College has so far been a test in every quality I lack.
I believe this is being done for a higher purpose, but that still doesn't help the ill will that inevitably follows when you are once again being forced to be a doormat, or simply to lazy to stand up for one's self. I believe I'm a nice mixture of the two, confrontation takes to much energy, but simply allowing it happen pisses me off to the nth degree. But I digress...
It's only been two weeks, today being the start of the third. I'm ready to destroy something, I'm to the point where if a confrontation happens I'm not going to back down from it. I may regret the consequences, but there's got to be a line somewhere, right?
My roommate, my darling new roommate, seems to believe the world revolves around her wants and needs. Nevermind that I may have feelings, nevermind that I can almost guarantee my financial situation is a shitload worse than yours, hon. Let me tell you a little thing about life: one of these days your going to be stuck with someone that ten or so at night will tell you STFU and smash your phone into the wall, one of these days your going to be stuck with someone that could care less about your complete and utter bullshit of a lifestory because somebody turned up the melodrama way way up and nobody's ever bothered to turn it back down for you. I have a lovely little tidbit to share: no one gives a rat's ass about your relationship issues or lack thereof. No one. Not me, not anyone else. We pretend we're listening only so that when you do realize that you're annoying us, and get mad at us for it: you're going to feel like a complete and utter douchebag when you decide to get "justice."
I get you had a hard childhood, really, I had one too. And when someone decides that sucky childhood are the topic for the day, I will contribute simply because I want everyone to see that I may have a sob story, but I don't want your fucking pity. I don't want to learn lessons via others' stories.
There's a lesson here to be learned too, sweetheart: people are full of crap. That doesn't exclude me or you, but I'm able to admit it. Just because you've read a couple books doesn't make an expert, just because you have a boyfriend doesn't make you the all-knowing councilor of successful and unsuccessful relationships. It simply means your still thinking that this is highschool. Because back in highschool people cared, people cared because they knew everyone involved in these elaborate dramas we create to keep ourselves entertained and otherwise engaged from dwelling on the total worthlessness of everything we do.
I'm ranting because I'm pissed. Because you have the audacity, the gall, to tell me that you don't like the truth and would you please delete from the public view? Listen, honey, I did as you asked because I've gotta live with you for God only knows how much longer, and I don't want to deal with your immature cold shoulders and icy glances. It's cold enough with AC on as it is.
You locked me out, you should've known I wasn't back yet, I bet you even saw my purse and thought to yourself: oh, I bet she's still in the shower. Even if you somehow simply forgot about all the evidence that I'd left to make sure you knew I hadn't disappeared yet, and locked it on accident, you could've gone back an unlocked it. No, this morning my being late to class was your fault, my having to wander around the dorm in nothing but an effing towel was your fault. You asked, I told, and suddenly knowing that my misfortune was your fault, without apologizing profusely (which it is so totally too late for) to me for being a total bitch about every little thing from the AC to food to boys to my own opinions about the world. You're a heathen, and yes, you do dress like a hooker, I'm just nice. Put a fucking jacket on and grab a blanket, maybe if you actually wore clothes you wouldn't be so cold all the time?!
I'm sitting here writing this in all my foul-mouthed glory because I know that if I say one (I'm starting to feel bad about dropping the f-bomb so much) word about it, you're going to glare at me and stick your nose in the air and decide that I'm just all sorts of ridiculous, me and my Southern ways.
You won't manipulate me, the hell I'm going to let you decide who my friends are and who I can hang out with. You may be possessive, but I'm a whole lot more determined. I'd like to live out the rest of my freshmen year here in a civil and peaceful way, no wars, no tears, no hurt feelings, no gutting with a wooden spoon. But I swear, if you keep it up, darling, we're gonna have some issues, and I'm going to be the one that wins this battle.
So suck it up, and get over yourself.
Panda out.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
In Which Pandas Wield Axes--Sharp Ones
I'm angry. Angrier than I've been in awhile.
And hurt.
And it's not fair.
And if this comes to pass...to be perfectly blunt, I'm not entirely sure how I'll be handling it.
In the words of Tycho Braye: I'll be playing this by ear.
I had to hear second-hand, and that bothers me to no end.
But what really bothers me is that this doesn't even come close to being okay.
Needless to say, I want to explode, scream, rant, and rave.
But I can't.
Not because I don't want to get in trouble--because I could do the above.
I have permission. However, I lack the apathy it would take to yell at my favorite person in the whole wide world.
And so: I'm screwed.
And I'll probably end up saying and doing something I'm going to regret.
Which already up the ante on my endless amounts of mild social anxiety--because people are stupid, and there comes a point where I tire greatly of their antics. I downright frown upon their shenanigans.
The point is, however, that life just got a hell of a lot worse.
...and I may or may not be brewing a minor hatred for the starter of this metaphorical fire(if it keeps up, it'll be an effing inferno, babe).
(for my own sanity, I'm leaving the entire subject of prom out of this, for now, at least).
Panda out.
P.S. Now that you've finished reading my rant of fury: go read Girl Genius by Phil and Kaja Foglio. It's amazing.
CLICK HERE!
And hurt.
And it's not fair.
And if this comes to pass...to be perfectly blunt, I'm not entirely sure how I'll be handling it.
In the words of Tycho Braye: I'll be playing this by ear.
I had to hear second-hand, and that bothers me to no end.
But what really bothers me is that this doesn't even come close to being okay.
Needless to say, I want to explode, scream, rant, and rave.
But I can't.
Not because I don't want to get in trouble--because I could do the above.
I have permission. However, I lack the apathy it would take to yell at my favorite person in the whole wide world.
And so: I'm screwed.
And I'll probably end up saying and doing something I'm going to regret.
Which already up the ante on my endless amounts of mild social anxiety--because people are stupid, and there comes a point where I tire greatly of their antics. I downright frown upon their shenanigans.
The point is, however, that life just got a hell of a lot worse.
...and I may or may not be brewing a minor hatred for the starter of this metaphorical fire(if it keeps up, it'll be an effing inferno, babe).
(for my own sanity, I'm leaving the entire subject of prom out of this, for now, at least).
Panda out.
P.S. Now that you've finished reading my rant of fury: go read Girl Genius by Phil and Kaja Foglio. It's amazing.
CLICK HERE!
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Allow me to exaggerate
Once again, I should be doing English homework, and once again...I'm not. Ah well. I've done housework, which is surprising. However, if that wasn't surprising enough, my new boyfriend of 3 weeks, the one I was contemplating breaking up with broke up with me today. Imagine my surprise, this is not looking to be my year, I must say. Only February, and already I've made a dozen mistakes, am stressed to the max, sleeping and eating are not on my list of priorities, and I can't even keep a guy I don't like that much as a boyfriend for even a month. Brilliant. I think I deserve some cookie dough, or something. I didn't get to go to state, and I have homework coming out orifices that don't exist, and in general I'd like the world to please stop for just one moment, because I want the eff off! Ergh. In general, this break up actually works in my favor, but it's one of those things that hits my self-esteem ridiculously hard, whether I want it to happen or not. It's just not something I'll ever be used to no matter how many times it happens.
Not to mention the kicker here...
See, I spilled my guts to mom the other night, because I was so darn angry over VASE and not going to state and what they were sending to state and just upset in general because I was being pissy and not liking having to deal with someone 24/7 and being expected to do stuff I didn't necessarily want to do because I was someone's girlfriend and was obligated to let him hold my hand and put his arm around me (which, I have learned, annoys the crap out of me unless you're on a special list of people of which is relatively short). So, yea. Mom and me were talking, and it came to the discussion about why this was happening in the first place, and why all of the sudden, now that I finally have a boy that I semi-like coming after me, I wasn't pleased with the situation.
Turns out, I may have "committment issues."
Imagine my surprise.
I won't lie, I've contemplated this, but I never thought it to be true, nor have any real value to the conclusion, period. However, Mom was able to properly explain this all out to me. Not only am I paranoid little freak, but also one with committment issues for reasons that may or may not relate back to my father (I'm hoping not, that maybe I developed this on my own, because that makes me feel better).
Why this answer fits so well is that I've been going after guys that are
a) married
b) too old
c) both a and b
d) have girlfriends
e) are some sect of a radical religion that I so do not want to get mixed up in.
f) are some ethnicity my mother doesn't want me mixing with
etc.
You see where this is going?
It makes sense, sort of. I go after the impossible knowing I can't and will never have it. Thus, saving me from having to deal with the situation of someone actually returning my shameless flirtations without strings attached.
In general, I'm just a little bummed, miffed, and sort of depressed, because...well yea.
Also, I'd like some cake.
And a unicorn.
Maybe one that has a rainbow colored mane that'll take me to a magical world with singing flowers and smiling strawberries that laugh when you devour them whole.
Yes.
That would be totally awesome.
Panda out.
Not to mention the kicker here...
See, I spilled my guts to mom the other night, because I was so darn angry over VASE and not going to state and what they were sending to state and just upset in general because I was being pissy and not liking having to deal with someone 24/7 and being expected to do stuff I didn't necessarily want to do because I was someone's girlfriend and was obligated to let him hold my hand and put his arm around me (which, I have learned, annoys the crap out of me unless you're on a special list of people of which is relatively short). So, yea. Mom and me were talking, and it came to the discussion about why this was happening in the first place, and why all of the sudden, now that I finally have a boy that I semi-like coming after me, I wasn't pleased with the situation.
Turns out, I may have "committment issues."
Imagine my surprise.
I won't lie, I've contemplated this, but I never thought it to be true, nor have any real value to the conclusion, period. However, Mom was able to properly explain this all out to me. Not only am I paranoid little freak, but also one with committment issues for reasons that may or may not relate back to my father (I'm hoping not, that maybe I developed this on my own, because that makes me feel better).
Why this answer fits so well is that I've been going after guys that are
a) married
b) too old
c) both a and b
d) have girlfriends
e) are some sect of a radical religion that I so do not want to get mixed up in.
f) are some ethnicity my mother doesn't want me mixing with
etc.
You see where this is going?
It makes sense, sort of. I go after the impossible knowing I can't and will never have it. Thus, saving me from having to deal with the situation of someone actually returning my shameless flirtations without strings attached.
In general, I'm just a little bummed, miffed, and sort of depressed, because...well yea.
Also, I'd like some cake.
And a unicorn.
Maybe one that has a rainbow colored mane that'll take me to a magical world with singing flowers and smiling strawberries that laugh when you devour them whole.
Yes.
That would be totally awesome.
Panda out.
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