I truly am the hated child.

The biggest mistake that I've ever made is cheating on a stupid science test in eighth grade.  That is the only time my parents ever got a call home from school in my entire 17.5 years of life.  Yet, somehow, everything I do seems to be wrong to them.  Anytime I open my mouth, I am wrong, and I anger them.

Today's reason for hating me?  I brought up an article on Yahoo about how Europe thinks Obama's health plan is long overdue.  My parents are both big Obama haters, and they swear everyone in Europe laughs at the US for having a black man lead their nation and that we will be communists soon.  Well, anyway, I mentioned the article and my father exploded at me, like literally, he just started yelling!  Even my mom asked him why he started yelling.

His rationalization? "Because she's talking out of her ass"  All I had said was 'Did you read that article? If Obama wasn't elected, we'd never see universal healthcare' and he started screaming about communism and how, if he wanted communism, he would have stayed in Poland.

Meanwhile, my mother was trying to calm him down, but I said 'No, forget it.  I'm the hated child, I know.' and he had the audacity to try to apologize and hug me as I walked by him.  Um, no.


College, please take me away now.

I am really not Catholic

Well, this weekend, I slept over my best friend's house.  She lives about half hour away, so whenever I go over, it ends up in a sleepover.  Usually, we don't go to church. Hell, I never go to church unless forced, but my brother had the bright idea of making me his sponsor for his confirmation. FML.  My mom told my friend's mom to make sure I went to church, so I had to spend an hour listening to most ridiculous nonsense ever.  Usually, I go to Polish mass, but their church is only in English, so I finally understood it.  And I hated it.

It was so STUPID.  And CLOSE MINDED.  It was about sinning and keeping our spiritual self healthy, and how confession is good for the soul.  Well, fuck off, bitch, because with the Catholic faith, every little damn thing is a sin, and I refuse to live with guilt.

The priest spoke of how people who confess often remember all of their sins because they pay mind to them, while those who confess every couple of years or so tend to think they haven't really sinned because they don't pay attention to their sins.  Of course.  Everything is a sin.  If I had to write down any time I sinned, there wouldn't be enough paper for anyone in the world.

Thoughts are sins!  I AM SORRY IF I GET ANGRY AND THINK MEAN THOUGHTS.  I hate this religion so much.  So so much.  I will be my brother's sponsor, but as soon as I am 18, my religion is undecided.  Or really, I just won't have one.  I don't want one.

Religion is archaic.  It was created to explain things people couldn't understand.  I'm sorry, but we have this wonderful thing called 'science' now.   It makes sense and explains things well, unlike religion.  Sorry, but I can't blindly follow contradictions and impossible phenomena.

UGH.

So my mother just spent a good 20 minutes trying to get into her bank account online, all the while yelling at me whenever it did anything stupid and about how stupid it was and just STUPIDITY. As if yelling at me would make anything better.  WTF Mother... if I ever even take the slightest bit of attitude at you because I'm mad at something else, you get on my case!  But you just spent 20 minutes YELLING AT ME FOR NO REASON.

Anywayyy, I got to see my old BFF today... we spent a couple of hours at the mall and I found shoes for prom! For only 30 bucks!  Not bad, not bad at all! :)   I will go back and buy them with my mother.

However, today, I also got my research paper for English... and it is 60% of my damn grade for the marking period.  Oh Lord, I just saw that Valedictorian spot slip through my fingers when I read that.  And I have to read a stupid book for this nonsense.  NONSENSE, I TELL YOU.

I will be going to track in about an hour and a half, yay :)  I love it! I love throwing discus lol

pain is weakness leaving the body

If pain really is weakness leaving the body, my Lord, was I a weak, weak person before.  Track started on Monday, and LORD LORD LORD, my calves have never hurt like this before!  Soccer would make my thighs sore and achy but never my calves!  Now I just have sore legs altogether. 

The calves are the worst though, because I didn't realize just how much of a calf stretch it is to just stand up.  One night, I woke up and had to go to the bathroom.  I tried to stand up, only to fall back down onto my bed before my legs even straightened all the way. 

Mornings are especially the worst because I have to get up and go, and after eight hours of not moving, my muscles seem to be overloaded with the movement. 

My legs are better today, thank God, but now my wrist seems to have developed some kind of pain.  I blame it on the discus (I throw--I don't do that running nonsense lol)

Well, I'm going to get off the Internet now.  It's time to study for AP Psych.

There he goes again.

When i visit my grandma's grave, i feel nothing, not because i don't care, but because i don't feel her there. I feel her at home, in my room, in her old room, in the kitchen, in the living room... I feel her there because my memories of her are there. I feel her in church, not because i am a believer of my family's faith--I'm not, but because many childhood Sundays were spent with her there.  i don't make the sign of the cross at her grave because i feel like I'm lying. I believe in her spirit, not the holy trinity, and her spirit is not there where she's buried, it is home, where she belongs.

It really angered me that my father assumed that because I didn't do a silly Catholic gesture that I was disrespecting my grandmother.

Father, dearest, STFU & GTFO

Last night, my father started yelling and complaining about the pile of laundry by the basement door and the random clothes on chairs in the living room.

As he was still saying that 'they better all be gone by the time I get home from work tomorrow!', he placed a his sweatshirt on the computer chair, so I called him out on it.

What was his response?

The immature brat of a man ignored that he was, himself, making a mess and started yelling about my room.

Yeah, okay, nice thing to teach your kids: don't address your problems, just pick out somebody else's.  This is why my baby brother is a brat.

Oh superior being, why do I procrastinate?

I have to finish reading Murder in the Cathedral, write a bio on John Donne, outline a 20 page psych module, and I have yet to work out yet.  I NEED TO WORK OUT.

And I was having an okay day until my dad asked whether the dress fit yet.  I don't mind that he asked, I mind the tone that he asked in and the fact that he laughed.  Thanks asshole, for making me seem like a fat pig.  The dress isn't even that small on me.  The only part that didn't zipper was the very top and that's because there's elastic there and it's harder to zipper, not just because I'm fat, which I didn't think I was until his jerkface said something. 

Thanks, Daddy, really, I appreciate it.