backyard crowing



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manslaughter

I am freaking out and crying.

I hate my dad sometimes, like tonight, when he put yet another financial burden on me. Apparently now I have to buy my own bed, and he said the day we bought it that we would both pay a part. We just never said how much I'd cover.

I am so frustrated. If I had known I was paying for part of it--for even ALL of it, damnit, then I would have chosen a slightly cheaper one. I certainly didn't go with the best of the beds at Ikea, but I didn't buy the $56 bed, either. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I have fucking -$25 in my debit account and I am in debt $2,200 on my credit card. I really want to die right about now.

I hate him. I hate that he's trying to manipulate me into paying for this thing. Mom insisted to me over the phone that he get me a bed (ON HIM!), so when I mentioned to him that I had looked at some at Ikea, he suggested we go. And since we were there, I jumped on the opportunity to get a bed, because he's so hard to get anywhere if I ask him to do something.

There are definitely times when I wish they were together so she could fight for me. I hate him, I really do.

He said he'd cover my laundry and gas money, but he only gives me that if I ask him to, and only then, begrudgingly. The rest of the time he goes on and on about how he has oh so many money problems, and even after the house is sold, he'll just have paid off his debt, he won't have any to spare. So he trains me to feel bad for him, to not ask him for anything. What an asshole.

I stress out every time I buy something with my over-the-limit debit card. It's a nightmare. I think about what I'd do if it was rejected, and if I could gracefully bow out of the restaurant or bookstore, if the purchase could easily be put back on a shelf or if it would be a meal in the trashcan, or an employee's belly. I imagine how terrible and yet thankful I would feel if they just gave me the meal...

And today I got lost and onto a toll road. I had to pay two tolls of 50 cents apiece, and I was freaking out. I don't even know if I have change anymore. Fortunately today I had a dollar.

On top of that, I now have to pay for parking

The root of the problem is my dad's assholery, and the fact that I can't face manager after manager telling me I'm not good enough to flip burgers or stock shit. I try my utmost during interviews and in all forms, but still, nothing. And my mother never believes that I try. So when you've got the whole world against you, and you want so much to have a job, and the one person who should be supporting you thinks you're full of shit, why live?

I can't face the rejection. That's why I jumped at the job I'm at now--it was the easiest thing to get ever. I had one interview and I was in.

Abbie told me one day a long time ago that some study showed that "fat women with a college degree make less than thin women without one." She was about to tell me this, but then said, "no, you wouldn't want to know." So then I shrugged it off and asked her to tell me anyway, because after all, she and I are golden. Then she told me...and I fell silent. I just didn't know what to say. Obviously she thinks I'm fat, otherwise she wouldn't have said I didn't want to hear it. We talked for several hours that night, so by the end of that conversation, we were golden again. I think we talked so long because she wanted me to get past it, to talk about anything and everything else, so it wouldn't be what I'd remember about her. But I'll never forget it.

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And remember kids, you can't have manslaughter without laughter!

- thursday, july 10, 2008
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