*growl*

Dec. 27th, 2002 09:12 pm
amezri: (...strung-out)
[personal profile] amezri
Idiot. Complete and utter idiot. ::stabs him with a pointy stick:: When you wash the dishes, do you think you can wash all the dishes and not leave a knife and a spoon behind you?! Or how abut when I say I'm not hungry, you don't cook for me and then make me eat shite I've told you a million times that I hate. Feckin' twit.

If I have to hear one more comment about our monetary situation, someone may need to call an ambulance to haul his ass to the hospital. During our traumatizing lovely trip to the airport this afternoon, all I heard was how we've spent $250,000 this year and my mother doesn't seem to care about it and he doesn't make that much money. Yeah, no shit you don't make that much money. You work for 4 hours a day, 3 days a week and the rest of the time you sit on your ass and buy stupid shit like a hideous $600 piece of stone and a $700 watch you don't even feckin' wear. Let's not even mention the thousands he's sunk into his "home renovation" projects (the fucktard can't even paint a damn wall properly or grout friggin bathroom tiles) or the loads of money he's spent on eBay. Yeah, sure. It's all my mother. Right. How blind of me.

My mom's off to Taiwan for two weeks and I can't even give her a proper goodbye because I'm trying not to cry. No, it's not like that. My eyes are tearing up from the sheer effort of not jumping across the seat and strangling him to death. He just couldn't let it go. No. He had to make it all about poor him. I said very little at first - didn't trust myself to not say anything inflammatory - but I kind of lost it. I told him that if we're having such problems maybe he should stop spending money on ugly, useless $600 rocks and $700 watches, stop bidding for things on eBay that he keeps making my brother pay for (well, with his credit card, but he can't do any of the actual paying himself. Apparently.) and gee, thank god I didn't go to a more expensive school because we'd be living on the damn street. Then he said some other inane shit to me and I had it. I don't know if he was listening - he's usually not - but I told him that I hate living in this house. I hate coming home and if I could I would rather stay in Oneonta and freeze to death on the street than come home because this high-stress household is driving me insane. Then the bastard says to me: "Why don't you?" Fucker. Told him I don't know; I thought maybe it would be better (because you wouldn't be fucking home). Then he says he's "trying." Yeah, try harder, I told him. Then he tells me that in May I'll be graduating and I can get a job and move out and have my own life - if I can get a job at all. What the hell is that supposed to mean? After all these years the asshole still thinks I'm studying... I don't know what the hell he thinks I'm studying. He thinks I'm going to be a starving artist or some shit. Whatever. He can go and think whatever the hell he wants to think.

I've seriously gotten to the point where everytime I see him I want to either strangle him or beat him to death with a blunt object. You know in "Sanctuary" where Faith keeps having these flashes of killing Angel? Umm... yeah, that's kind of happening to me. Been happening the last two days. I'm sure that's not particularly healthy.

It it Thursday yet? Because I don't think I can take much more.

Date: 2002-12-28 02:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] shimmiwyld.livejournal.com
Have you seen 'Analyze this'. Crystal tells De Niro to punch a pillow... De Niro pulls out a gun and fills it full of bullets. Take that as a suggestion. Then move onto harder things. Like, a lounge chair or something. This will sound weird (and a little psychotic on my part since I'm able to tell you this) but something that feels close to hitting a real body always works. Better go, the men in white suits are here.

Date: 2002-12-28 05:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] amezri.livejournal.com
Oooh.. gun shooting...

*ahem*

Nah, I know exactly what you mean. I used to work through the anger by snapping plastic coathangers into little pieces.

Date: 2003-01-05 10:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leyenn.livejournal.com
That sounds like an insanely good idea... the coathangers, I mean... *ahem* Having just spent two weeks in my parents' house, I sympathise immensely. Mine are certainly not as bad as yours, but aside from the intensity of it all, we seem eeriely similar. :(

*must purchase for herself a punch bag*

You could always take up archery with little pictures of him on the targets. A little elvish fun and a little faux-father-murdering all in one. ^__^ Trust me, I've thought of doing it more than once...

Date: 2002-12-28 10:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] buhfly.livejournal.com

It doesn't help everybody, but I find that violent physical exertion at least leaves me able to ignore stupid people. *cough*mymother*cough* Like a punching bag. If you go insane at it, you might not have as much of a desire to strangle him.

Date: 2002-12-28 05:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] amezri.livejournal.com
What I wouldn't give for a human volunteer punching bag...

Re:

Date: 2002-12-28 05:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] buhfly.livejournal.com
*snicker*

Date: 2002-12-28 02:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] frankieteardrop.livejournal.com
best of luck and strength to you darling...

Date: 2002-12-28 05:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] amezri.livejournal.com
Thanks. I'll get by. Just hoping no one dies in the process.

Date: 2002-12-28 05:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] julietlaw.livejournal.com
Thursday will come... sooner or later.

Hope you're already feeling a little better.

*hugs*

Juliet

Date: 2002-12-28 05:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] amezri.livejournal.com
*hugs* Thanks, sweetie. I know. It's only.. erk... 5 more days.

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