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The Travelling Loony Bin
Jan. 11th, 2009 09:36 amI feel like I should write something about the trip to Italy other than "OMGITALYGABYCYNTHIAMYBRAINOMGPRINGLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!," but I can't really verbalize how much fun I had seeing two of my favorite people EVER in the history of EVER and exploring a foreign country with them. Suffice it to say that despite illnesses and crazy people and having our crowd virginity thoroughly sullied in the Piazza Majore on New Year's, I had a jolly good time and I hope that my partners in crime did too. *hugs them both to bits*
As for what's going on in the real world... I don't even know.
My car died in a shower of sparks and a puff of smoke. Fun? (Don't worry, it's mostly fixed now.)
My apartment building got sold to apparent slum lords three days before Christmas. Funner?
Lizzie has thoroughly invaded the only place in my Father's house I could even begin to claim as my own, leaving me with no refuge amidst the family's collective crazy. Funnerer?
My birthday dinner was the single most traumatic holiday experience of my life between the sudden appearance of the Crack Lady at the restaurant, Lizzie critiquing my clothes, Cheryl gloating over being with papa in a truly sickening way, Richard saying things that were wildly inappropriate and make me want to slap him silly, and the revelation that Papa proposed to Cheryl while chaperoning my Winter Ball dinner all those years ago.(1) Absolute fucking funnest.
You guys, I'm pretty determined to have a good 2009. I'm trying really hard not to overreact to any of these things and smile at the irony of it all. But seriously? If this keeps up I'm flying to Tahiti while the flying is fair and never coming back.
I need to schedule appointments with the nice young people in clean white coats. Hopefully they'll figure out a way to make this mess work. I'll no longer live at the side of the ups and downs, but if I can get through this semester intact that might be a fair price to pay.
Alright, I'm off to buy books. Ta, lads and ladies. I miss you all.
(1) I'm not sure I'll ever forgive Papa for actually marrying her. I don't really like Cheryl. I think Richard is a twit. The only part of that house that I can be in for more than an hour is my room and I don't even have that now. Oh, and if I hear one more bit of twee happy-families, "this feels so right" bollocks from Cheryl ever again, I swear I'm going to puke.
As for what's going on in the real world... I don't even know.
My car died in a shower of sparks and a puff of smoke. Fun? (Don't worry, it's mostly fixed now.)
My apartment building got sold to apparent slum lords three days before Christmas. Funner?
Lizzie has thoroughly invaded the only place in my Father's house I could even begin to claim as my own, leaving me with no refuge amidst the family's collective crazy. Funnerer?
My birthday dinner was the single most traumatic holiday experience of my life between the sudden appearance of the Crack Lady at the restaurant, Lizzie critiquing my clothes, Cheryl gloating over being with papa in a truly sickening way, Richard saying things that were wildly inappropriate and make me want to slap him silly, and the revelation that Papa proposed to Cheryl while chaperoning my Winter Ball dinner all those years ago.(1) Absolute fucking funnest.
You guys, I'm pretty determined to have a good 2009. I'm trying really hard not to overreact to any of these things and smile at the irony of it all. But seriously? If this keeps up I'm flying to Tahiti while the flying is fair and never coming back.
I need to schedule appointments with the nice young people in clean white coats. Hopefully they'll figure out a way to make this mess work. I'll no longer live at the side of the ups and downs, but if I can get through this semester intact that might be a fair price to pay.
Alright, I'm off to buy books. Ta, lads and ladies. I miss you all.
(1) I'm not sure I'll ever forgive Papa for actually marrying her. I don't really like Cheryl. I think Richard is a twit. The only part of that house that I can be in for more than an hour is my room and I don't even have that now. Oh, and if I hear one more bit of twee happy-families, "this feels so right" bollocks from Cheryl ever again, I swear I'm going to puke.
