES AFTER I WANTED TO I started a summary of my experiences she started yelling at me again.

"You know what, I'm sorry! I know I don't sound like I'm sorry (got that right) but I am! I was on the phone when you first called (talking about Elf's ever-so-important meltdown I bet) and i called (goes on ranting for the next two minutes)"

I am now making a point to say to my parents, who will eventually read this I know, not to kill me because I wrote this. I wrote this so I wouldn't start screaming at you at dinner that I'm underappreciated. I wrote this so I wouldn't start crying at randomly like I almost did three times during my typing of this. Dad, I know you're going to lecture me, try not to make it so circular, OK? I get it the first time.

Now that I am in really hot water for writing what I think, I will sign off and wait for the confrontation to come. Oh, goody.

Saul

Mom has posted much on my little brother Saul, who was student-teacher bullied in school.

I am going to swear here, those of faint heart do not read this post.

Read my mom's posts about Saul to understand my anger better, they're under 'Kidlets'. Link to the blog's at the bottom of page.

For those who haven't her posts read yet, you will not understand.

To arms then.




The bitch who hurt my brother is to die by burning in Neo's Paradise at 11:00 pm tonight. In the real world nothing will be done about it, though they will try, because they tried with the student-student bullying and that didn't work either. She will be held possibly in contempt but very likely not because Mom will not be able to talk the the idiots and reason with them and start crying in the car and I will say she'll get through it while silently agreeing.

Seriously, I'm not feeling too happy now. Those of faint hearts STOP, and since the faint-hearted usually are the ones who flame excellent works of art because they have no other line of defense.


That bitch is giving my little brother nightmares. She is to die. The best I can hope for in the real world is Her to be Fired, but then she will get the retirement benefits.


She will die.

Sick Croaker

From the beginning:



I got four frogs from a baby sitter (long story) and named them after various Egyptian mythological figures. Horus (the fourth frog) died around 6 months later. I cried for a day, got Nikki to cheer me up, and got over it.



Today I check in on the frogs to see that Osiris (frog #2) was sitting under a leaf. You know when light passes through something and hits a white object it turns the color of what the light passed through? Well, Osiris was green.



All of my frogs, when healthy, are various shades of brown.



Let us also say that when Horus died, he was a sickly pale white-green for about three days.



I flat out panicked. when I moved the leaf to see if Osiris was dead, he moved so little I couldn't tell. Then he jumped and I was able to catch him. He acted as active as usual, accept that he was white. His beautiful splotches and stripes had faded to almost nothing and his eyeshadow was a light brown when it's supposed to be black.



I called Mom to tell her to get food (since by my estimate we hadn't fed them in around two weeks when there supposed to be fed every 3-5 days) for him, but the connection screwed up.



You know that panic you get when you go for help and you have to wait, even if it's only for a little while? Ok, that's what I got.

I met Mom in the garage when she came home with pizza. I told her what happened and almost immediately went right back out to get crickets.

That's where she is now, and I'm sitting here waiting.

Thanks Mom.

Art Camp

Mom signed me up for a great camp at California Collage of Art (CCA) these next two weeks, two hour course in Computer Art followed by a two hour course in Drawing From Life-Costumed Models.

Right now in Comp. Art we're doing a still photo movie (like a slideshow that tells a story). Erm, OK, that's not what I was signed up for. My teacher, Katina, doesn't even know how to use a tablet for Photoshop, the two things I signed up to learn about.

Errrrmmmmmm.......

Drawing From Life looks like more fun, but the teacher rambles a bit and doesn't explain his assignments well. I want to practice my sketching, but he's having us do contour drawing, which is (basically) drawing the line right the first time. Teaching this doesn't make any sense to me, because with any picture you start with a sketch and then go over your lines. You don't need to practice immedeate perfection because that's not what you're shooting for.

The kids there are nice, but I feel threatened that they might be better than I am at the style that I do, because that's my comfort zone, the one Field I know I'll always be better in. Those people on Deviant Art, all the people I say 'Wow, that's AMAZING!!!! I could NEVER be that good' deserve it, and (at least I think so from experience) want and need to hear that from another (i think) decent-good artist. And if I ever meet them, we'll chat about art and talk about Photoshop shortcuts, horror stories of computer crashes ruining all our hard work, and techniques.

But these soon-to-be-high schoolers, these kids who are taking these courses because they've done everything else, they don't critique. Oh, no they don't. They are not allowed to comment on my field. Commenting on my slideshow, I could care less!! I don't worry about that, it's not My Field, just like Cubism isn't My Field. But you flame my work, what I care about, the only thing I wasn't teased about by Kia and her gang only because it didn't have any flaws that they could find, You Will Die. I don't like that feeling, that small, nervous, violence, the blabbing about nothing, the interrupting, and the distraction that goes with it. I loath that feeling!

And I really don't want to tell Mom about all this because she'll be disappointed and then I'll feel guilty and say that "I really didn't mean all that, I was just kinda tired" and she'll say OK and I'll spend two hours of the night wincing about how I posted all this. Sigh.