A bitchy rant, plain and simple.
One of the first things I realized this (Saturday) morning, other than the fact that 05:00 is entirely too early to be getting up when on a leisurely vacation, is that I’ve lost weight. That’s a weird thing to suddenly notice, I know, but I was getting dressed after my shower, and I suddenly remembered the trouble I’d had recently keeping my pants up. Again, I’m not the most observant, and even what I do observe doesn’t always immediately register. So I took a look-see in the mirror (something I usually don’t do), and was a bit astonished. The weight-loss isn’t majorly apparent (despite my father’s claims), as I don’t wear tight shirts or anything (and to me, the loss is most is apparently in my torso), but, you know, should anyone see me nekkid (and those bums who forget to knock on my dorm door before swinging it open may very well get that pleasure), they might notice the change. So I’m all about the renewed vigor in working out, although I think I’m going to hold off on weight-lifting, as I’m just not feeling the crowd-workout feeling. I like privacy. Solitude. Not a crowd of teenaged boys staring at me like I’m an eccentric. “Oooh, it’s a girrrl. And she’s lifting more than 10 pounds…” Outta my bidness. Leemee ‘lone.
I know I should just ignore them. Shouldn’t let ’em bother me and all that.
It turns out that none of mes amis have a week-long vacation for Thanksgiving. So apparently I was just kidding about having a fun time with them this weekend. That’s okay. I think we can squeeze in some time after Thanksgiving and before my flight out on Saturday. I hope.
Being in Charlotte has been… interesting. Mom’s the same. Ali hasn’t changed (and she still managed to annoy me before we’d even left the damn airport). The Old Man looks worse. They completely fucked up my room, though, messing up all of my books (I was so pissed to find all of my books just… mixed: on the wrong shelves, out of order, just thrown on the bookshelves without a goddamn care). Then there was my stereo. The Old Man told me that he’d de-wired my entire stereo (already enough to piss me off) because it was “a mess”. What the hell did he need to do back there anyway? I left it set up so Mom could use it, and he just dismantles the whole thing. Then he lies and tells he was careful about it, and didn’t harshly bend any of the wires. So when I go to do a quick hook-up of my DVD player direct to my TV, what do I find sticking out of the back of player in a small scrunched up ball wrapped a million times with tight rubber band? An optical cable I’d shelled out about $50 some-odd bucks for during a burst of stereo upgrades. All of my wires were done in such a manner, without regard for type. Nice of him not to discriminate. I informed him that, by summer, if not Christmas, I would be very much pleased if he replaced the optical wires he damaged. He said he would, and that was that. He acts like I’m fucking rolling in the dough, or, funnier still, like he is. He still treats Ali like shit, still doesn’t listen to anyone.
But, of course, I’m not here to see him.
My room’s all… yellow… because they put up these ugly-ass curtains so the Old Man can feel more comfortable working on his computer in my room while not dressed. (I don’t keep curtains up–I like the natural white light, as it seems to not strain my eyes so much. And besides, I have blinds, so nudity isn’t a problem.) My room’s yellow.
It’s only for a week, then I get to go home back to Rose. I’m seriously considering staying at Rose for Christmas. Save my parents the trouble of buying a ticket, save me the stress of seeing the people I don’t want to see, and gives me two whole weeks of peace and quiet–no neighbors, no roommate (although I love her to death), no interruptions to my reading and studying and working out. I just have to make sure to stock up on food and pay the bill to stay on campus. Easily and cheaply done, with my affinity for veggie soup and baby carrots. I think I’m going to toss the idea at my mother tomorrow.