hollybrooke: (Fluttershy is shy)
Dad has to go in to the hospital to have part of his colon removed in May. He has ulcerative colitis, and this is part of the colon that has accumulated scar tissue. (About a foot's worth.) Hopefully it's nothing worse than that, but I'm scared for him. I trust that the doctors know what they're doing.

He'll be in the hospital for five days, and will be on a six week medical leave from work. He'll be getting medical pay, but I'll have to work a little harder to help make ends meet around here.

It may not seem like it, but I'm more worried about this than I'm letting on.
hollybrooke: (Corona Sun in chalk by Rapunzel)
I feel like I've been neglecting my DW account. Like I said, I was offline for a little over a week, but that's a good thing. This is the time of year when I recognize just how time I spend online and take a little bit of a break. But really, isn't time away from the Internet a good thing?

Valentine's Day came and went. Kevin and I went to the Olive Garden. He's not big on the Olive Garden, so he was brave enough to take me where I wanted to go. He told me about he heard once that some HIV-infected worker jacked off into the salad dressing at one of their restaurants. Did he hear that it specifically happened at the restaurant closest to us? No. Was this a rumor he heard? Probably. Is it a stupid thing to worry about? Yes. But he's "not big on pasta." He later told me that night he was lucky he found that they offered seafood on there.

I'm sorry, but Kevin being a picky eater is kind of a turn-off. *sigh* Oh well.

I got him "Sons of Anarchy" season 3 on DVD and baked him those cookies that he likes. He got me Lady and the Tramp on Blu-Ray and season 9 of "Family Guy" on DVD. He asked me what I wanted, and I was kind of at a loss, because I never know what I want. (Which isn't much, anyway.) But then I opened the "Family Guy" DVD set the next day and there was a flier inside for something I should've asked for instead but totally forgot that SETH MACFARLANE PUT OUT AN ALBUM. GAH, HOW DID THIS ESCAPE ME?!!!

Oh well. I'll order it for myself later on. I've got other stuff to listen to first. I bought the best of the Rat Pack and this four-pack of Sinatra's earlier recordings I need to enjoy first.

Like I said, Kevin's grandmother passed away on Valentine's Day as well. The funeral was last Monday. It was a very Catholic affair, and I felt so confused during the service. I'm an atheist, but I was raised Baptist; I at least know the Lord's prayer, so thank goodness. (I'm not familiar with the invocations that they were doing during the service.)

Might I mention that I'm not terribly open with my secularism. I'm not going to go out of my way to bash other religions or people who believe. I will respect it. Kevin knows how I feel about religion, and I'm lucky I have a BF who's understanding. We had a discussion that if we ever get serious and end up getting married, he wouldn't force me to convert unless I wanted to.

Well, Kevin's relatives from out in Ohio came out for the funeral, so I got to meet all of them, and they're all great and everything. I like his mom's side of the family. And then there was Aunt Nancy. I've only met her once, briefly. Aunt Nancy is the uppity, holier-than-thou member of the family that Kevin and Kathy (his mom) have warned me about. She's nice, but....like I said, holier-than-thou. (Kathy told me not to worry about her because there are members in their family that aren't exactly--as she put it--"practicing Catholics.") So Aunt Nancy corners me at one point before the service and asks me how long Kevin and I have been dating now. "Four years," I answer. She asks what religion I am. I know better to tell her I'm an atheist because quite frankly, I don't want to hear her telling me I'm going to Hell or I'm a heathen and all that jazz. So I told her I was raised Baptist. (Which is true, anyway.) She just gives me this surprised look and then says, "Oh....well, you'll convert, won't you?" I told her that Kevin and I had a talk about that and that he doesn't expect me to, but only if I want to. She says, "Well, I guess we all believe in God, whatever way you worship."

(Hoo boy, Aunt Nancy! Not all of us believe in God, but whatever! I'll just smile and nod politely like Kevin and Kathy told me to do!)
hollybrooke: (Rigby jumping on the bed)
I put in for my second week of vacation time for the week of my birthday, starting December 5th. I didn't have any set plans, but now I'm contemplating tagging along with my parents back down to Alabama for that week.

Why? Because they're finally going to do something about Grandma Cozie's house down there, that's why. They're going to clearing stuff out, getting prices on stuff that they can sell (because she had a lot of antiques), and fixing the house up to sell it. I don't think the house will sell for as much as it's worth, considering how crappy the real estate market has been lately. Oh, and it's also located in the middle of nowhere. If I go with them, I'll probably be without Internet access for the week (even if I get a laptop; there's no Internet access in the house). But I'd just be helping them clear stuff out.

Two of Dad's friends were going to go down with them (because his friend's wife works in real estate and flips houses on the side), but now it doesn't look like that will be going through as planned. So yeah....we'll see if I go with.

The pros? Get away from Indiana for a week. Decent weather down there. Get to go through Grandma Cozie's crap. Get to see some of my relatives down there! Possible side trip to Panama City (who knows what the weather will be like, though).
The cons? It'll pretty much be like an episode of "Hoarders," because you know Mom and I will be at odds with Dad over what goes and what gets kept. Dad will be lazy, and Mom and I will be doing the majority of the work. No Internet access. Southern food (which I have a love/hate relationship with). Already kind of pissed off at Dad as it is. It won't exactly be a vacation if I'm doing work.

Just considering it. But looking at the cons, I think I may be staying up here instead.
hollybrooke: (Rapunzel finishes her painting)
I decided to not go to the open house tonight. This decision really has nothing to do with Dad's tirade last night, but more of the fact that the weather is stormy and windy and getting kind of cold. And frankly, I don't want to be driving around Chicago in weather like this, especially if I'm not familiar with the area. (That, and I don't want to waste a tank of gas.)

I had a hard time sleeping last night, so I'm exhausted anyway. I was hurt and angry over Dad being Dad. Plus, I didn't get to make myself any dinner once I got home from work, so my stomach was all rumbly. And it probably didn't help that I had a Rockstar drink on the way home, so I was good and caffeinated. Oh, and Bo woke me up twice (when I was able to fall asleep) to go out.

But this morning yielded a more rational discussion of last night. Dad is still not entirely cool about the idea, but I really don't care about that. Mom somewhat supports the idea; she's just worried about expenses and whether I can get any financial aid or a job to support myself out there. And they are both somewhat concerned about Kevin's fear/lack of commitment (I am, as well, but that's another story). Meanwhile, I'm still telling them that I haven't even applied yet.

So after rationally thinking about it today....I may end up doing one of the following:
--just finish up whatever classes I need at IUN to get my damn English Lit degree out of the way before I get out to California. Because having that degree would definitely help secure a job to make ends meet out there. (I'm kind of iffy about this, but it's an option.) Or....
--apply with Illinois Institute of Art and go for a semester or two before transferring to CalArts in about a year. Or.... (and this is the option I really don't like, but it's probably for the best)....
--hold off a year in applying and just keep working on my art for my portfolio. Because right now, I'm feeling frazzled and rushed trying to create stuff for it only to be sent off in two or three weeks. (I also have decorating the store and that tree to worry about on top of this.) Quite frankly, I don't want to send in sub-par material for submission. This way, I can get a second job and save save save money before I move out. And this way, I can get some input from current students in the animation program and HOPEFULLY from recently graduated alumni about what I'd have to look forward to in getting work once I'm done.

I get the feeling Dad felt bad about last night, but you know....he really can't take back what he said. He didn't have to be such a dickhead about it.

(Plus, I still need to get cracking on my book. I've hit a lull in the writing process because of the "OMG art school deadline approaching!" thing.) If I can get that published before I apply, that would be great. I'd like to be able to include a copy of the book with my portfolio. :D
hollybrooke: (Mother Knows Best)
Well, I had to get grilled by my father about the whole art school thing. And it was pretty much the same discussion I had with him when I was sixteen and looking into it:


Then came the whole thing about the fact that it's out in California. Guess what that yielded?:


Well, yes, actually. Illinois Institute of Art has been calling for weeks hounding me to apply and enroll ASAP.


News-flash, Dad. Things are expensive anywhere you go anymore!


Get a job, maybe? Like anyone else? I'm 30 years old. It's time for me to get out on my own anyway and fend for myself.


And then for good measure....


It's official. I need to do this. I need to do this just to prove Dad wrong. He doesn't know it, but he has lit the fire under my ass. Now I have an even bigger motivating factor. Prove him wrong.
hollybrooke: (Default)
It's done!! I'm done painting my bedroom walls! It turned out so nicely! I'll try to get pics up soon once my room is cleaned up and I get some new shelving units in here in the next month or so.

I never realized how much CRAP I have until I decided, "Hey, I want to repaint my bedroom." I mean, I had a good idea, but GOOD LORD. It doesn't help that my dresser and desk and queen-sized bed take up the majority of space in here. I kind of want a smaller-sized bed, to be honest. A full-sized would be ideal. Kevin jokes around that if I ever get rid of my bed, he'd gladly take it off my hands "because it's so comfy." Ha ha, his room is smaller than mine. He'd barely be able to move around with all the stuff he has.

*tangent* Oh my freaking God, I can't WAIT for Halloween. I have to get started putting my costume together soon. I won't be able to wear it to work on account of it being kind of...well, skimpy. (It is a ballerina costume, after all.) But I'll be going to Help Me Mommy's Rocky Horror Halloween show, and maybe another party, so I want to dress up. I don't care if I'm 30. I'm starting to feel like my good ol' festive self again. :)

*tangent* Well, Jessica moved out and she and Hunter broke up. (Again.) Hunter tried to paint it like she was the one who did the "dumping" and gave some excuse about how if she stayed with him, she'd never be able to live to her potential. And Hunter agrees, really. We all do. And he said that yeah, he's sad about it, but he's not exactly heartbroken over it.

But there was a lot more to it than that. Read more... )

*sigh* Enough about that. That's been the drama that we've been dealing with here for the last week.

*tangent* Kevin was asked to step down from his position at his job. He's now second-shift IMS, and he's got a weird work schedule now, but after one day of doing IMS work, he said it's definitely not as stressful now. Maybe it's for the best.
hollybrooke: (Pissed off)
Mom had an appointment with the new doctor she's been seeing for her....ahem, "multiple sclerosis." I put it in quotes like that because according to this doctor, she may not even have multiple sclerosis AT ALL. Mom said he took a look at her records, looked dumbfounded, and asked her who exactly diagnosed her with MS. This new doctor says she may just have suffered from a series of mini-strokes and not MS, and mini-strokes are treatable.

.............IT MAY NOT BE M.S.

Twenty years of being treated for it, suffering from it physically and emotionally and financially. And not just Mom. ALL OF US. That shit trickles down and affects those you love. Dad, Gramma Julie, and me and Hunter. Hunter could've had a somewhat normal childhood with a somewhat active mother because of their mistake. I wouldn't have had so many problems with her because of their mistake. She's Gramma Julie's daughter. And Dad's had to put up with so much. Just.............GOD, how can you make an accident like that?!

So yeah. When those tests come in, she and Dad will be looking for a lawyer to sue the pants off that doctor who gave her the MS diagnosis.

The new doctor told her that mini-strokes are treatable, which means she'll have to cut down on the coffee and quit smoking. (Which made me smirk on the inside. WHAT HAVE I BEEN TELLING HER FOR YEARS?!) And she'll have to go to therapy for a little while, and she'll have to just get out and not be pent up inside the house long-suffering. He's not going to treat her for depression and give her a bunch of drugs to numb the pain and NOT actively treat it (YAAAAY).

So. You know what this means? I won't have to feel so bad when I go away to art school!!!!! I won't have to stay around and be forced to help take care of her anymore!!!!
hollybrooke: (The Bird is equal to or greater than the)
Somehow, Hunter managed to sneak onto my computer and upload a steaming pile of crap as my background wallpaper. What a lovely surprise to see when I fired up my PC this morning. It was soooo funny, I forgot to laugh. I'm probably more angry about it than I should be, but let me put it this way. I certainly don't go logging onto other people's computers and doing stuff like that. I'm just saying.

It's kind of immature for a 21-year-old to do, and it makes me feel like he has no respect for me at all.
hollybrooke: (Mother Knows Best)
I got a call from the Illinois Institute of Art admissions today, because I sent off for some more information. And the woman who called and talked to me about why I wanted to go back to school now and for art instead of what I was going to school for before was very nice. And I'll be talking with her again on Saturday to set up a trip to tour the campus (since I'll know what my work schedule will look like by then).

And I really should've put my cellphone number down instead of the home number because MOM answered the phone, and as soon as I got off the phone with the woman from admissions, she started asking me what that was all about. And it's really sad that I feel like I can't talk to Mom about this sort of thing. All she'll do is just shoot it down! She's never been very supportive of that sort of thing. I shouldn't have to be so secretive about it, but she just wouldn't understand. When I go back to school, I'm not going to be going back to IUN or Purdue Cal. And I'm not going to be doing what she wants me to do with my life. I don't want to be a doctor or a nurse. I think I probably could be a pretty damn good lawyer (especially after watching all this Casey Anthony stuff on HLN and TruTV), but that's not really my heart's desire. And I don't think I'm really cut out for a career in journalism, either. I got burned out with that stuff.

All I've ever really wanted to do since I was a kid was to draw and make cartoons. (Certainly not wasting my life stuck behind a grocery store register, ringing up groceries and having to put up with rude customers with a fake smile on my face.) It's the equivalent of...say, Rapunzel's floating lights. It's one of those lofty dreams that you want more than anything but seems so far out of reach because of a overbearing parent shooting those dreams down.
hollybrooke: (Eat your strudel and STFU)
So the other day, I was washing dishes, and I was washing a coffee cup that had a sizeable chip in the rim. And while washing that one, it got in between my right pinky and ring finger and cut it. It wasn't a huge cut and it didn't bleed much, but I can definitely feel it. Currently, my right hand is feeling suspiciously sore. Hopefully it's from me being on the computer too much or from being so busy on the registers at work, and NOT from potential nerve damage from that dumb accident.

And you know what really ticks me off about it? If that damn coffee cup had a chip in it, why the hell didn't Dad just...I don't know, THROW IT AWAY?!!!! I swear, he has a serious problem when it comes to throwing stuff away or getting rid of stuff that we don't need. I came home today from work, and that kitchen was a flat-out pigsty. And he was laying on the couch in his underwear, watching the Encore Western channel. Guess who had to clean up the mess he made because he didn't feel like doing it?

The kitchen is a pigsty, the bathroom is always grubby, the basement keeps getting stuff stacked up in it, the living room just has junk strewn about, and no matter how hard I try to keep things clean and tidy....*bites knuckle*.........can't have nice things!

Then the kicker. He's all, "I'm going to Dairy Queen to get something for your mom. Do you want anything?" I'm not hungry (and I'm trying to lose weight), so I told him no. He comes back with something for me anyway: one of those waffle-cone sundaes. I told him thank you, but I wasn't hungry. He's all, "Well, go ahead and have it anyway!" I told him, "Well, I'll put it in the fridge for later then." He's all, "Well, if you put it in the fridge, it won't be as good later." I told him that was fine with me because I wasn't all that hungry anyway. Then he gets kind of shitty with me and tells me, "Holly, just EAT IT."

I haaaaaaaaate when he pulls shit like this. He practically FORCE-FEEDS ME. God, does he WANT me to STAY FAT?! I didn't even ask for one! He could've saved money by not getting me one as per my request and NOT have had this problem! What is WRONG with him?!

Oh, I can't wait till I move out.
hollybrooke: (Mother Gothel's bitchface)
Mine was pretty decent. I did pretty much all of the cooking and cleaning this year, which wasn't that bad but I sure was exhausted afterwards. The best part of it all was during Easter dinner, Mom was going on and on about how she's been the one doing all the cooking for the last 30 years or something like that. And she was pretty much acting like she was the one who did allllll the work this year as well. Then Dad told her, "To be honest, Holly did the majority of the cooking this year. All you did was make the potato salad and talk Holly through preparing the ham."

YEAH. Dad totally owned Mom. Two points for Dad. ;)

And seriously? I need to really, REALLY get on the ball trying to exercise and eat right. Two days later, and I'm still feeling Easter dinner. Plus, it doesn't help that I'm PMSing like a mofo right now.
hollybrooke: (Default)
Christmas was okay. Nothing spectacular this year, really. And yet, it was the second year in a row we celebrated at Gramma Julie's without Mom and Dad. Mom claimed she wasn't feeling well and didn't want to make the trip to Gramma's. Right around the corner and down the road. Hunter was pissed at Mom. Gramma was slightly disappointed. Me? I wasn't surprised. Frankly, I don't blame Mom. Because of the MS, she gets drained of her energy over the tiniest things. And considering how much it snowed for the holidays....you think a woman of her condition is going to want to leave the house to deal with the snow and relatives who are letting her down left and right?

Oh, that last part?! HOO boy, let me tell you about that.

Well...we let TJ (my 18-year-old cousin) have the '91 Explorer for free for his 18th birthday back in October. FOR FREE. Because he and my "Aunt" Diane do nothing but bicker, and Mom said she wanted him to have the car so when he turned 18, he could just take off and Diane couldn't do shit about it because he had a car of his own. (Yeah, we don't care for Diane that much. The word "divorce" keeps getting thrown around whenever we talk to Troy about it.) We heard last week that he pretty much totaled the car by sliding off into a ditch on some black ice. The story he told us on Christmas Day--with no Mom around--was that he totaled it on purpose so he could trade it in.

Mom heard about that from me and Hunter, and BOY, IS SHE PISSED. And I don't blame her. She said she could've sold that car and taken the money from that as a down-payment for a NEW car for Hunter after his car accident last year so he doesn't have to drive around in Grandma Cozie's Freestyle anymore. (The ABS on that is pretty much shot after Hunter went off in the ditch on the 12th coming home from work. That day we got the messload of snow when I called off.)

Oh, and Sandy and her BF never showed up. Turned out they were stuck in Indy an hour later than expected, so they were just going to bypass Gramma Julie's. GOOD. We all know how I felt about the whole Sandy situation. More food for us this year. Hunter pigged out on the shrimp cocktail and spinach-artichoke dip to compensate.

Diane didn't show up. Typical. Now Troy is telling us she's moving to Arizona for a month to collect unemployment while he'll be moving out. For GOOD, we hope. Either shit or get off the pot. Why is Diane moving to Arizona? For a month? Arizona is allegedly where her new lover lives. For a month? Well, I can't explain that.

But other than that, Christmas wasn't that bad. I just wasn't really looking forward to it that much this year. My haul was decent, considering I didn't ask for much.

--Mom was prepared to cut me a check for my Christmas present, but I told her to hold off on that because my winter boots are supposed to be coming in any day now. I'll consider that my Christmas gift from her and Dad. I don't want them wasting any more money on me that they need to save.
--Hunter got me Family Guy and Philosophy: A Guide for the Petarded. FREAKING SWEEEET.
--Jessica got me a PILLOW PET!! The ladybug! I can't tell you how giddy that makes me feel. And it's cute, too. (It goes with my Pascal plushie so well. :P )
--Gramma Julie gave me $25.
--Nothing from Troy and Diane. (Frankly, I don't care.) Well, the family got these "Yule Logs" that I'm pretty sure was the free gift from their $50+ purchase from the Swiss Colony. You know what these "Yule Logs" are? Glorified Hostess Ho-Hos. Yeah. Pissed Mom off even more.
--From Kevin's mom? Labyrynth on Blu-Ray. AWESOME!!!!!!!! Kathy is great. Love her.
--Kevin got me "Mad Men" season 2, "American Dad" seasons 1 and 2, and.....the Tangled soundtrack. Uh-oh, I got that as soon as it came out. Now I knew I was getting "Mad Men" and "American Dad" because I saw Kevin pick those up when we went shopping at FYE. But dammit, I should've TOLD him I got the Tangled soundtrack the day it came out. He wanted to surprise me!

(See? My BF feeds my obsessions. I'm already fixing to keep growing my hair out next year and dye it blonde and get some green contacts, and he can keep his goatee and ditch his glasses. We're gonna be Rapunzel and Flynn Rider next year for Halloween, YEAH!!!!! And he doesn't even know it yet!)

I took it back to Best Buy and got $13.90 in-store credit for it. I'm going to put it towards Rocky Horror on Blu-Ray when I get my paycheck this week. I at least told Kevin about it, but I feel bad that I ruined that surprise. :(


I have, like, NO CLUE what I'm doing (with Kevin?) for New Year's Eve.


Susan put in her two weeks' notice at work. DAMMIT. She's one of my favorite co-workers. Everyone that was hired around the same time (or prior to me) at that place are LEAVING. I CAN'T stay there much longer, I JUST CAAAAN'T.
hollybrooke: (Default)
A few days ago, Mom was semi-fretting about how we didn't have a Christmas present for my "Aunt" Diane (I use the term loosely because the word "divorce" keeps getting thrown around between her and Uncle Troy) and my stepcousin Sandy. (You know, the one who graduated from IU this year.) So I told Mom not to sweat getting either one of them anything. For one thing, Diane NEVER shows up for Christmas with our side of the family, but we go out of our way to make sure we include Sandy and give her a little something. For another thing....I'm sorry, but when Sandy comes, she......ARGH, she's just the constant irritation for me every Christmas that she's everything I'm not. She's tall, skinny, blonde, tan, got to be a cheerleader popular girl in high school, got to go away to college and be a sorority girl wearing Abercrombie and Fitch crap. And when she comes for Christmas with Troy and TJ, here's what she does: she pigs out on the spinach-artichoke dip and shrimp cocktail, collects her little present, spends the majority of the time texting on her new cell phone and barely engages in conversation with us. Then two hours later, it's off to her other grandparents' on her mom's side of the family to collect more presents. I can't STAND it. To me, she just comes off as spoiled. And Mom agrees. I think it bothers Mom more because Diane does NOT come with them to Gramma Julie's, and it's like she sends Sandy with so she can collect whatever they're supposed to get.

I told Mom not to sweat getting Diane or Sandy anything for these reasons alone, and how we bitch about it every Christmas, and if it really bothers us, then this should be the year that all Sandy gets is a Christmas card because she is an ADULT now. She's a big girl. She graduated from college and is living in either Chicago or Indianapolis now. And it's not like she ever brings us Christmas presents. And especially if Diane never bothers to include herself in our annual family gathering....you know?! And Mom thanked me for putting it all in perspective for her because she knew I was right, and we gripe about this EVERY YEAR at Christmas.

Here's the point I'm trying to get at. We've had a very lean year as a family. Dad's been unemployed for the majority of the year. We barely had much of a Christmas this year for us. I bought for Mom, Dad, Hunter, Gramma Julie, Kevin, his mom, his grandma, and his Aunt Mary (his Aunt Mary always gives me a little unexpected something, so yeah). My Christmas budget was kind of tight this year, and in return, I don't really expect much and it doesn't really bother me. This may very well be a part of growing up...I don't know.

Christmas should not be about giving or getting, to be completely honest. It should be about having a day with your family and being grateful for what you have. Heck, I'm grateful that I get the day off of work today. And I'm really sick and tired of Sandy just showing up to eat, text and run off after two hours. And I'm even more sick and tired of Diane never showing up.

So today I hear that Sandy is coming to Christmas this year with us after all. With her new boyfriend. Great. Can't wait to see how stereotypically hunky he is and what kind of great career he has. I won't be doing anything with Kevin until he's done celebrating Christmas with his family at his cousin's out in Hobart. Which I was invited to, and he was invited to Christmas with us (he knows he's always welcome). But dammit all to hell with Sandy and HER PERFECT LIFE. I almost don't want to go to Gramma Julie's now because of her. AAAARGH.


Sorry about the ranting to bring down the Christmas cheer. I just really needed to get that off of my chest. Can't stand Sandy.

On the good side...work wasn't so bad yesterday. It was a madhouse, of course, but you know what? I really wasn't sweating it. I just paced myself and handled it pretty well. I had some jerk older customer at the beginning of my shift give me attitude about IDing him for booze, but oh well. Get over it, older dude. Maybe that law will get repealed and you won't be so inconvenienced anymore. And I only worked five hours, which wasn't that bad. The time FLEW.

Made a crapload of Christmas cookies last night. Lots of chocolate chip and snickerdoodles. Was going to make sugar cookies, too, but I got tired. I got Family Guy and Philosophy from Hunter (yeah!), and I'll be getting new snow boots from Mom and Dad, but they're still on backorder. They'll probably come in this week. I also got two Weezer albums from Dan and Becky, of all people. Didn't expect that, and they really didn't have to get me anything. (Hurley and Death to False Metal, for anyone who's interested.)

Anyway, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all!
hollybrooke: (NOT AMUSED)
Mom and I have been nagging and harping on Dad to QUIT LETTING BO OUT TO RUN AROUND NOT ON THE LINE IN THE EARLY MORNING HOURS for about a month now. Dad argues and that Bo needs exercise (he does) and he needs adventure (...maybe), and has totally been not listening to our griping about why Bo needs to stay on the line or a leash when he goes out. There are leash laws, he'd potentially get hit by a car, he likes to charge after UPS and garbage trucks when they drive by, the list goes on and on. We warn Dad, and he doesn't pay attention, figures if he lets Bo out late at night, it won't bother people so much.

Well, Dad let Bo out a little early last night, and we got a neighbor over here at around 10 PM complaining about it. About time, really, because if Dad's not going to pay attention to either me or Mom and make us out to be the bad guys, then maybe he needs his ass torn into by a neighbor whom we don't know all that well. Oh, and Dad got pissed at me when I told him, "I told you so!" right in front of the neighbor. And you know what? I DON'T CARE! I humiliated him in front of the neighbor? Fine! The point is, we tell him and tell him and tell him, and he just doesn't care and doesn't listen. What's it going to take, for Animal Control to come out here and slap him with a fine?

So yeah. Mom and I are pretty pissed off with Dad right now.
hollybrooke: (Pretty braid)
So I was thinking tomorrow I may go for a haircut.

Mom doesn't want me to get it cut. I think she would rather me keep growing it out and have hair like Brooke Shields' in The Blue Lagoon.

It's getting there, but it just kind of gets to be a pain in the butt to deal with when it gets past a certain length, like where it is now.

It's my hair. I'm going to do what I like with it. And if I want to get two or three inches trimmed to straighten it out, then I'll just do that. I'll be 30, for crying out loud. Time for a more "grown-up" look. Mom always raises a stink whenever I hint that I'm going in for a haircut: "Oh, you should just leave it alone! It looks so pretty now, and it's getting so long!" Why do parents always have a problem when their children get their hair cut?

(Yeah, I had to. It's just kind of appropriate. Not like my hair glows when I sing or whatever.)

She also kind of doesn't want me going out to celebrate tomorrow, either. I was planning on a day trip up to Chicago, or maybe even shoot up to the Orland Square Mall in Orland Park. But it's supposed to be pretty damn cold tomorrow. So what? It's just cold. It's not like there will be a blizzard or whatever. It's not like I've never dealt with the cold before.
hollybrooke: (Neo Queen Serenity)
To be honest, not a whole lot has been going on lately. I'm still fighting the good fight at work, hating the job and everything that comes along with it. Home life is still just as irritating. And my 30th birthday is coming up in less than a month...and the depression sets in.

I thought I would be moved out and away from my family by now. I really did. But I'm pretty much living paycheck to paycheck because of bills. I still feel that I'm wasting my time at SVT. I also feel that my parents don't expect me to move out anymore and constantly rely on me to do shit for them, and I still feel underappreciated around the house, and it's really pissing me off. I haven't been able to get a second job to earn some side cash. And things with Kevin are okay, but that's just it. They're okay. We've been together for about three years now, and sometimes I don't think he takes the relationship very seriously.

To top it all off, the holidays are just around the corner, and to be completely honest, I'm not looking forward to them at all this year. I feel this year, customers are going to be even more irritated and cranky to deal with than before. And then to add insult to injury...let's put it this way. I work in a very conservative town where everyone lives by the rules of the church. Lately, I've just been questioning my own faith. I don't even know what I believe in anymore. And I feel if I were to tell anyone this, they'd just barrage me with a bunch of pro-Christian stuff to try to reinforce my belief in Christ, and...that just ain't cutting it for me anymore. That "God has a plan" stuff really doesn't make you feel any better when it looks like everything's going to shit. If this is God's great plan, to be living as an indigent under my parents' roof while working for just a little over slave wages at a crummy grocery store where I have to deal with stupid cranky people on a daily basis and watching my mother's neurological disease slowly get worse, I don't like it.
hollybrooke: (I LOVE LUCY)
I haven't had a proper update post in a while around here. Not a whole lot has been happening on my end, but here's the gist of what's been going on.

Dad finally got a job! He was called back to Roadway, but he actually got a maintenance position with Macsteel in Chicago. This way, he has a more steady work schedule and he's not on the road all the time. But he's still driving us nuts around the house.

*tangent* My work schedule still sucks. I'm schedule to come in on Halloween at 9:45 AM. I'll be at the Art Theater for the Halloween showing of Rocky Horror the previous night, so I'll be a nice cranky mess that morning. And they have me for a midnight shift this coming Friday. UGH.

*tangent* Speaking of Halloween, I really need to get on the ball and work on Kevin's Halloween costume. (Note to self: stop by Factory Card Outlet and see if they have kazoos.)

*tangent* I posted about it over at [livejournal.com profile] customers_suck. I had a customer a couple of days ago make a crack about my acne. He told me I "should get my rosacea taken care of." I told him it's adult acne, not rosacea. He tells me, "No, that's rosacea, I should know, I've worked in pharmaceuticals for over 30 years. You should get it taken care of."

You know...why can't people just keep their fucking mouths shut about the way I look?! And I was having a good skin day, too. I've been using the Murad acne complex system for the last two weeks and so far, so good. (We'll give it two more weeks for my 30-day trial.) But when you feel the need to give me unsolicited advice about my skin condition and have the nerve to tell me, "Don't take it personally"....well, too late. You don't know me, and you don't know how unsettling it is to hear shit like that from total strangers and how self-conscious I am about my face in the first place. But yeah, he really angered and upset me to the point where I was crying about it. Why do all the asshole customers have to come to my register?

*tangent* On a good note, I've lost five pounds! *does the happy dance*
hollybrooke: (Rapunzel and Pascale)
And when I mean "serious problem," I mean it's bordering on a psychological issue that is fucking DRIVING ME NUTS.

This morning, I got up to fix myself some breakfast. He's fart-assing around in the kitchen, like he's cleaning up or something, but he's not. Cold, dirty dishwater is in the sink, dishes are soaking in it. On the counter amongst the loaves of bread that aren't in the breadbox, I find an empty box that the sticks of butter come in just laying there. Not in the garbage or anything. So I fix myself my breakfast--a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. I used up the rest of the orange juice, so I threw the bottle in the garbage. I take my breakfast to my room and eat it. When I'm done, I come back out to take care of my dishes when I see it--the orange juice bottle that I just threw in the garbage has been taken out and laying on the washing machine, on top of the pile of newspapers.

It's not like we are a green family or anything, and it's not like my dad believes in taking shit to the recycling bins a few miles away. He's just a freaking GARBAGE PICKER. He will hang on to shit like this in a vain attempt to reuse it (like with milk gallon jugs and coffee containers), and he won't do shit with it. He'll just let them build up in the garage because he thinks he'll be able to reuse it when it's JUST GARBAGE.

And he has a problem with throwing stuff away in the garbage. I don't know why it is. If, say, a box of cereal is used up, he can't just throw it away in the garbage can. He'll just leave it on the counter, like a pig.

And it's not like the kitchen is sparkling clean despite these little things. The kitchen is kind of a fucking pigsty. It's bordering on him have a hoarding problem, or a cleanliness problem. And heaven forbid you touch or clean up any of his piles or else he'll bitch at you for it, because you moved something he won't be able to find later.

Is there ANY sort of professional I can consult about this? Because it's becoming a serious problem. We can't live in a clean, organized home with him because of this shit, and it's driving both me and Mom absolutely NUTS.
hollybrooke: (Mickey Mouse)
So Dad's been all gripe-y about the food I buy and have had in the fridge since they've been in Alabama. Two days ago, he got pissed because I don't have any beef stroganoff Hamburger Helper in the cupboard. (Ew, ick, nast, I'll NEVER eat that shit. Beef stroganoff, that is. No problems with Hamburger Helper, just not beef stroganoff.) Today he gets pissed because I don't use Thousand Island dressing and don't have any in the fridge. Salad dressing I dothey want, then they need to make a list and give me their money and I will buy it for them. But as far as other groceries go? What I buy is what I eat. And if they eat what I buy, I will be a bitch. Deal with it.

Which is why I buy the expensive fat-free milk (Fair Oaks). It's the only way I can guarantee I will get any sort of milk, because I know they won't touch the fat-free stuff.

They need to understand that I don't like the things they like!

Ugh, can't want till I have enough saved up to move out.
hollybrooke: (Neo Queen Serenity)
Well, I made the post on Facebook a couple of days ago, so if you didn't see it, yeah. Kevin's dad passed away early Thursday morning. Today's the visitation and memorial service. (There's not really going to be an actual funeral. He's being cremated, and the process won't be done until Tuesday.)

And now the part that scares me. See, things with me and Dan kind of started going downhill after his brother died. And sometimes I wonder if I would still be with Dan if his brother were still alive today. (Probably not.) So I'm a little worried about how things will be with me and Kevin, now that he's lost an immediate family member as well. I hope not. I really hope not. I just don't want the same sort of thing to happen.

But there's a world of difference between Dan's family dynamic and Kevin's family dynamic. Dan was very much a mama's boy. Both he and his brother kind of were. But I think a lot of that had to do with the fact that they were both adopted. And I wasn't really thrilled with the fact that after his brother died, he decided he would move back out to Illinois with his parents and the suggestion was made that I could come out every other weekend and visit. (I was the one doing allll the traveling back and forth from Lowell to Portage in the first place.) From what I understand, Dan and Becky still live in the same house as Dan's parents (in their little downstairs apartment). Kevin's parents were divorced, and even though Kevin was living with his mom for a while and with his dad until this happened....let's put it this way. At least he's been moved out on his own before, away from either his mom or dad. (Whether it was with Fester in the trailer, or with Walter out in Hammond...)

I don't know, I could analyze this until the cows come home. But I don't want to ramble too much. (That, and I still need to get ready for the service.) Kevin's holding up all right. He told me his mom was having a hard time processing it, though.

Mom and Dad were asking me a little bit more about it. His dad was 58. We figured it out, and we realized that Paw-Paw (my grandfather, Dad's dad) was about 55 when he passed away. And he had prostate cancer. So yeah, that sounds about right. And I think Dad's a little freaked out because he's 51 and having problems with his colon. In any event, I know I'm kind of freaked out. I'm pushing 30, and Mom had her first MS attack on her 30th birthday. I've got a history of cancer in my family (Paw-Paw, Grandma Cozie, Great-Grandma Louise), and I may possibly carry the gene for cystic fibrosis. It's kind of scary to think about.

...My head hurts.


hollybrooke: (Default)

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