The Christmas Party

Yep.  Our annual Christmas party was yesterday.  It was pretty cool as far as these parties go.  But Frank Thorn didn’t do his Santa Claus and pass out the gifts!  It didn’t bother me as much as it may seem, but it did get me a bit.  I mean, he’s done the Santa routine ever since I was a little kid.

I mostly either stayed up in my room, or was down in the living room talking with Dan, Denny, Mike, Bryan, Colleen, and Shannon while she was here.  She came late and had to leave early, so yeah, that kinda sucked.  We didn’t even make it halfway through Encore.

::Sighs::  I don’t know what it is lately, but lately it’s just been an honest to God RELIEF to get away from Mike.  I mean, we had a whole miscommunication, (frankly, on his part.  I was never told anything on it,) just before we started playing Encore, and the first thing I said when we sat down to play was, “I don’t care what the teams are as long as I’m not on one with him!”  And I pointed at Mike.  Honestly, I am just so sick of him.  I mean, he’s just always freakin; THERE, either trying to give me a completely unwanted hug, or bothering me about some stupid web comic that I couldn’t care less about, or talking about hackers on some site that he plays a web game on.  Basically, just all-around bothering me when I’m trying to do something constructive with my time.  Or if I just want downtime after I get back from work, or something like that.  I mean, he sits there, bothering the Hell outta me when he’s sitting right in front of me, yet when I say, “Okay, you wanna talk, go and sign on.  I can multi-task then,” he’ll sign on, and say NOTHING!!!

What the freakin’ Hell???  I mean, he wants to babble away to me, why can’t he do it when we’re both on IM???

Oh, and this is the “best” part.  His bird starts squawking at like, 7:30 in the morning a couple of days ago.  I woke up with a headache, and the only reason I woke up was because of his stupid bird.  Well, he doesn;t want me to do anything about getting him to shut up, so what am I supposed to do?  I get Mike.  Well, he keeps insisting, “Just a minute,” “just a minute,” “I’ll be right up.”  But he never is!!  And frankly, no, I’m not gonna put up with the damned bird squawking!  When it comes down to it, they’re both just long-term guests in this house, and that can change.  They can both go back up to his dad and grandma’s for all I care sometimes.  Cuz if it’s a choice between him being out of the room doing something with me, or shutting that damned bird up, and not having me listen to something that grates on my nerves, hurts my head, and just all around makes me want to serve the bird in a stew, then I’ll take him leaving wherever he is to shut him up.

Honestly, sometimes I wish he would.  Just pack up and live in Cranford for awhile.  Let him mess up their house for once.  I mean, no, I’m not the neatest person in the world, far from it, if truth be told.  But never has my room gotten so bad that Seeda the Hut was in one corner!  And yeah, I laughabout that, I make it seem like a joke, but you kno what?  It’s really not.  Thta room is disgusting, it’s resembled his apartment for awhile now, and their apartment was absolutely the most disgusting place I’ve ever seen.  I honestly don’t know how they lived in it for as long as they did.  It makes a Hell of a lot more sense now why Mike got sick as often as he did.  Hell, it’s a miracle he lived through having pneumonia.

I mean, I honestly find it sad that the one I had so many conflicts with, and couldn;t say a nice thing about for so long is the only one that I will give credit to for moving forward in life, and actually planning on doing something with it.  Mike’s mom, yeah.  Right.  She became a meat cutter/server and is now rutted in that generla line of work.  Not to mention she brought financial ruin upon herself pulling her little stunts.  Mike’s dad could be any number of things, frankly, but he can never sit down and focus on one thing long enough to stick with it.  I mean, where’s the importance of job searching when he has *another* picture to download?  ::as sarcasm drips of my page . . . ::  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Yeah, he’s disabled.  So f*ckin’ what?  Beethoven was deaf, and composed symphonies.  My grandfather was blind, and tuned pianos, climbed out on roofs to fix them, and built my swingset when I was a kid.  Hell, his own father still worked at the store that he began.  And that was after the amputations, the stroke, the partial blindness, the paralysis on half his body . . .  And Mike’s dad’s excuse is what now?

My mom works in an office not too far from the house.  She sits at a desk and makes phone calls all day, as do all the other people who work there.  She doesn’t have to get up unless she needs to run something upstairs, or go to the bathroom.  Now, explain why Mike’s dad couldn’t do a job like that.  The only plausible excuse that he has is lack of transportation, especilaly at night.  But even that’s not a fully acceptable excuse, because it doesn’t mean you don’t try for a job.  I mean, Mike claimed to me that his dad said he intended on being out of the house, and in his own place once again within two years of moving out of the apartment.  Well, it’s two year this February.  And he’s nowhere near moving out.  Honestly, I don’t see him managing it, period.

And then Mike!  He was going to attend Berkely, the branch up in Woodbridge.  He took some kind of scholarship test or something like that there, and actually got $1500 to put towards tuition.  But did he ever do anything about it?  No!  God only knows if it’s still there.  I doubt it, considering this was about four years ago.  He was going to be a computer science major.  He was going to have his education done by such and such time.  He was going to enroll in Brookdale again, what was it, two semesters ago, at this point?  True, he changed his major, he’s decided to open a game store now, so he’ll have to get a degree in business.  But how long do you think that goal’ll last?

I’m just so sick of him deciding to let everyone walk all over him.  Because I realized something.  All of those, “What would you do things,” or “I’d do this if this happened,” those aren’t our real reactions.  Those are our ideal reactions.  That’s what we’d want to do.  But in most cases, it’s not what we’d actually do.  So many times, so many people, just say these things because we want so much to believe it’s what we’d do, and we tell ourselves that to inflate our egos.  Admittedly, I’m guilty of it, too.  But I also think that I’ve accomplished what I say I will more times over than him.  No, it’s not a competetion, but when he says he’s gonna do somethi

ng, no, I don’t bother to believe it anymore.  I’m not going to give him any support or any help, or any whatever, because frankly, I honestly don’t believe that he’ll make it happen.

And of course, my mom needs to check E-mail, because my parents can’t get a damned internet explorer link thingy on their computer, so I have to sign off.