Contrariness

Last night was our final family get-together before the birds were officially out of the nest. I literally couldn't stop laughing hysterically the whole evening. Especially when nothing was funny.  Please don't ever try to have a serious occasion with me around. Tell me it is an occasion for levity and rejoicing, and THEN I will find myself as dour and lifeless as possible.

My sister is going away for college for the first time tomorrow; she's been relentlessly bitchy and eager to get away from the family, but right on cue, the blubbering has begun. It will not end, I predict, for 48 hours. Fortunately, I'm not leaving that much later than she is.

In the meantime, I not only have to pack for college, I also have to pack all my earthly possessions in the world, because my mother is literally demolishing two floors of the house while we're at school. It's really annoying, this packing thing.

I need a MURDER icon.

The extent of my rage cannot be described.

At my mother's insistence, we were going to sell some of our VHS anime collection on eBay. Fine, I say.

My sister has gone out with her friends 10 hours or more for 6 days a week for the last month -- and if you think I'm exaggerating, it's only because you didn't open the door for her every night when she came knocking on your window at 4 am. I sorted, collected, organized, restored the entire collection. Ali viewed exactly two unlabeled tapes to verify what they were, and that was her entire contribution. I put all of our sale items online, typed up all the descriptions, filed them. It's all going through my Paypal account. Ali discussed with me what we should put on the ads.

Somewhere along the line -- probably because my mother threw a temper tantrum which everybody in the house but her thought was infantile about how she didn't want the tapes in their neat stacks on two of the seven chairs at her table although she didn't mind the fact that you can barely walk through the living room for all the boxes and random piles of garbage, and then shoved all the tapes into random boxes in the living room full of random boxes and random garbage -- we lost half of the tapes we were selling on the auction. At no time was I irresponsible enough to bring these tapes into my chaotic box-crowded room, but apparently, my mother doesn't have the IQ necessary to realize that we are not impressing or conveniencing anybody by freeing up those two chairs at the sacrifice of my system.

Nobody considered this even remotely serious but me, until I got hostile about it, and then suddenly everyone is telling me it's my fault. It's my fault that the tapes were moved! It's my fault that I wasn't available to talk about something, I don't know what, because I did all the work and not a single person lifted a finger to help me! It's my fault and I should have to do everything to fix this.

I can't wait for my good name to be defamed on eBay, needless to say.

Fuck you people. There aren't words for how much I would enjoy hitting them with a blunt object until they're capable of admitting that, you know what, maybe she did the best she could and the things that went wrong had nothing to do with her, even if they only admit it because their brains have been damaged too badly to hold any dissenting opinion.

On top of that, my mother got White Castle for dinner, which is my second most hasted fast food in the world, because my sister told John that I couldn't possibly be hungry and hung up on him while he was trying to tell them what we wanted. I already feel sick -- and this would be the second time this week I got physically sick from food that other people forced me to eat, after the bad Italian food Monday night.

Just, insult to stab wounds. I wish stab wounds.

But I'm really, really upset that we fucked up this auction, most of all.