hollybrooke: (Crayon love)
Yesterday, I went out to Tinley Park to see what their Illinois Institute of Art campus was all about and to have that meeting with the admissions assistant. Holy moley, it's a small campus! I wouldn't even really call it a "campus" (when you compare it to a more traditional college campus). It's more of a two-story building located off of I-80 that seems more like part of a campus. And the Tinley Park campus is newer, too. But you know, that's good. I'm used to small-ish. IUN was small-ish. Which means class sizes are small-ish and you get more one-on-one time with your instructors.

But the admissions assistant explained how quarters tend to overlap, and they involve summer classes, so it's kind of an accelerated program. I could get what could normally be a four-year program within three-years. (A plus!) And we went over financial aid, which concerns me the most.

I still really have my heart set on CalArts, but I'm still putting my feelers out there. I have a couple other options I'm looking at, but Tinley Park seems like a nice fit. So far.

The admissions advisor gave me directions to get there that involved taking I-80, but I tried MapQuest, and MapQuest gave me these convoluted directions that involved taking lots of backroads through Illinois. And me being a weirdo, I decided to use the MapQuest directions. I was going north on Harlem when I came to US-30. And I was all, "FUCK ME, I could have taken US-30 this whole way?!" No, seriously? Would've been much easier on me! Next time I'll know better! (And it's roughly an hour trip. A little longer than it would be to go to Purdue Cal, but it only takes four gallons of gas, round-trip. Nothing too hard on my Focus. But still. It's something to worry about come winter time.)

But I still feel kind of....bad about it. I have yet to tell either of my parents about these plans, but I don't want to spring the news on them until I'm absolutely sure. I'm very weird about telling them stuff like this (ESPECIALLY Mom). I didn't tell Mom I was going out to Tinley Park to look into art school. Because quite frankly, it's none of her damn business. All she'll do is bitch about it and put in WAY more than her two cents worth, and try to shoot it down. I feel bad about sneaking around like this. But I have my reasons. I really don't trust her judgment, and I don't need</i it, either.
hollybrooke: (Evil Homer)
I had this house pretty well cleaned up, tidied, and smoke-free before Mom and Dad came back from Alabama. The day they came back, I came home from work to find them home...and the house had been turned into a smoke-filled pigsty, I swear to God.

And now the house is a wreck. Dad doesn't pick up any of his shit. Mom can't get around to do any tidying. And anytime I try to straighten up something, I get yelled at by Dad to not move his shit.


IT NEVER ENDS!!!!!!!

Then Mom complains how there's no food that she can eat. Screw her. Before they came home, I made the sure the fridge was stocked with good food and none of the shit she always gets from Aldi's. And here she is, back home, and making a run to Aldi's every other day to spend more money on food that we don't need so she can complain that there's never anything to eat. I bought good, whole wheat bread--she bitches that she hates wheat, she'd rather have crappy white. I bought 1% milk--she bitches that she prefers 2%. I bought unsalted butter--she bitches that she liked the salted kind. WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE?! IT'S STILL BUTTER!!!

Just....go the fuck back down to Hillbillyville. Hunter and I were fairing pretty well on our own and didn't have so much stress with the two of them not around.
hollybrooke: (mature Weekenders)
First of all....Dad got laid off again. Now they're definitely making plans to go down to Alabama. For a month or two, so she says. Mom's all antsy about it. Why--I have no idea. There's absolutely nothing down there, except the few extended relatives we still have and the big WalMart in Andalusia. She's never liked going down there before, but now that Grandma Cozie's gone, she's allll for it. I've just never liked making the trip down there because it's always a family thing and I never get to do anything I like to do. She's going to hate it down there, she won't eat a damn thing down there and will bug Dad every night for Burger King, she'll get sick of the heat, she and Dad already argue all the damn time--I bet it'll be worse when it's just the two of them 24/7, and she'll be calling up here all the time to talk to me or Grandma Julie. And frankly, I refuse to be talking to her every fricking day.

The smart thing for them to do would be to keep their asses up here and for Dad to find a better job. Like I said, the smart thing. But Mom is kind of stupid when it comes to actual work, and Dad just lacks common sense. Yeah, the job market up here sucks, but it's worse down south.

You know, it'd be an excellent opportunity to shove it in her face just how well I can take care of a house on my own and what a craptacular job she does at it. And who knows? With her not around, my stress level may go down, my acne might clear up, and I might be able to lose some weight.

*tangent* I don't want it to seem like I'm not going to the class reunion just because Ami and Matt aren't going. I was feeling very conflicted about going in the first place. It was causing me to have some major anxiety problems (even a bad dream last night), I don't want to have to deal with a lot of those jerks I went to school with, and (the big factor) it'll save me thirty bucks. Plus, it's a freaking cash bar. What a let down. And you know, I bought a cool dress and shoes, too. Buuut, Kevin and I are planning on getting some nice "couple" pictures taken at the bitch's Mom's request, so I have an opportunity to get dressed up now.

*tangent* It's that time of year again...collecting donations for Jerry Lewis' MDA telethon/Aisles of Smiles! I wanna win again this year!

*tangent* My feet HURT. UGH. I'm getting tired of standing in one spot all the time at work.

*tangent* COUNTDOWN: SEVEN DAYS TILL WWE MONDAY NIGHT RAW LIVE IN CHICAGO!

*semi-tangent* Apparently, according to Kevin from the Raw house show in Valparaiso today....if you're in on the joke (like [livejournal.com profile] supermachodude is..), the Mike Chioda Fan Club is now official. And the current roster consists of Kevin, Fester, Ed, Dan, Mark Henry, Gail Kim, Rosa Mendes, Alicia Fox, and of course, Mike Chioda himself. (And me, too, once I get around to signing this sign.) Word from the House Show/Meet and Greet was that John Cena is riding buddies with (*shock!*) Cody Rhodes and Ted DiBiase Jr., and left the freaking CAR DOOR OPEN while getting out. Oh, and Santino Morella was doing burnouts in the parking lot.

*tangent* I found the coolest thing for Kevin for his birthday. *Squee!* Can't wait for it to be shipped!
hollybrooke: (Default)
Update: (a few minutes ago)

I'm searching the fridge for something for lunch BECAUSE MOM ATE THE REST OF MY SANDWICH.
Mom tells me (in the rudest voice possible), "Your father's picking you up a sandwich."
I go to my room. I'm still pissed at her. I really don't want to talk to her.
She tells me that she did NOT appreciate my little outburst this morning.
I tell her she could have at least ASKED.
She says I don't appreciate when she makes me food before I go to work. (Which is very rarely, and I don't even ask.)
I tell her that's not the point, and that she should have at least ASKED.
She tells me it was only a quarter of a sandwich.
I tell that's STILL not the point. All she had to do was ASK. She could've pointed out when asking that it was only a quarter of a sandwich and I MIGHT have said yes, or I could've told her that I was saving it for work. Hell, the whole point of me saving it was because Kevin and I knew we were going to get the free slice of pie (Wednesday at Baker's Square) and I didn't want to make a pig of myself before I got my pie.
She tells me that I still don't appreciate it when she makes food for me before I go to work (like she did with the steak last week; why the hell is she making a big deal over this?!).
I tell her that yes I do, but I'm pissed off because SHE DIDN'T ASK. ALL SHE HAD TO DO WAS ASK FIRST. Hell, when I bring food home and Hunter wants to finish it off, he at least asks me first.
She points out yet again that "it was only a quarter of a sandwich, it wouldn't have filled you up."
I tell her that I only get fifteen minutes for my break. Which includes me going back to the breakroom to get into my locker to get money out of my purse, then going to the deli or wherever to get what I'm going to eat, then I have to go either wait in line to be rang up or go use the u-scans. This eats into my breaktime, which is why I was looking forward to taking something with me today.
She points out YET AGAIN that I do not appreciate when she makes me food. (And why the hell does she keep bringing this up? This has nothing to do with the fact that she ate food that wasn't hers!) She tells me that FINE. I don't have to eat the food SHE buys anymore. (Frankly, this is fine with me because I do all of my own damn grocery shopping and make the majority of my own food anyway, and don't really care for the food she buys because it's all stuff she likes anyway, but I don't tell her that.)

Dad and I were talking about it (since he witnessed that whole thing this morning), and he told me not to expect an apology from her. "Shit, we're nearing in on 30 years being married, and she ain't apologized to me for anything ever," he told me. What the hell?! Did Gramma Julie ever teach her anything about apologizing to others when you do something wrong? Or will Mom just chalk this up to "I HAVE MS! I HAVE BRAIN PROBLEMS!" like she does with everything else?



I just don't know.
hollybrooke: (Epic fail from Edge)
Okay, you come home from going out to dinner, and you bring back what was left over in a bag that was clearly marked with your name on it. You think that anyone else in the house has the sense to not eat what's left in the bag, right? Or you think that anyone else in the house at least bothers to ask you if they can have your leftovers, right?

WRONG! Mom just decided to eat what I had left without even bothering to ask. I wake up this morning and see that the bag is empty. I ask Dad about it, and he said the bag was there with nothing in it. I ask Hunter, and he says the same thing. (Even though I'm suspicious....Hunter has been known to eat leftovers that people bring back from going out without asking.) Then Mom said she ate it. Her excuse? "There was a quarter of the sandwich in there and six fries! That's not going to fill you up!"

Yes, this is probably a really stupid thing to get pissed off over, but I am. Why? The bag was marked with MY NAME ON IT. She could have at least asked me if I would let her have the rest. Hell, at least Hunter has the decency to ask me if I'm going to finish up whatever leftovers I bring back home. (He just eats Mom's shit without asking. *heh*) And Mom knows how pissed off she gets when Hunter eats leftover food that she gets when she goes out with either Dad or Gramma.

What kills me is that she didn't even bother to apologize for it. She just gave me that crap excuse, "There was a quarter of a sandwich in there." BULLSHIT. She could've asked. The worst I could have told her was, "No, I'm saving it for my break at work." I don't care if there's "only a quarter of a sandwich and six fries" in there. I only have fifteen freaking minutes for a break at work. That's not a lot of time to eat. And she didn't even apologize.

What a way to start my damn day, lemme tell ya....
hollybrooke: (go to hell for an eternal minute)
So Mom hasn't been feeling very well lately. She says she feels weak, and she feels she's on the verge of another attack. (I think these are veiled threats that she thinks we aren't pulling our share around the house, when in reality, Hunter, Dad and I are ALWAYS AT WORK.) Dad gave her a verbal smackdown last week that if she needs or wants anything done, she has to open up her mouth and ask one of us. He doesn't want to see her getting up to do anything that's an inconvenience; however, we're not going to know if something needs to be done if she doesn't say something.

You get where I'm going with this?

Okay. I'm 27 years old. I'm an adult. I'm perfectly capable of preparing my own food. Maybe an hour ago, Mom calls from the kitchen and asks if I want a BLT because she just got done making some bacon. She's the one who asked if I was ready for lunch, and she was the one who offered. I said yes, and I came out of my room for a BLT.

She starts muttering under her breath...audible enough for me and Dad to hear..."Her mother's disabled and she's perfectly capable of making her own food, but makes her mother serve her anyway."

Seriously.....WTF?!!!!!

I got pissed and told her if she really felt that way, I wasn't hungry and didn't need a sandwich. Then Dad started laying into her, "Why the hell did you do that?! Why bother making the food and asking Holly if she wanted one if you were just going to say something like that?!" Hunter heard and told Dad that she frequently does stuff like this. Then Dad told Mom that this is why people think she's a giant bitch and don't have much sympathy and compassion for her like they used to.

Oh yeah. Dad let Mom have it. And she had NOTHING to fight back with because she knows Dad's right. But did she apologize to me for what she said/did? HELL no. She never feels she has to apologize for hurting people's feelings; she has MS and has enough problems of her own to care about what she says or does to hurt anyone else. She uses this disease as her scapegoat for being incredibly mean and hurtful to people. I'm tired of it, Hunter's tired of it, Dad's DEFINITELY tired of it.
hollybrooke: (Default)
And I partly blame work and Mom for getting in the way.

Monday, I could've used some time before going to work getting caught up with reading for my classes. But is that how I spent my time? Noooooo. Mom just had to go get grocery shopping done and she just had to drag me with her.

See, this is what I hate about going shopping with Mom. She is incredibly slow, and I know she can't help it; the MS limits her mobility. But I keep telling her, "Make a list, or else you're not going to know what we'll need, and we'll just be wandering around looking for random crap." I can't keep track of what we need to eat. Hell, I'm rarely at home to keep track. I'm the one who's starving here (and Hunter, and Dad). She never makes anything because she never gets off her butt to do anything! And she could always call Grandma to go with her, but I think Grandma has a tendency to get on her nerves. (Gee, like my own mother gets on my nerves? IDK; I love Gramma Julie to bits, even if she can be a pain in the butt.)

I got into it with her again this morning. The ink cartridge for the printer is running low on ink. She said she'd take it to Walgreens yesterday to get it refilled. Did she? No. Hunter and I both kind of need it filled for school assignments. Neither he nor I have the time to get this done. I asked Mom before I left for campus today if she could PLEASE get this done. She gets snotty with me and says, "What? You can't take ten dollars out of YOUR money to get it done?" I told her, "It's not about money, I just flat-out don't have TIME to get it done! I'm leaving for class now at 8 am, and Walgreens isn't even open yet. By the time I get home, the photo department will be CLOSED. Please help me out and get this done."

I just don't have much time outside of school and work for anything. I NEED to be studying because a lot of my classes require the extra effort outside of class. I got a C on my psych test, so I need to bring my grade up in there, and I didn't do so hot on my quiz in international relations. I can't keep bending over backwards for Mom's benefit and let my grades suffer.

Plus, I got a glimpse of my work schedule for next week. I don't have a frickin' day off at all. Monday--work. Tuesday--school all day. Wednesday--work. Thursday--school all day. Friday, Saturday and Sunday--work. I'm not happy with this. My paycheck better look damn good next pay period to make up for this.

Mom needs to either go get some stuff done by herself, or she needs to call Grandma Julie up to help her out. I can't be home all the time to cater to her.
hollybrooke: (Default)
I got this message from *ahem* robdznutz:

"SORRY HOLLY IM AN ASS BUT I THINK YOUR CUTE HEY HIT ME UP LATER IF YOU WANT SORRY BUT IM THE LAST ONE UP OUT OF MY FREINDS I KNOW IM A CHAMP! TALK TO U LATER!!!!!"

Oh, people on MySpace are weird and/or stupid.

In other news, I went to see The Simpsons Movie last night. 'Twas great. Read more... ) All in all, good summer entertainment.

And...they came home. A day early. And let's commence with the bitch-nagging, O Mother Dear!:

"It doesn't look like you guys did much of anything! These are the same dishes that were left in here when we left, I swear to God. There's no food in here! What did you waste that money on?" THE EXACT WORDS OUT OF HER MOUTH WHEN SHE CAME HOME.

What a fucking bitch.

She and Dad should've just STAYED down there an extra few days. It was a nice week with her gone, let me tell you. It's not like Hunter and I did absolutely nothing. Cleaning was done. Food was bought(and eaten; it's not like Hunter and I will just leave food in the fridge to look pretty and serve no purpose, like Mom does). And I don't know if Mom realizes it, but I HAVE A FUCKING JOB. I worked three eight-hour shifts this week while they were gone. And I knew it. Despite all the cleaning Hunter and I would do, she still wouldn't notice or give us any damn credit. I hate her so much.

Time to find a second job for some more money so I can move the fuck out. It was nice with her gone.
hollybrooke: (oh shit flick)
So I've been dealing with this diarrhea since Sunday. Yesterday before I left for school, Mom bitches that she's out of cigarettes and she needs me to go pick some cheap ones up for her. I gave her a major bitching about how I'm not even dressed yet or washed up or anything, and she wants me to go get her cigarettes when I barely even have any gas in my tank. Not to mention it's going to throw off my whole getting-ready-for-the-day-schedule and I have to leave early because if I hit the road by exactly 8 AM, I have to deal with all of the downtown traffic and the schoolbuses clogging things up at the stoplight by Wilco/Speedway/the highschool, and if I'm late for class, then instructors get annoyed and it counts against your participation. Bitch doesn't get it. I was in a pretty pissy mood, so I went into my "You bitch at me that I waste my money on stupid shit, well you waste your money on cigarettes, that's the pot calling the kettle black/you're ruining your own health/you know I've never liked you smoking, hell you couldn't quit after I had fucking lung surgery when I was four years old/when I get lung cancer I'll blame it all on you" rant. And all she can say is "I HAVE BRAIN PROBLEMS, I'M GOING TO DIE ANYWAY!"

But maybe it was a good thing, because about ten minutes before I absolutely HAD to leave, I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth...and I was still feeling bloated and crappy, and I thought to myself, "If I can get out a teeny fart, maybe I'll feel better."

YEAH RIGHT. I CRAPPED MY PANTS. FUCKING DIARRHEA. Had to change my pants and underwear ten minutes before I had to get on the road. But you know, maybe it was a good thing that Mom and her "I NEED MY CANCER STICKS!" deal kept me off. If I had been on the road and shit myself...hell, if I were at school and I had my attack, I would not have been happy at all. Good thing it happened at home.

Then she starts in this morning about how bad the weather's going to be, and "Do you have school today? Maybe you shouldn't go" and "Do you have work tonight? Maybe you shouldn't go" and "If you have to work tomorrow, just call off, it's going to be shitty." And you know, she gets pissy when I have to ask for gas money. She knows I don't earn enough at work while going to school. I sat her down and told her, "You know, people have to work for money. I have a car payment that takes a majority of what I earn. I can't just call off because the weather is shitty. God knows you hate when I ask you to loan me money. Look at Dad. He can't just call off because the weather is shitty; he is a TRUCK DRIVER. People depend on him to transport stuff all over the country. He does it to earn MONEY to SUPPORT US."

*sigh* I don't know. She just doesn't think, you know? She doesn't have to get off her ass to work to support the family. It's not like she can relate to either me or Dad or Hunter. But she expects us to bend over backwards for her. The world can't stop just because she wants it to.
hollybrooke: (usagi stfu)
Mom's being a real bitch about me calling off work tonight. It's not that I WANT to call off tonight--she just doesn't want me going out in this shitty weather.

She makes a point that the roads are going to be absolutely crappy coming home, and that if I got in an accident I'd have to pay the money myself, and I don't have the money for the deductable. She's so fucking pissed off about the insurance and the car (like I'm not pissed off about that stuff on my own anyway) that she hasn't even stopped to consider what would I have to do if I were living on my own and needed to put food on the table and pay the bills. Some people don't HAVE a choice regarding the weather. I mean, look at Dad. He's out on the road, driving a semi-truck to Canada in this weather. He does it to provide for us; if he said he didn't want to do it, then we would lose out on money to pay for the heat and the electricity and for food and all of that stuff we need. Sometimes she just doesn't THINK, I swear to God.

But who the hell is going to be in the mall on a night like this anyway?

See why I need to move out? I absolutely hate it out here in the middle of nowhere, living with my mother.
hollybrooke: (Default)
I swear, people make the biggest deal over just a little snow, even if it's just falling down. It was a wet snow last night, easy to deal with, practically melting as it hit the ground. We got like an inch last night, and some more is coming down, but it's nothing we can't handle. But I was going to work last night up the nine-mile, and the snow was--like I said--melting as soon as it hit the ground, and fuckin' SNOW PLOWS were coming down nine-mile. They really weren't needed. But no snow plows will come down Austin Avenue when we NEED it.

Out of whimsy (and curiosity), I decided to check my horoscope on Yahoo Astrology:
Sagittarius Horoscope: You should find yourself in a fairly good mood, Holly, although you might have a hard time fully expressing yourself completely. Perhaps you feel as if there is someone looming over your shoulder and keeping an eye on your every move. You may feel like a kid in a classroom being watched by the teacher who is acting more like a hungry hawk than a learning facilitator. Don't be intimidated by those who put on a self-righteous air. You have just as much right to speak your mind as anyone.

And now a rant! Yeah, mandatory rehearsals tonight. And as usual, Mom has a bug up her ass about it. Okay, it's not enough that I'm working two jobs just to scrape up SOME sort of income AND going to school at the same time, which pretty much robs me of any sort of social life. (Thank God for the end of the semester.) What the hell?! I'm going to be 23in a couple of days but she still wants to treat me like I'm a kid. I pay for my own gas, I have my car insurance paid, and she has a cow whenever I want to go out and enjoy myself. Sometimes I think she gets jealous because she can't get around that easily and really has no place to go to enjoy herself. All Mom does is sit around and watch daytime TV (soap operas and court television). I'm a busy girl, I WORK, I study, I travel. I need to find my own place to live...preferably by June. (Yes, I'm giving myself a deadline here.)


**fin**

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hollybrooke

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