Sunday, 9 September 2007

Arguments might make me mad, but compliments just make me sad...

Current mood:  sad

Note: Myspace and this computer are driving me crazy. I've written this blog twice now, and both times my words have been eaten before posting.  So now I'm writing this one paragraph at a time.  Hence, I send my sincerest apologies should this story cut off halfway through while you are reading it.  That simply means I'm still writing it!   I hope it works...
So you think the title of this blog entry is weird?  Well, it's no weirder than the brains of the members in the "Group Of People Who Hate Each Other" (My family).
I never receive compliments, so it shocked me that I have received two this week...and from the most unlikely people too. 
First of all, after seeing my sister and her family last Sunday, Emma apparently spoke to Nick about us, and he seems to have something good to say for us for once.  Mum is pleased to hear that he thought her "Elton John glasses" (Large, long distance ones) were "trendy".  Not so sure what to think about his comment on me though...
"Your sister actually looked like a girl!"
Mum is dumbfounded.  Emma is confused.  I am a little puzzled as to why I received this "compliment", but I think I get it.  The last time they saw me was Easter.  Ever since my 16th birthday, I've been doing everything I can to change my appearance with the few things I have access to around the house, tidying up my eyebrow lines, and trying to thoroughly cleanse my skin with E45 cream (Well, I can't get moisturiser, you know?!) and plain old water.  I know it's not good, but I think I look slightly better for it.  Nobody I live with even noticed though ~ It was my brother-in-law of all people in the end!  Still, if I can make an impact on him without access to any kind of proper beauty products, maybe there's hope for me yet, especially if I can get orthodontic treatment.
Then we went on a guided tree walk around Gunnersbury Park on Thursday.   Following the tour, one of our fellow walkers approached me, and asked me, "Are you a dancer?"  I assumed she must have noticed my weird habit of walking on my toes, which people often make rude comments about, but I decided to politely answer her and say I didn't currently attend dance classes but I hoped to someday as part of training for a career as a part-time musical theatre actress - meaning Mum might get some idea of my dreams too.  But before I got the chance, Mum answered for me, "NO!  She is NOT a dancer!" The stranger seemed pretty taken aback by this but continued to speak to me.  "Oh...I betted that you were.  You have such beautiful posture; a lovely straight back, and you walk so gracefully!  You really should try dancing sometime - you certainly have 'the look'." She smiled at me, as though she's picked up a little of my current situation in the short time we'd been speaking and scarpered off to  the bus shelter to try to catch a ride home before my mum could snap at her again.  When we were back in the car, Mum said to me, "I think she might have been a professional dancer once." (The lady had looked the sort of person who might have been once long ago), "So I wouldn't take offence!"  Er...who's taking offence, mother?    The only thing I felt was a little sad.  People are obviously noticing that there's some kind of something there, but I can't do anything to improve myself, or be who I want to be.  
The biggest trouble in my life at the moment though started last night.  And it's all so very odd.  Right, so let me just go over the facts, and put a little reminder in for new readers, or for people who have simply forgotten. 
1. Mum taunts me for being a fan of Shane Meier.  To avoid further teasing, I've managed to prevent her from even seeing his photograph these past two years.
2. Mum has a family history e-pal, who she told I collected ponies, and who now buys MLP's at her local car boot sale for me.  In return, Mum feels the need to repay her by doing family history chores for her at Kew Archives.
Right.  Now, although I try to avoid her seeing Shane on TV, I'd never deny her seeing a DVD or video she actually requested to see.  She's just not interested in "All the sci-fi cr*p" (Stargate Atlantis) and she knows little about the other shows/movies I've taped anyway.
However, when Bonnie leant me "Silver Wolf", I was talking to Mum about it, since she asked what was in the package.  She made little comment, but on Friday night (The day before I promised to send the film back to Bonnie!) SHE raised the subject again, and said it sounded like a really nice film and she wanted to see it.  OK, fine, no problem.  In fact, if she actually enjoyed a film that Shane had starred in, she might not be quite so rude to me, I thought.  But this was late on Friday night, and we didn't have time to watch an entire film.
Even though I was willing to play the entire film for her, I needed to play it one more time to get a recording of it. Since the disc is securtiy locked, I couldn't do a regular recording, so I needed to do an audio recording.  This requires turning the TV up so loud you can't hear yourself think, and remaining quieter than a mouse yoursef, whilst continually checking the tinny tape recorder to be sure it's still making the recording.  In other words, it requires just one person being in the house alone to limit noise levels.
Yesterday, Mum decided to go to Kew Archives and research her friend's ancestor.  I decided to stay at home and make the recording.  Mum said I was "selfish", and it was my "duty to go since she's working for my ponies".  I argued, since I knew the DVD should really have gone back to Bonnie already, so I really had to make the recording.  I 'won' and was stuck indoors the house making a recording instead of going out to the records office.
I got a rather bad recording of the entire film, the trailer, and then all of Shane's lines seperately.  Still, better than nothing, I guess.  *Shrugs*  Mum returned after five hours, tired and lacking the information she wanted for her friend.  She was annoyed that Dad hadn't taken her to the house to do more clearing out, but seemed to have an even bigger chip on her shoulder when it came to me.  
We had our usual arguments over our saturday egg and chips ~ Dad said I'd put the ketchup away without asking him if he wanted it (even though it was still on the kitchen counter), Mum ate some of Dad's chips (even though she had plenty  of her own), and I dropped an egg on the floor.  Goody, goody!
Then Dad went to work and Mum and I hung up the laundry.  Then Mum went to sleep on the sofa, asking me to wake her up at 9pm to ring my sister up, which I did.  But instead of ringing Emma, Mum started screaming at me that she was too tired, and I was odd.
I'm "keeping the DVD away from her" apparently, and am "Mentally insecure" (Well, do you blame me, considering where I live?)  But how am I keeping the DVD away from her anyway.  She asked to see it too late on Friday night, and she was out/asleep all day yesterday.  She's the mentally insecure one!  Anyhow, do you know what she's going to do to get me back for this terrible thing I've done?  She's going to "buy herself a copy" (having told me I'm not to buy one for my "stupid obsessive reasons") and "keep it away from me"!  WTH?!  Why would she want a DVD about a wolf, starring MY favourite actor?!  Heck, she likes wolves, but not THAT much, especially since she hardly ever watches TV, so it's not an every day thing for her to buy a DVD.  She's acting just like a little kid!
Then she began ranting some more.  She was "Too tired to cut Splodge's supper up" and I am "A lazy little cow who expects everybody else to pander to my every need and look after a guinea pig she wishes was dead so that she could go on holiday!"  That's an outright lie!  I ALWAYS do everything to look after Splodge except cut his supper up, and ALWAYS did that job too (For Sparkle as well) before the kitchen light went. I only stopped because I kept cutting my fingers to ribbons, whereas Mum has more experience from all of the guinea pigs we've had in the past and can work in the dark quite easily.
I didn't say any of that though.  Instead I tried to keep the peace, saying I would stay at home and look after Splodge while she went on holiday alone.  At this she went mad, saying, "I'm too young to be left on my own."  (Actually, there's no law in the UK fora minimum age a person can be left) I informed her of this, only to be told I was "Ungrateful" and she "Would have been all too happy to go anywhere that her mother offered to take her."  Um...wait a moment, we have no family to look after Splodge, she thinks guinea pig hotels run by strangers are cruel, and she wants to go on holiday.  What am I supposed to do?  Wring poor little Splodge's neck?  It was just a suggestion so that she could get on the holidays she wants so much. And yet she got mad at me for that too!  
She decided to sleep on the sofa even though it was her night to sleep in the "communal bed", so Dad had to go to the new house.  Not sure where Dad's going to be sleeping in the long run though, since Mum said one final spite-filled  line before she went to sleep:
"I'm selling the house!"
Wonderful.  Just what  I wanted to hear.  I think I get why they don't get on and do anything with that house there.  They like it sitting there so that they can threaten to sell it and leave me in this dump.  *Sighs*
I was so upset that I didn't get to bed until 3am.  And Dad didn't get home until 9.30am which was when I was woken up.  Mum wasn't speaking to me.  Eventually, when David came out of the bathroom, a huge argument started up.
Apparently, I'm a "Selfish little git who she wishes was dead", and she's going to "Dance on my grave" if I die before her.  If I don't die, they need to "find somewhere else for me to go" since I'm "turning into an ogre".  I’m "Not going to Bristol PonyCon" (Good.  I think it only would have caused endless trouble for everyone involved anyway, although not so good I still won't meet Laura ) and she's "Going to get her passport picture taken, but NOT mine, because I'm not leaving the country". (Huh!  I'm not even going to LIVE in this country much longer, much less not go on holiday out of it!)  It's "My own fault for having guinea pigs" (Well, we had other ties - namely my grandparents - when I bought Sparkle and Splodge five years ago.  How was I supposed to know he'd live so long?
It won't affect me since I "don't want her company" (Who's insecure now, eh?), and "don't want to go anywhere anyway".  Lie, lie, lie!  I'd KILL to go to California with her!  This is because I "don't have any ambitions" (My mouth gaped open at this one), and "if she had been the same at my age she would have felt sorry for herself too!"  I think that's where I went mad.  "I DO have ambitions!  It's YOU who has stopped me!"  "Nobody knows what it is you want to do.  We can't be bothered playing silly guessing games.  And SURPRISE, SURPRISE!!!  We don't care what you want to do with your pathetic life either!"
Er...but I thought you "pandered to everything I'd ever wanted to do", as you said last night.  But now you don't even know what it is that I want to do!  Stop contradicting everything you say!
Anyhow, that's about it.  Mum has now calmed down and is talking to me.  Weird.  Dad is back at "work" that isn't really work.  I missed another of the rare Epsom car boot sales today (They're having two extra this year - today and the 23rd September - on top of the Bank Holiday ones), and didn't leave the house.  Brilliant.
I wish that Angie woman hadn't stopped Emma from signing up on Myspace.  I really want somebody I know personally to read this and get some messages across to my mum...IF it really is the case that she doesn't understand my (non-existant ) ambitions.  I just feel so lonely and isolated here.
Anyhow, I'm off.  I've wasted the entire day writing this thing what with the computer keep eating various paragraphs.  I just hope it works this time.  I don't want to have to write it all again!
I hope you're all having a better day than myself!
Best wishes,
Desperate Skylark (AKA "Pretty Please Save Me!!!") xxx

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