Evil Intent

My cousin drives a semi truck. I think it was last week that he killed three people when he ran into their SUV thing. The situation? There was this SUV thing in front of him, they did a super wide turn right, and then back left, trying to do a u-turn, but there was oncoming traffic, so they ended up right in front of my cousin. Guess who couldn't stop. The case is still under investigation. It was an accident. 100% but he could still be charged with vehicular homicide or something like that. Manslaughter. Vehicular manslaughter. Either way, it doesn't look good on your record. And who knows if he will be able to keep his job. Even though he has a family to support. With a another baby on the way. I'll just blame my mother. It's her fault. She just said a couple weeks ago that bad things always come in threes, and so far we've only had two. [my cousin Tony's death, and then some lady named Maryian who i'm supposedly related to died] Well, here ya go mom, here's number three. And this one he has to live with. If I was in an accident and three people died as a result, I'm not sure if I would be able to live with myself. I have trouble with that sort of thing. I like to blame myself for things that are outside of my control. Nasty habit. Don't get into. I had some really great news... But this blog has just gotten so depressing... I don't think that I can tell it... It will just ruin the news. So, next time.

All Those Horrible Things You Say

I keep them. I store them. I save them. And sometimes, on rainy days, when there is nothing else to do, I read them. And I cry. I cry because there are so many horrible things that have been said to me. And I wonder, am I a horrible person? Because nice people are never cursed. People always tell me that I am so nice. Well, then what have I done to receive all of those terrible words? Wanna know something funny? I've only ever kept one nice letter. Only one. Does that mean that people don't say nice things to me? I can't remember that far back... I only remember those things I saved. It makes my life look pretty miserable. I think I need to start a happy collection. Something cheerful. I planted rose bushes in my front yard by the light post the other day. Right now they just look like sticks poking out of the ground. Something a two year old would do and call gardening. But I know that if I keep on watering them they'll grow. Then I'll have pretty flowers. Roses.

Addicted to Nothing

It's been awhile. In my absence I have gone to the ER, been in bed for like a week, decided that I have absolutely no hope of ever passing that stupid English class [and consequently dropping it], and become addicted to nothing. It sounds a lot more epic than it really was. The ER trip was so not fun. I was in so much pain I couldn't sit still. I was nauseous and felt like screaming, but couldn't scream because that would simply make my head ache even more. My mother freaked out and decided that we needed to go to the ER. On the way there I threw up like three times. [into an ice cream bucket, not on my lap, thank God] And when we got there they gave me anti-nausea meds that really helped, but then we had to wait for the infusion... Of course. When we finally got to go back for it I was finally learning how to deal with the pain and probably would've been ok without it, but I figured that we had driven all the way there and it would make me feel better, so whatever. It totally put me out. After the nurse finally found a vein to stick the needle in. Apparently I have "small veins." I have never had this problem before, and I've had blood drawn and like three other infusions. They wanted to draw blood too. That was great. Took her three tried to get a vein. Then, after the infusion, when I could barely think, let alone walk, they wanted a urine sample. Great idea. Once I finally got home I just went to bed. And didn't wake up until the middle of the next day. From now on, unless I have no other choice, I definitely want to avoid the ER. It is so uncomfortable, and they so do not know how to stick a needle into a vein. Anyway, after the infusion my head was kinda better, but it was still incredibly achy, so I was basically in bed for about a week, missing all of my classes. My freaking English teacher will not budge on his stupid "participation" thing, and since I wasn't in class of course I didn't have any of the participation points, so I decided that there was no way in hell that I was going to be able to pass that class and dropped. I'm going to see if I can get it to be a medical drop instead of a withdrawal. Once I got out of bed I got back to school and caught back up with all of the work and stuff. And then when I wasn't doing school work and all that stuff I became addicted to nothing. Nothing = facebook games. If you ever actually think about them you'll find that they have no substance. None. They are like nothing. And yet I can't stop playing them. Why? I don't know. I must be addicted. How has this happened? Too much spare time. That's what it is. Too much spare time. Must find something else to do.

And So...

Well, I was supposed to do my presentation for PWS on Monday, unfortunately one of my group members didn't have a voice. Thank the Lord, the teacher was not in one of her evil moods and is allowing us to present on Friday instead, after the other two groups. So we will not be receiving a zero! The only thing that sucks about this situation is that our presentation is not over and done with. I'm still sitting here thinking about it... Not fun. I would love to get on with it. I really hope that I have all of the genetics stuff down. And I really hope that they don't ask like any questions. Because it's very likely that I won't have a clue. I really only looked up the genetics of it. I didn't get into all of the weird cases. So I don't know about this one particular cases where this one person had this one strange thing happen to them. I do know a little bit about Angelman Syndrome, which is like its sister genetic disorder, but that is only because Angelman Syndrome is not some kind of freak accident [well I suppose technically it is] it's more common and because it is stronly tied in with PWS. So I know what we're supposed to know for this thing. And that's it. I didn't go crazy with with fancy random facts. That's just not my thing.

They Drink Their Pee.

They drink their pee. They DRINK their PEE. Models. They drink their pee. And rub their poop on their skin, like some kind of exfoliating lotion. Models. The people that the majority of the world looks up at and say "gorgeous." Really? They drink pee. And rub poop all over themselves. Do we really find that attractive? Pee drinking, poop rubbing models? That is our idea of beauty? You know what the best part of that is though? [besides the pee] They're photoshoped. They aren't real. The person in the picture doesn't actually exist. Yes, they took a picture of someone [who drinks pee] but then they altered her appearance so much that I doubt you'd recognize her if you saw her walking down the street. Plastic surgery, cosmetics, and eating disorders make them what they are. And we admire them? We admire people that drink pee.

Reality

In reality we all have problems. It doesn't matter where you live, who you know, how much money you have, where you are going to school, or what you plan on doing with your life. You have a problem. It may not be a big problem, but it's there. So, please somebody, tell me why people shun people who have problems that are different from their own. Do we [humans] just fear different? You hear a lot of people talking about diversity and how it's such a great thing, but the diversity they speak of is only racial. They are only talking about the color of our skin, not who we are as people. To achieve the greatest amount of diversity you need to not look at skin color. That is what Affirmative Action does not account for. It's only trying to make up for past white domination. That in itself is racist and discriminatory. Suddenly people of minorities are at a huge advantage. And this is supposed to be fair? I realize that in the past minorities were placed under the white majority and it was unfair, but wouldn't the fair thing to do be to raise them to equal status? Not raise them above and put them on a pedestal.

Uh Oh

When you've been visiting therapist offices for a long time you begin to learn how they really operate. There are a lot of misconceptions. A lot of people [if not most] will think of the waiting room as a bunch of people wearing all black with too many piercings and hair all sorts of funny colors. Not true. If you ever actually enter the waiting room for a therapist you'll be lucky to find one such person. [I'm not saying that these people don't go, because they do, but averagely you don't see them in there] You are more likely to find people [mostly women] in their 20's to 30's. All of them very average looking. When I went to my very first appointment I seriously thought that we had gone to the wrong place. And you know how almost everyone thinks that the best way to throw a therapist is to make them think that you are just as messed up as can be? Again not true. The better route is silence. Don't tell them anything, it makes them want to dig. If you have real issues, they'll just be able to tell, even if you don't talk. If you don't talk they can't figure out your issues, so if that was your goal, you're winning. It also helps if you don't have nervous habits. Nail biting is a dead giveaway. On the other hand, if you actually want this therapy to help you get better you have to cooperate. They can ask all the questions in the world, but you have to give truthful answers that go slightly deeper than "yes" or "no." They need some indicators, they can't read minds. Which is definitely the best part. So whenever you want to be done talking, just stop talking. They may prod a little more, to try and get little more out of you, but if you really don't want to talk anymore that session, just don't answer. That's always your best bet. Silence. It's golden.