Torn
2002-03-07: 8:05 p.m.
Well the second round of midterms came today and the ones from yesterday struck with avengance. I got 83's on the Latin midterm and the Advanced English one. I don't know about Phil's Advanced Drama midterm, but I know he got an 85 on his Chemistry, but that was with a 15 point curve, so really, he got a 70. What does Mom say when I ask why she bitch about my 83 and she knew about his curve? "Stephanie, this isn't about him. Anytime I ask you why you did something, all I hear from you is, 'Phil, mommy, Phil.'" I'm so pissed off right now, it's not fair, it just isn't fair. And all the while, she's petting him on the head singing her goddamned "I Am Proud Of You Song". I never get that. When we got progress reports, he had B's and she sang that damn song for him. I worked my ass of and got straight A's and her response was, "See? That wasn't that hard, was it?" Hell yes, it was that hard. It's shit like that that makes my grade go down the drain. I feel like no matter how good I do, it still isn't good enough. It's never good enough for her. And you know what the worst part is? There's no one to cry to anymore. It's like I'm standing in the middle of a silent room filled with millions of people, screaming at the top of my lungs and everyone's back is still turned to me. No one looks to see if I'm ok, no one cares. There's no one to tell it to so I have to type it on a fucking webpage. It's like Phil is dog that pisses on the carpet and she gives him a treat, and I lay on a bed of nails for her to use me as a bridge and walk across my back and I'm thrown in a dungeon and fed nothing but bread crusts 'n' water. Oh, and if I were to be the golden retriever, pissing on the carpet, pepper would be poured on it and my nose would be rubbed in it. Dad's the same way. He's been telling Gailmi and Phil that if they get jobs, he'll get them a car. I'm the only one of the three who actually got off my ass and asked about a summer job, I am working this summer, I stopped just talking about it and got my sorry ass out and did something about it. I have to go now, so I can e-mail him and see if I can get a benefit.
diaryland.com
2002-03-07: 8:05 p.m.
Well the second round of midterms came today and the ones from yesterday struck with avengance. I got 83's on the Latin midterm and the Advanced English one. I don't know about Phil's Advanced Drama midterm, but I know he got an 85 on his Chemistry, but that was with a 15 point curve, so really, he got a 70. What does Mom say when I ask why she bitch about my 83 and she knew about his curve? "Stephanie, this isn't about him. Anytime I ask you why you did something, all I hear from you is, 'Phil, mommy, Phil.'" I'm so pissed off right now, it's not fair, it just isn't fair. And all the while, she's petting him on the head singing her goddamned "I Am Proud Of You Song". I never get that. When we got progress reports, he had B's and she sang that damn song for him. I worked my ass of and got straight A's and her response was, "See? That wasn't that hard, was it?" Hell yes, it was that hard. It's shit like that that makes my grade go down the drain. I feel like no matter how good I do, it still isn't good enough. It's never good enough for her. And you know what the worst part is? There's no one to cry to anymore. It's like I'm standing in the middle of a silent room filled with millions of people, screaming at the top of my lungs and everyone's back is still turned to me. No one looks to see if I'm ok, no one cares. There's no one to tell it to so I have to type it on a fucking webpage. It's like Phil is dog that pisses on the carpet and she gives him a treat, and I lay on a bed of nails for her to use me as a bridge and walk across my back and I'm thrown in a dungeon and fed nothing but bread crusts 'n' water. Oh, and if I were to be the golden retriever, pissing on the carpet, pepper would be poured on it and my nose would be rubbed in it. Dad's the same way. He's been telling Gailmi and Phil that if they get jobs, he'll get them a car. I'm the only one of the three who actually got off my ass and asked about a summer job, I am working this summer, I stopped just talking about it and got my sorry ass out and did something about it. I have to go now, so I can e-mail him and see if I can get a benefit.
Snort them mooncrack.
MOONCRACKHEAD AND AWAY!
PS. If you know me personaly, call my mom and tell her to get me a shrink, seeing is as she won't listen to me.
diaryland.com
