Could it get any worse?

My day was going okay. We went to the library (was pissed me off was that I was having trouble getting out of the car, and my dad just walked on), then we went to Michaels again (and, again, I didn't get anything), then we went home.

But, when I was making my bed, I realized that a dog had urinated on it.

Mom said, "Well, I said that Teddy needed out...", and I told her, "Well, I was on my computer, wasn't I?!" I'm not sure who urinated on my bed, but whoever did managed to piss on my wool blanket. Oh, fun. And I couldn't put any of the blankets in the wash right away because His Highness had laundry in. Even more fun. And I got it a shouting match with him over it. He told me that my matress didn't need vinegar put on it because it was dry! Well, here's some news for you, sunshine: dog piss doesn't have to be wet to smell like dog piss. So I dabbed it with a piece of paper towel with vinegar on it to disguise the scent, so that hopefully, hopefully, it doesn't get pissed on again.

...Well, I'm back from putting my mattress sheet and flannel blanket in the dryer and putting my douvet in the wash. I don't think I'll bother washing the douvet cover, since I don't desperately need it to keep warm overnight. I'll probably be up all night washing and drying everything... I could have had it done sooner if I had paid attention to the buzzer...

On top of all that, I think I have a cold AND a coldsore-of-sorts on the side of my tongue. Oh, what fun indeed! You see, Emma said at youth group that everyone in her year at her high school seems to be sick, and Emma and Micaela not only go to the same school, but they're both in the same year. Micaela was coughing at youth group - she said she felt fine before she came, and only just started coughing when she came to the meeting, so she might have picked up the cold. So my throat is sore, I feel like I have a slight fever (my face is warm, but Mom says it's not too warm), I have that annoying coldsore thing on my tongue - or maybe it's a blister? I seem to be prone to blisters on my feet and tongue, so that's quite possible. I also still have a headache from the weather changing (stupid snow...), and I'm dopey from the sore throat/not-quite-fever combination.

And I still have an acrylic crocheted afghan (made by my mom when I was younger! :) ) and a wool blanket to wash.

I did, however, watch Stepmom with Mom, which was nice. I ripped out my soon-to-be pouch because I realised that, the way I was making it, the edges would curl, so I re-started it with curl-proof edges.

Time for some more psychedelic music...

The market, my parents, and Saturday Night Live

First, my parents and the market.

We went to the farmer's market this morning. Maybe I should've stayed home. There weren't too many wasps, but when I flinched, Dad yelled at me, saying that it provokes them. Uh, Dad, what the heck was I supposed to do! It buzzed right in my ear! It's human nature to recoil!

And then we're walking back to the car, and Dad makes a sudden left turn, and I'm standing with Mom in between the sidewalks, and a car is stopped in front of Mom. So what does mom say?

"Sam, pay attention! It's like walking with a ten-year-old!"

Well, it's not my fault that Dad decides to make sudden turns when there's cars coming out everybody's ears.

Then in the evening, Mom's mad because she told Dad that she wanted to order Chinese take-out, and he started drinking. He only had one beer, so he was okay to drive, but Mom wasn't too keen on it. Which I totally get. Then, when I wrote down what we wanted to order so that my dad could read it aloud over the phone, I asked him if he could read it, because I made some errors with the pen, and my writing is a bit small. So he read, "Pork fried vice...", because apparently, I can't write. So I flew into a rage, and he flew into a rage, and I went downstairs and put my headphones on until Mom called me upstairs to watch the Major League Soccer game (Toronto FC beat New York 3-1, by the way!!!!!).

And now, for the SNL portion of this post.

I started watching season one of Saturday Night Live this afternoon while my mom was making grape jam. I ate some of the grapes, and they were pretty sour, but good. I got to see John Belushi's impression of Joe Cocker, which was hilarious!

I need to vent

My parents appall me.

Seriously. Yeah, I've been known to go on and on about something, but yelling at me won't make me stop, it'll just infuriate me even more. Why don't they get that?! If they want respect from me, they need to treat me with respect, plain and simple.

My dad, for instance. We're at the library, and he told me off for 'going on and on' about something. He had told me to walk around to pay my fines because I forgot to remind the librarian that I had fines, and I don't know if she saw them on the monitor. So I'm about to walk around when my dad says, "Just hold on, and give them your card here!" And I called him a hypocrite. And I 'went on and on'. And he yelled at me.

It was raining when we went home, and when I got in the door, I took my shoes off, thinking Mom would yell at me if I walked on the wood flooring in wet running shoes. My dad, who came in after me, yelled at me for not stepping in (on the wood floor, in wet runners...), and he KICKED MY SHOES OUT OF THE WAY, OUT OF HIS WAY! AM I SOME KIND OF INCONVENIECE TO HIM OR SOMETHING?! THIS IS RIDICULOUS!

I swear, every time I go to the library with my father, he tells me that Mom and I need to stop reserving so much stuff. Hey, I can't control when it comes in!

I think I'll start walking to the library, even when I have a large amount of items to go back and/or pick up. Anything to avoid my old man. Yes, I'm willing to break my back to avoid going to the library with him. I need the fresh air anyhow.

My mom is nearly as bad. When I was crabby and recovering from that headache, my sister called after I'd calmed down, and she was tellig my sister that I get so frustrated over my algebra, and that the black belt test was so for me, and now... oh, and according to my mother, I should get my florist's certificate. Why would I need a florist's certificate?!

Whether you like it or not, MOM, I'm going to university. Got it?!

On top of that, I'm supposed to like Steph because she's my brother's pick. I never said I hated her. All I said was that she's rather irresponsible. She has allergies, and a cat. Now, I have no problem with folks getting married young, I just think that my brother is too immature to handle marriage. I don't even know where he's working anymore, and if he doesn't have a steady income, how is he gonna support Steph?

I can't wait 'til youth group starts up again.

I want to walk to the library tomorrow.

Since apparently I'm being very disagreeable, I'm gonna rebel. I think I should be a little self-indulgent. For too long, I've smiled, nodded my head, obeyed people, and didn't give myself credit.

I'm not such a bad person. I have skills. I can knit. I can read. I can do math, even though it drives me nuts. I can defend myself from an attacker. I can protest peacefully. I can play music - not as well as some kids, but I know how to read music, which is a plus. I can work, but nothing seems to grab me, which is why I don't have a job. I am not completely worthless. I have potential.

I'm not going to let anyone squash my dreams. I will work in radio. I will continue playing music, and hopefully, I'll become a session musician or a singer. I love to sing. And I think, if given the chance, I would love to act. Because I was in karate for so long, I never took acting classes. Maybe I'll start.

Maybe I'll write for a living, too. Heck, Stephen King writes and is in a band. If he can do it, I can, too. And my parents aren't going to stop me.

Now, my dears, here's some music. I believe my Ravelry friend, Dianna, would call these songs 'pretty noises', right, Dianna? :)

First, Blitzkrieg Bop by The Ramones




Bad Reputation by Joan Jett. This video might not be suitable for younger readers, or readers who don't like swearing.




Rock n' Roll High School by The Ramones




My Generation by The Who

Ice cream and TV

This is the most absurd thing I've gone through this week. But, then again, the week is young.

Not only do I have to watch America's Got Talent at 11:00 and probably tape the rest OR watch the second half at 9:00 and the first half at 11:00 because THEY want to watch Big Brother, but also my darling parents and I are fighting over ice cream. There's only one portion of Peanut Butter Tracks flavoured Ben & Jerry's, and that's down to my idiotic FATHER. The greedy-guts took a huge portion of the Peanut Butter Tracks ice cream, which means I have to eat vanilla. Well, I could have eaten his Cherry Garcia, but I decided to really annoy them and eat vanilla. With chocolate chips.

(insert battle cry here)

Feeling ick.

I'm an idiot.

I ate two small bowls of these spicy cheddar potato chips with some chip dip mixed with plain yogurt. Now I'm feelin' the burn.... literally.

However, the soundtrack from The Song Remains The Same is in transit, along with another CD - Bob Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited (Insert happy dance here!).

I started working on a back-to-school shopping list - well, back-to-homeschool, to be precise. So far, I've decided that I need some pencils, a pen jar, a planner and some film for my purple camera. On my list is also a sub-list entitled 'other' - so far, I have knickers and black pants on that sub-list.

I also need to pester my dad to move that giant computer monitor off my table. I hate it when people dump stuff on my table - especially huge stuff like a friggin' computer monitor! That monstrosity was meant for me to use, but since my stupid, evil brother decided not to let me have his old CPU, even though he said I could if I got a monitor, keyboard, etc... well, the monitor is pretty much useless to me, but my dad can hook it up to this computer 'cause the monitor we're currently using is rather dark. I have to squint when I look at dark photos.

So there you have it. My dad, AKA He Who Never Listens.

My dad, the computer hog.

This drives me nuts.

So I was knitting and watching Last Comic Standing. Then Swingtown came on, so I got off the couch so that my dad, who was on the computer, could sit there. When he got off the computer, I asked him if he was finished. He said, "No." I think I also asked him if he was being sarcastic. He wasn't. So I went downstairs. I ate the rest of my chocolate, read knitting magazines and listened to Ringo Starr Live at Soundstage. Loudly.

He left that computer running unattended while he watched Swingtown. By the time he was finished, it was too late in the evening for me to go on. Actually, it was probably more like too early in the morning for me to go on, because he probably turned it off at around midnight, or a little bit after midnight.

If he had asked me to leave his browser open, I would have done that. But instead he just leaves it running and doesn't let me use it.

Funky stomach

We went out for fast-food on Monday, and I got a funky stomach afterwards. I'm not sure if it was from the food or if it was from an employee, but I felt queasy later that day, and I felt the same way yesterday. I'm okay now - I had a bowl of grits as a late breakfast.

Sometime today I have to get to the library. I went with my dad yesterday, but they were closed due to flooding. We had wicked weather over the last few days. One day (I can't remember which day), we had a mix of rain and hail. Freaky.

This just in... my computer is stupid. It just brought up a window saying that it was doing automatic updates. My mom said, "That's what it's SUPPOSED TO DO!" My dad thinks I'm overreacting. Too bad... I just hate it when I'm typing and it demands that I make a decision within a 3:00 time limit. Or whatever the time limit was. Hate it, hate it, hate it.

Stupid computers.

I think I'll buy a Mac in the near future.

One more note... I frogged the gauntlet. Twice. First, because there was an ugly hole in it (dad was distracting me). The second time around, I was one stitch short, or something like that. I'm not sure if it was the yarn bothering my eyes, or if the pattern just wouldn't work for me...

Stupid weather...

I can't go to the streetfest today because it's too hot and humid, and my mom can't take the weather. I don't blame her, but it's such a bummer, because I have money to spend, and my sister really wanted to go to the streetfest.

I'm also angry because my dad was bothering me when I was working on the first gauntlet. First, he distracted me by asking in the bag on the table full of stuff from the dentist was mine. Then, when I was so upset about a mistake in my gauntlet, he said, "Sobbing won't help!" Uh, dad, you don't even knit, so shut up!

Glad that's outta my system :)