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12:23am 28/12/2005
  And here I thought I was the one who had no right to be annoyed.

Silly, silly me.

People are so fscking stupid.

I have this bad habit of losing my temper. It really is bad, so lately I've been trying not to do it. I'll go away for a while, or do something else, or.. well, you get the picture, right?

So I did that tonight, when I found out that my New Year's Eve plans had been shot in the ass after almost a month of planning. I went home, and I took a long shower, and I ignored the world for about an hour, and now I'm calm and okay and not so very pissed off.

And then I see this little gem:



And get angry all fscking over again.

But first I should probably go into some background:

[info]deltashade is part of a tabletop V:tM RPG that my friend [info]gryfeathr is ST for. [info]thecurtain and [info]liesbyomission are also a part of it. [info]deltashade plays a particularly idealistic Toreador. He's als oa martyr and a wimp, but that's another rant.

Today, he did all of zilch, and was absolutely useless, and then at the end of the very short session, dropped the lovely little bomb that he was going to be doing other shit on New Year's Eve, with this chick he met on [info]sages_of_chaos and is now aparantly in love with.

(which is damn sad, because he falls in and out of love so easily I want to cry, or maybe hurt him, or maybe both.)

Which brings me right back to where I started when I cam speeding home, thirty miles above the god forsaken speed limit:

Dear [info]deltashade,

How dare you? True, you gave us more than an hour's worth of warning, for which I am entirely grateful, because this means I can, in fact, make other plans.

But.

How dare you complain that you were 'excluded'? Your character did zilch by your own choice. Don't come complaining to us that you, poor sad SOB that you are, were excluded because you couldn't find a clue with both hands, a flashlight, and a map!

You bastard.

No love,

Me.		  
     
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12:14am 30/10/2005
  Okay, so maybe I don't have to be worried after all.

I did some checking, and she's fine. She's just decided to pull the traditional 'one of you doesn't want to talk to me so obviously no one else does either, woe for I am abandoneded!'

Which is fucking stupid, but no one wants to deal with the shit anyway.

So maybe it's not just me for once.		  
     
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11:48pm 29/10/2005
  One line, and suddenly I'm nervous. She's not on, she's not here, she's not there, it's like she's dropped off the face of the earth, and I'm scared. It's not like she's the most emotionally stable of persons.

And then a whole new pile of shit has slopped itself onto my plate.

(I imagine my plate is some kind of battered, chipped stoneware, loved to pieces and put back together again because nothing else will last as long.)

My father has pulled a hissy.

He's such a dickless wonder. He can't make his own opinion, swallows other people's opinions whole (yes, even that all cell phones cause cancer and should be thrown away immediately) and has to yell at his wife and kid to feel like a man.

So help me god, if I marry someone like that, shoot me.

I'm not allowed on his insurance, and he wants to sell the gold car (we have five cars, a white honda, a white plymouth, a red pick-up, a white dodge ram, and a gold minivan. the pickup and the ram are my dad's, the gold and the plymouth are traditionally my mother's, and the honda is my baby.) and leave my mom with just the white plymouth, which happens to be highly unstable and also a bitch kitty to work.

It's also spectacular on gas. Go figure.

He spent most of this evening baiting my mother, and she spent most of it not talking and then warning me. He hasn't spoken a word to me, and it's not like I care--It's the same damn thing I go through every day with him, so what's being ignored going to do to me? It's him baiting her that worries me.

He's probably swallowed a whole fuckload of lies from my uncle eli, who is not the stablest, saniest, or nicest of men. He's fat and old and dying, and good riddance. He already screwed up two out of his three sons.

I feel for her, and I hate that I have all this to deal with at once, when really all I am is worried and freaked out and not in the mood to deal with it all at once.

Must be that time of the month again. Whoop-de-doo.		  
     
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12:08am 29/10/2005
  Stop calling me.

Stop trying to see me.

Just stop.

Stop IMing me.

Go away. Get some other friends, because I'm over here being smothered, and I don't want more than friendship. That's it. That's all. Nothing else. I. Like. Maturity.

Get a clue.

Call someone else.

Call Tara. Call Colin. Call Liz. For fuck's sake, call Rich for all I care, but don't call me. I'm not going to answer anymore.

Ignoring the phone is the nice way, but I'm tired of it.

I don't want to see you. Don't come home to spend time with me, because I have other things to do. I have obligations, thank you much. I have a job. You might want to look into one, it will help with all that free time you tend to spend sleeping.

You're not just invading my personal physical space, you're invading my personal mental space. Back off.

There is nothing between us but friendship. I don't know if I should have started off with that, but there you go. That's it, that's all there is to it. Friends. I don't want anything else, and you need to GROW UP. You remember Otakon, when you asked me if you were taken, when you were talking to the Philosophy Major of stalkingness? I told you the truth, but there's another part to that answer now. "How should I know? It's your life."

You have abandonment issues? Peachy. Join the club, we have buttons. People have said things to you and not meant them? Join the club! We have t-shirts!

Steph?

Look in the mirror.

And the horrible part about that last one is that it's as much my fault as yours because I don't like having to come out and say to you 'Hey, stop it'. It seems to backfire. Like this probably will. But I'll say it again, so you can understand how bad it is, right now:

You are my Steph.

I've stopped coming online. Have you noticed that?

I don't answer your comments.

I'm not RPing with you anymore. I don't want to. It's not fun. It's not even enjoyable anymore.

I don't know if I want to do anything with you for a very long time, because you. invade. my. space.

Take a big step back, because this is not going to work. I'm sitting here in the dark, typing this because I don't want to go online, because the one or two times I do show up, HEY, THERE YOU ARE TOO.

No. Just No. Big No.

I'm not nice. I don't know how to say this nicely. I tried. See, up there, when it was civil and calm? It stopped. It stopped a while ago, because I cannot deal with you anymore. I can't. Find someone else to hold your hand, because it's not working for me.

I feel like someone's fucking chasing me. I can't get online, I can't enjoy myself with anything, I have nothing to do.

Leave me alone. You have friends. Make some new ones. Enjoy being away, and when you come home, enjoy being home.

Don't call me.

Don't come over.

I'm not home.		  
     
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12:00am 29/10/2005
  In case anyone ever runs across this, here's what it is. This is my way of venting, because those closest to me are the ones I have to run away from.

I'm running on E. Can't you tell?		  
     
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  running_on_e
 
 

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