Something's wrong

I'm so angry!
I'm so angry and I'm so frustrated, but I don't know why.
I think there's something wrong with me.

*sniff sniff* I smell a Canuck winter approaching!

Note to the human populace.
Do not, I repeat, -DO NOT- talk to me about how much you dislike, despise, or hate snow, because if you do I will, most assuredly, go medieval on your ass.

Seriously. Canadian here. And I looove my Canuck winters!
So when a highschool friend of mine tells me" "it's snowing at my house today"and I respond with "It was snowing here, too! Just as I left the building to walk across campus. My luck! Haha! Man, I love snow!" to which she responds with "i don't like snow...i want it to go away"...
Well, that just pisses me off. So I tell her "Blasphemous! Sounds like someone needs to move south! Or start running a coal factory."


It's like when my grandmother complains about Canada, I ask her why, then, did she immigrate here? If you hate the snow, then support coal factories, turn on all of your lights and waste waste waste...or move South, but don't come complaining to me about it.
I love snow.

NaNaWriMo? No Thanks!

National Novel Writing Month.

Two of my "friends" are partaking in it.
One was sort of suggestion I join, the other didn't even mention she was in it and I didn't know until I wikipedia searched "Nanowrimo", since her MSN name has the usual fluffy "ILU!" shit for her "boy" (a twenty-seven year old "questionable" [in my books] man who has already dumped her...twice...that I know of), and then she has "Namowrimo word count: 546"
Anyway, I wikipedia searched it and the article came up and I went "ooooh yaaaa" when I remembered what it was.

The fact that she's in it? Oh man, hilarious. Her writing makes me laugh. Her prose is only "so-so" and her poetry? Well, she doesn't use punctuations and she knows that pisses me off. But since *checks her DA account* December of last year (2006), she has been writing "erotic" fantasy's involving what she wanted her boyfriend to do to her. She sent them to me before submitting them to proof-read and grammar-check. Oh god, horrible! I do NOT want to read that kind of smut. My mother used to teach her. In grades 2 and 3. Ewwwww! D:
There's no telling what kind of stuff she's writing on there!
I may have to use my semi-awesome e-stalking skills to find out. And then mock her. In private. Or in MSN conversations with my little sister.
I'm twisted like that.

I mean, I know the contest thingy doesn't really care about quality, but still...

Personally, any "contest" that's priding quantity over quality when it comes to the written word is complete bullocks if you ask me.

I'm sort of really looking forward to her going all "OMG! Why aren't you in it? You should have joined! Can you proof-read my crap?!"
So I can calmly tell her that, no, I didn't want to join and still don't want to join because, surprise, I'm a thrid year History and Sociology major and I do enough writing on time-limits and I don't need the added pressure and, also surprise, that stuff is complete crap. In fact, your stuff is complete crap."

I might leave out that last bit, because I'm too nice to the people I sort of really hate.


{EDIT} I found her.
HAR HAR HAR!
Let the e-stalking/e-mocking begin! ;D

I might as well move to Berlin.

Har har! My life! Rant time. D:<

So, last night I wasn’t “allowed” to work on my essay for about 2 hours because the German Wonder had received three DVD’s in the mail from some obscure relatives in B.C. and she and Helga wanted to watch them “NOW.” I put the first one in and start it and go into the washroom to wash my hair over the side of the tub (it was in need of a wash, sheesh.) I’m in there for like, 4 minutes, and am turning the faucet when all I hear it “Kristen?! {reeeally loudly, ‘cause she’s right outside the damn door} KRISTEN?!” And I’m all “WHAT?! DDD:<” and she’s says (and I quote) “Oh come oooonnn. The thing is stuck.” And I say “What?!” “The thing is stuck.” And I mumble “Well what the hell am I supposed to do about it, if it’s stuck, it’s stuck.” So I turn the water off and stumble out the door and she’s standing there like a freakin’ goose, or something equally annoying, and says “It’s stuck. Fix it.” And I say “I heard you the first million times. There’s not much I can do if it’s scratched.” So I take the damn thing out and check for scratches and there are none. There’s a few smudges, so I deal with them and put it back in. I push play and wait and it “gets stuck” again. I take it out again. I’m cleaning it off for the second time when she says “Maybe I get Mike to fix it.” And I respond with “If the DVD’s scratched, that man won’t be able to do anything.” “Oh.”

So I try it again.

Nothing.

I try it again, fast forwarding it, trying to get past the moment it freezes, nothing. I try it AGAIN, nothing. So I tell her and Helga “No, it’s not going to work. I’ll put one of the other two in.” So I do, then I go and wash my hair and by the time I’m done, it’s done, and I put the third one in after I’m informed that “Oh, then you have to stay here and make it work.” To which I mumbled “I have a freakin’ essay to write.” Plus a line of old-school swears that would make King Henry proud, but the old bats didn’t hear. So I sit there and let my hair dry and watch the stupid slide show of relatives I don’t know building the front of a barn and stuff. It ends, and she tells me to put the first one in again. I tell her that if it didn’t work before, it’s not going to work now because it “doesn’t fix itself with magic.” But I put it in again. And nothing. And again. And nothing. And again, and nothing. And by now I’m pretty much ready to throw the thing out the window and let the idiots behind us use it as a party game because the damn German music at the beginning is driving me even crazier than I already was.

So I tell her “No, it’s not working.”

And then she has the gall, the absolute gall to tell me that it’s because {and I quote} “You’re just not patient enough *laugh laugh laugh*” So I spin. I spin and spit out “Not patient enough?! I have a freakin’ ESSAY due on TUESDAY and I’m down here TRYING to make it work! I tried about 10 freakin’ times!! Not patient enough?! Oh that’s it.” So I mash stop on the remote and turn off the machine and turn on the TV for the idiots and storm upstairs.

I went back down to make tea. Twice. In my HUUUUGE mug that she doesn’t like me using because when I put it in the microwave she claims it “uses too much hydro.”

So I was just downstairs, getting water, it was about 1PM.

She reading some German letter thing.

She asks me if “they get the email in Germany”.

And I’m all “everyone gets emails. Do you mean the internet?”

She nods and does her German “Oh ya oh ya” thing. So I say “Ya, why?” I can feel the dread start to rise already. I know what’s coming. She was wondering if one could conceivably email a store in Germany and ask how much a pillow is. So I say “Ya, but I don’t type in German, so you’d have to type.” She pretty much ignores me and keeps going on about emailing Germany. She then says that it’s “too late now.” And I’m all “What? Why is it ‘too late’?”

She thinks email is like the phone. It’s about 8PM there, so she thinks the store is closed, therefore, it’s too late to email. I tell her emailing is not like phoning. If they’re not there, they’ll get the email tomorrow. But she’d have to type, ‘cause, surprise, I know no German. So I make a hasty retreat back upstairs.

Oh boy, I can not wait.

And this weekend she’s been more pushy then ever on her “You HAVE to go for walk!” thing. It’s like the weekend before my annotated bibliography was due: she must have this thing in her head that says “Oh! Kristen’s working and has something due, let’s inconvenience her to the N’th degree!”

Oh, and yesterday when I was eating lunch downstairs (a mistake, which is why when I’m here I don’t eat lunch, but she nagged me into it) she was talking about how the German Hour was cancelled. Every Sunday, some German guy plays German music for an hour. And talks in between the music in German. And she tapes it and listens to it. So, apparently, it was cancelled after “29 years {or so says she}” because the dude didn’t have enough money to keep it going. “For one hour, he has to pay $2,100 {I think that’s how much she said}.” So he was asking people to send in money because he “didn’t was to sell his house and not have anywhere.” And I’m thinking ‘He’s willing to suggest he’d sell his house just to get people to give him money? That’s low.’ Because, really, even if he had been doing it for 29 years, selling your house to keep a one hour German radio show going sounds pretty stupid to me. She says that “the old people don’t send in money and the young people just don’t care.” And here I am again, thinking ‘That’s ‘cause the “young people” have better things to spend their money on.’ And I tell her that the “old people have nothing else to do, they might as well give him money.” So she flusters about and eventually I say “Maybe the radio company was bought out by an American company or something, who knows?” and she turns into German-Nazi-Woman and says “No, it’s owned by a Jew.”

*sighs*

Really, history and sociology major here. I HATE having to hear shit like this daily because I live with a German witch.

So I tell her, quite loudly, “That makes no difference. His or her religion has NOTHING to do with it.”

And she goes “Oh” and stops talking.

Did I feel bad? No. Not at all. Because I’ve pretty much had it with her and Helga saying “Oh, it’s because he’s a Jew” or saying that “Those coloured people have no discipline” or that the noise behind our house {which is, during the weekday, children playing because there’s a Muslim school nearby} “those Muslims” who “don’t know how to keep their kids quiet.” {It’s a freakin’ school! Kids play at recess! GAH!}

I know, mom tells me every time she comes to visit that they’re “old and stuck in their ways” but as a history and sociology student I can’t just sit there and let them talk racial slander. It’s not in my nature. And I’m just getting SICK of it.

So I go to school and tell my friend Kate about it who laaaaughs at a German named “Helga” and then tries to calculate how much longer until I snap and she reads my name in the newspaper.

So fun! D:<

*giggles*

I found my old LiveJournal journal.
Haha!
So baaad.
So saaad!
Haha!

Oh man, my icon is a Coheed and Cambria thing, a band I still love, but am not as obsessed with as I was then.
HAhahaha!
My "about me" says " would not be able to survive without my daily dosage of anime, manga, or depressing poetry and teenaged angst music!"

Oh boy, was I a proud emo kid or what?! :3

Well, it's off to school for me. Time to buck up and participate!


DDDDD":

Team Awesome Strikes Again!

So, lots of stuff has happened, but it's 1:35AM right now and I'm just a tad tired. So I'll fully update soon.

Just thought I'd note, though: I can't seem to starve myself. I lack the self-discipline. So I've inadvertently picked up a new way of dealing (and by "inadvertently" I mean I didn't notice I was doing it all day until that night, around midnight, when I went to bed): I'm punching myself. In the stomach. When I finally realized I was doing it, I sort of got this mental drive to continue until I saw bruises. I need bruises. I didn't have any yet and this seems to...disappoint me.
Punching, and pinching the mounds of flab that encase my body.
*sigh*
Cue the Dashboard Confessionals and black eye-liner I guess.
Both of which I hate.

Go team awesome.

And Kate says I'm gonna Snap

I’m trying my hardest to figure out why my grandmother is so pissed off at me.

Story time! This morning, while preparing breakfast for myself, she kept trying to get me to say “ok” to her cooking something for me before I leave. I had to leave in half-an-hour. I told her I had a sandwich in my bag and two clementines, but she kept insisting. She then said that, if I didn’t say yes to her cooking for me, that she’d “have to throw everything out.” She had nothing cooked. So she then said “Fine! I’ll give you money and you can buy something. Then I won’t have to cook ever again.” And she put $10 on the counter and went about laundry (which I conceded to her last night, so she should be happy or something. She finally won. I’m not able to grow up/mature, even a little, in the world, bravo to her.)

I was getting ready to leave and she put a banana by my bag, harassing me that I “can’t learn without eating something,” to which I kept telling her that I -have- something to which -she- kept scoffing at. So then she tried shoving the money in my hand, ‘cause I refused to take it. I eventually took it, telling her I wasn’t going to use it (and I didn’t) and she said “Fine. Just go over there (meaning the mall, I suppose) and buy something to eat.” She then sat at the table and I said goodbye and left.

Tonight, I walked in, went to the back room, where she was sitting in the dark, watching The Weather Network, and said hello and she said hello back, in a tense-ish way. I went upstairs to drop my stuff off and she said nothing to me. Not even when I came back downstairs. And she usually asks me how my day was etc. Nothing. So I went to watch some tv in the other room and the phone started ringing. It rang twice and I called out to her “Should I answer it?” and she said “I’m not answering it.” So it kept ringing. I then went and stood in the doorway to the back room and said “You’re not going to answer it? You’re just going to let it ring?” and she said “I’m not answering it. You answer it.” So I did. And it was some annoying German friend of hers. So I passed the phone off to her (the phone from the front) and went back to the front room. I could hear her laughing and stuff. She then came into the room and put the phone back, then went into the kitchen for something. She then went into the washroom and was running the water (I dunno, for her teeth or something) and I went upstairs, saying slightly loudly that it was “time for pajamas” and went into my room. I kept my door open. I changed, and I heard her close her door. She opened it again, and then slammed it. Without saying anything. So, really, I did -something- wrong, I just don’t know what. And I do -not- need this stress right now.

I’m just getting so -frustrated- with her! Gah! What did I do this time? She’s been all “Your older sister this” and “Your older sister that,” (you know, saying I’m not getting the Port Elgin paper because mom and dad are “probably saving the money to bring your older sister home” and such) so maybe I’m not living up to some “Older Sister Standard,” but god! She’s so irritating!

My friend, Kate, told me today that “one day, you’re just gonna snap.” And it’s true. I really think I’m just biding my time. Or -she’s- just biding -her- time…either way, class tomorrow. I’m off to a stressful sleep. Wish me luck!