Wednesday, 4 March 2009

NOT moving on saturday. (Beware: Long rant ahead!)

Current mood:  sad

Well, I've just been informed that I can't move on saturday.  My mum is telling me I'm stupid for even considering it.  (She has gone into the "Let's snap at everyone else" phase of her depression in case you hadn't guessed).
She says I must stay here and clear up this house if there's to be any hope of us still getting to California.  Well, let me just point out to you that we have to cancel it within the next two days ANYWAY, and we're quite obviously not moving in time as the builders aren't doing anything, and Mum won't even look at colours until all the work is done.
But still, I must stay here and clear the house up.  The problem is, most of the stuff belongs to my parents, hence I can't throw it out/sell it/do anything with it except move it around the house, giving myself backache while trying desperately to find my stuff to clear out. Talk about a Cinderella story!  I just hope it has a similar happy ending.
This also means I won't have the opportunity to go to the shops when I want to.  Not that I have much money anyways, but there are certain things I'd made last up until this point, but really need to replace now.  So I told Mum that if she won't let me move in to Woodberry, I at least need to have a shopping trip on my own again.  It has been six months since the last one.
"WHY?" She answered.  "What do you need to get that's so secret?"  Nothing that SHOULD have to be so secret, that's for sure.  But if you won't allow your almost 18-year-old daughter to buy simple things like deodrant or shaving stuff while she's with you, you've got to at least let her have a personal shopping trip once in a while!
So much for getting to wear what I wanted this summer!  This is officially my penultimate teenage summer, and so far I have no say in anything I do.  I guess I'll still have my kiddies' hairstyle, three t-shirts and a load of ripped leggings to my name.  All I wanted was to be able to actually wear a skirt or a dress this year, and get my ratty hair sorted out.  It's not like I'm not asking for a magic ballgown and glass slippers.   Oh well...
Although the wicked stepmother in this Cinderella story (Sorry, I mean my parents!) are getting estate agents in tonight to value Woodberry.  I'm praying the estimates will be too low for them to sell/let the house, but I fear they won't be in that area, even with house prices falling the way they are.
I'm so distressed, I just sent my European Christmas Minty who I bought in Luxembourg flying across the room.  I don't know why, and I ended up in tears over it.  It's not like that poor thing ever did anything to me.  Luckily, she wasn't harmed by her ordeal, but still.  So now Mum is telling me my new shelves are a waste of money, and this is the "beginning of the end for pony collecting".  Well, considering she's been saying that for eight years on various occasions, I think she has just about been proved wrong.  I'll always love my MLPs!  At least when you're down, they can give you that funny plastic-y grin, and cheer you up - unlike some humans I could mention. >.<  They have been friends to me throughout my life as a prisoner in Grottsville.  In fact, that's what I retorted in response to Mum's stupid comment.
"Friends?  They're not friends; they're plastic!"  (Yes, I KNOW that, mother.  But when you have no real life friends and no way of going out and making any real life friends, plastic ponies are a good alternative.  At least they don't argue back! )
I reckon she doesn't want to move house, because then she can blame not wanting to leave the stuff here while she goes to California, meaning she has no trouble with Emma, who was promised she was going when she was a couple of years younger than me.  (Then David lost his job and we didn't go).  But then, Emma - the one who claims America is "her country" and I only want to go to Canada - was looking up all the Disney parks the other day, and wrote to Mum asking if she knew that Hollywood and San Fransisco were in California!!!  Yeah, she must have been so devestated not to go all those years ago, not even knowing what was there.  I mean, how can you say that California is "your place" when you don't even know what famous places are there?  Gosh, there are parts of California I've studied so well I know where individual tiny neighbourhoods are, let alone the main cities.  And okay, not wanting to bring Canada back up when Emma is claiming it's the *only* place I want to go, but I know Vancouver off by heart.  It's actually got to the point that I can watch a TV show and 50% of the time tell you what street they're standing in just by seeing a familiar landmark in the background.  And I've never even been there!
Anyways, David just came and asked HER where SHE wanted to go and SHE said nowhere, so I'M stuck indoors all day again.  Apparently, we're clones or something.  Well, I guess I'd better go and get on with the necessary clearing up.  I just don't know what to do with all my unwanted stuff though.  David won't do a car boot sale, and e-Bay fees take such a lot of the profit even if I was old enough for my own account.
Well...
♥ No matter how your heart is grieving,
If you keep on believing,
The dream that you wish will come true... ♥

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