The post where I bitch ...

So I know I said I wouldn't be having rants on here, but I really need to bitch about this because I've just been bottling it up.

I hate my parents. They piss me off in more than words can say. My current bitchiness came from a call I received from my dad around 11 p.m. last Saturday (March 11). I didn't answer it because, well, I didn't feel like fighting and being talked down to and ridiculed and have them ask me why I don't call every week for this abuse like my sister does. So I didn't call back until Sunday afternoon when I no longer had my safety blanket that is Dar. And it went downhill from there.

Apparently my parents were down in San Antonio visiting my neice. Now, that's all and good, and I know I shouldn't be pissed off about it, but they didn't even bother to call me until 11 p.m. the night before, and they had been there for several days already. And when I called them, they were on their way back to Brownsville already. Not that I would've gone down to S.A. to see them (nor would I have wanted them to come up here to see me), but, you know, it would've been nice to know rejecting them was an option.

Secondly, there was the whole "well, you never call" guilt trip that they always play that I don't give in to. I mean, whenever I talk or am in the same room as my parents it's always for them to point out my flaws and compare me to my sister, who, you know, ain't hot shit but they think so because they finally have a grandchild from their child that's graduated from college.

And big shit that she graduated from college. She didn't actually graduate until two semester after she walked across the stage because she kept failing the one class she needed to graduate. And that was four years ago. She got married, had a kid, and she barely got her first full-time job about five months ago. I, however, have kept on having to drop out of college to work full time to support myself and, you know, gain experience in my field, and shit like that, but that doesn't matter because I haven't graduated nor do I have children. You know, Stalin forbid I'd actually try to have a career and a way to support a child and family before I even think about starting one. Because, you know, that's stupid and wrong and I should have seven children by my age. Fuck that.

Yeah. That's pretty much what happens every time I talk to my parents. That and they always do something to try and make me wage a war on my sister (and it's worked more times than I like to admit). This time it was them telling me that my sister thought I looked fat from when she came up a couple weeks ago. Now, I could've retaliated like my parents wanted, but I didn't. Instead, I just told myself that's why I don't tell my parents any of my opinions towards my sister because they'll just try to make us hate each other. And, you know, I'm sick of it. My sister's learned to not tell me shit about me to my face, but she obviously still hasn't learned that our parents try to turn us on each other. Her fucking loss.

Then, of course, there was my father. He pisses me off the most, even more than my hateful mother, but he pisses me off out of my concern towards him. He told me that he's going back to Iraq around July or August. My dad turns 58 this year. And when he came back from his last stint in Iraq, his left knee was a little fucked up. That was in December. And he still hasn't gone to a doctor, blaming it on VA shit, which is bullshit because if he really wanted to get better, he'd keep on trying to get through the bullshit. But he gives up. It's the story of both of my parents. They give up. And that's why I don't ever want to be anything like them.

My mom wanted to become a nurse. But she's given up repeatedly at this. Since 1996, she's been in and out of college more times than I have. And every time she gives up. Because she can't get past the math classes she needs to have under her belt to get into the actual nursing classes. I tried hiring a tutor for her several times, and she always either didn't see them or angered them so much that they quit. My dad, well, he hasn't had a steady job since 1999. He was on unemployment for a year, and then in 2001, he decided to move up to San Antonio (leaving my mom in Brownsville) in an attempt to find a good job and eventually move my mom up there. That failed, mostly because he moved in with his father and mega-bitch of a stepmother (which is a rant for another time) and let them drill into his head that he was worthless. (People who wondered why I wasn't disturbed when my grandfather died, there's your answer.) And then my father joined the National Guard in an attempt to make money. Which he did. Then he learned me could make more if he'd go to Iraq. So he did. Then he came back home with injuries he wouldn't take care of. And he hasn't. And now he's going back. Because he hasn't been able to find a job. Because he won't look. Because he "knows" no one will hire him.

So yeah. That's what I've been pissed off about all week long. Enjoy my vitriol.