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Mar. 12th, 2005 08:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
here_inmyheadrtjbeklyjenj Dammit! I was trying to send an Mp3 to a friend, but no. Semagic decided to be stupid, and tried to link me to my friend's list... on the same browser sending the file. And knowing how stupidly slow my Net connection is here, I had to start all over again. Oh goodie! The song she tried to send me outdated before I could download, too. Fuck.
Other issues aside, my parents are morons.
To my mom, it's the end of the world if her shirt gets a few bleach spots on it. I'm not talking about large splots or anything... like, little itty bitty blots you can easily cover up by tucking your shirt in or something if you're unable to get the stains out. She's a complete pessimist.She whines on and on like we dont't have enough food or clothes for the family, (even when the fridge is bloated with food and the fact I have something like ten pairs of jeans) and does she do anything to set things right? Oh no, she just sits there believing it's hopeless cries some more. Mentally ill or not, I hate that attitude in another person. At least get a grip on yourself, if you're supposedly "getting better" and taking "prescribed" meds.
All I have to do is mention some itty bitty casual thing involving my mom, and my dad has to go in those meaningless "Your mother is getting better" or going on about what a great and kind-hearted person she is when five minutes later, he's screaming at her, telling her to leave him alone and that he refuses to listen to her, even a few times telling her he can't stand to be around her when she's like this, telling her to shut up ten trillion times. Yeah, way to go, Dad.
You'd think a trip to the botanical gardens and a movie would help. But no... it was like they were zombies, they weren't really there. We saw "Robots", (Which I liked. Robin Williams = Priceless) and Dad fell asleep, Mom might as well be staring into space, and I have no idea what my brother's been thinking. What. The. Hell. As if they ignored me unless it was something that interested them.
Yeah, I feel so awesome.
Other issues aside, my parents are morons.
To my mom, it's the end of the world if her shirt gets a few bleach spots on it. I'm not talking about large splots or anything... like, little itty bitty blots you can easily cover up by tucking your shirt in or something if you're unable to get the stains out. She's a complete pessimist.She whines on and on like we dont't have enough food or clothes for the family, (even when the fridge is bloated with food and the fact I have something like ten pairs of jeans) and does she do anything to set things right? Oh no, she just sits there believing it's hopeless cries some more. Mentally ill or not, I hate that attitude in another person. At least get a grip on yourself, if you're supposedly "getting better" and taking "prescribed" meds.
All I have to do is mention some itty bitty casual thing involving my mom, and my dad has to go in those meaningless "Your mother is getting better" or going on about what a great and kind-hearted person she is when five minutes later, he's screaming at her, telling her to leave him alone and that he refuses to listen to her, even a few times telling her he can't stand to be around her when she's like this, telling her to shut up ten trillion times. Yeah, way to go, Dad.
You'd think a trip to the botanical gardens and a movie would help. But no... it was like they were zombies, they weren't really there. We saw "Robots", (Which I liked. Robin Williams = Priceless) and Dad fell asleep, Mom might as well be staring into space, and I have no idea what my brother's been thinking. What. The. Hell. As if they ignored me unless it was something that interested them.
Yeah, I feel so awesome.
