orcein

Ho, okay. I feel much better now. ^^;;

Here's the deal of what was REALLY going on. I had seen the deal as Ryan, Jake, and I would be staying here, doing our own thing, under the expectation that we'd kind of trickle things in from storage during the week, until Saturday (tomorrow-ish... kind of... maybe later today) when a whole bunch of people from our church were gonna come and help us move in, at least clearing out the one storage unit.

So then mom starts mandating what we need to move in -- HER things -- and my perception is that she was sitting out there in the comfort of her folks' place, telling us, the slave labor, what to do to move into HER house. And I just got really pissed. Maybe I was hungry, too. I dunno. But we ate, and I explained my position to Ryan and Jake, and they agreed that it was a logical position, and I talked to Dad, which was nice since he's the sane one in their relationship... ^_^

I feel better.
--Ben

*sigh* We got our new house finally, with air conditioning, until it broke yesterday. In any case, it's just been myself and my two brothers here the last week (almost). Mom has visited TWICE (count it TWICE) since monday, excepting today. The ONLY thing we've heard from her is "Well, get started getting things from the storage units" and "can you move any furniture in" (on the day we got the fucking carpets shampood, and so no, of course we can't get furniture moved in, even if it WEREN'T at the fucking BACK of the damned storage unit!!), "try to get my bed out of the units".

So I say, Mom, FUCK YOU! Get your goddamned own fucking bed out of the storage unit! I'm not your fucking slave! If you want things done over here -- things which are important to you, like YOUR bed, YOUR furniture, YOUR kitchen shit, FUCKING MOVE IT YOURSELF!!! I am NOT your personal slave! I've been here, I've been moving things in, trying not to just PILE shit ALL over the fucking place, so that there can be SOME semblance of order and placement for things. YOU on the other hand, have been at your PARENTS' house, where you have a SOFT BED, and FOOD, and everything. I've been sleeping on the damn floor! This is not your home. Maybe you own the house, but fuck it, you haven't had the balls, or the drive or ANYTHING to come the hell over here MORE THAN TWICE and do SHIT here. So don't fucking tell me what to do like you LIVE here. You don't. NONE of your personal stuff is here. NONE of it. You have no CLOTHES here. You do not sleep here. I cannot see you as living here right now, and that grants you NO privelege to tell me what to move and what NOT to move from the storage unit.

Okay, so ONE of the units has to be emptied sooner? WHEN?!?!? TELL me WHEN the fuck I have to empty it, and it'll be EMPTY BY THEN! Don't just fucking tell me to empty it first, like it's all gonna get done, 'cause I'll be DAMNED if I make the same mistake of just piling all our shit around like last time, 'cause last time we had more room, and it took us a whole fucking YEAR before we were really SITUATED, and now we have MORE shit, and LESS room, and I'm gonna be LEAVING in a year!

And the worst part is I can't even fucking TELL her this, because she'd get all emotional, and have to go back to fucking therapy, because she thinks she has problems, and she has no self esteem. You know what would build her self esteem? Not being so damned SEDENTARY! Ride a fucking bike! COME the HELL OVER here and play DDR, which YOU payed for, but have yet to even SERIOUSLY try out! Go for a fucking WALK around the NEW NEIGHBORHOOD! Damn! Get some blood flowing, raise your endorphine level, grow some metabolism, stop eating more than you need to! THEN, maybe you'll gain som self esteem... THEN maybe you'll have more energy... THEN maybe you won't think you're too damn old to sleep on the floor, like you're too good for those of us over here TRYING to be a family in the new house, while you lie back and say "Oh, well, I have a nice fucking bed over here and my parents' house, so you all can do all the work while I'm at work, and studying, and not there to even OBSERVE what you've done to my house."

Fuck that.

I need to get the hell away from this. It's fucking BUILDING up in me, and I just need to GET THE HELL AWAY!

Anyway, time to pop breakers, so in this rant goes, and off my computer goes.

Later,
--Ben

There's more!

Ryan's got this whole dumb girlfriend, too! She lives in MEXICO! >.<

He's flying out there this summer to meet her, and (most likely) propose. Mormons get married REAL fast, FWIW, so that's not the weird part. The weird part is that HE'S NEVER MET HER IN PERSON!!! Gah! What the hell?!? I meet girls all the time, and they either don't want to date me, or they're REALLY f*cked up, and I find out later! What the hell? He just meets some bimbo on the internet, and next thing you know he's talking about getting MARRIED?!? Damn. My life just... SUCKS. Plus, all the cool girls I meet are not generally the kind to WANT to hold out on sex until they're married, which means that EVENTUALLY, we're gonna have problems. -.-;;; Have I mentioned that my life sucks yet?

Anyway, then there's this while "he can't afford an engagement ring" business, so Mom paid to have HER old engagement ring refitted for this Mexican floozy (I shouldn't say that, she's probably a very nice young lady), which came from DAD'S GRANDMOTHER, and is GIVING it to Ryan. Does she hold out for the kid WITHOUT a job? Or the one only making 6.50 an hour? No, she gives it to the guy making TEN something an hour, who just hasn't managed his finances well, so he can't afford a ring. THAT pisses me off. The guy makes $200 a week, and he hasn't saved up enough in the last YEAR to buy a damn ring and ticket to Mexico? What the f*ck?

Anyway, I'm pissed off partly 'cause I figured _I'D_ be the first, y'know, since I've been the one DATING more girls, MEETING more girls. The story of my life goes something like this:

"In the beginning, there was Ryan. Then mom and dad had sex and I came along shortly thereafter. I worshipped Ryan, until he left me for TWO YEARS to be a missionary. I tried that, but found out it wasn't for me. I realized that my life needed a different direction from his. Thereafter, I tried new things, I worked hard to get to new places and fit in. After I get in somewhere, Ryan says 'hey that looks like fun' and joins me, riding my ticket or just finding a free one, and welcomes himself with no problems or awkwardness." Here again he has done it. I do SO much -- getting girlfriends, playing the field, etc... I find CRAP. He HAPPENS to put his name up on an LDS (mormon) penpal service, and she finds him, they're in love, blah blah blah.

Can I go somewhere that he WON'T follow me? Huh? Damn.

--Ben