I hate you because you always seemed to take pleasure in hurting me and you just loved to make fun of the things that I cared about. I hate that you always said horrible things about everyone, but only when their backs were turned. you're so fake and you lied all the time, for no good reason, just because you could and because you knew that everyone was too scared of you to call you on it. I hate that you had such control over me, that she always gave into you, that we had to jump whenever you looked at us. I hate you for sending us to that fucking church just to get rid of us,to that stupid place where they were all so phony and made fun of our clothes. I hate that you used to send me to the store for your cigarettes, that I had to do your housework every day after school and on weekends. I hate you for making sure that I had no life until I moved away from you. I hate you for telling people that you raised us, hate you for making me feel so inferior. I hate you for taking away my brother, we never got him back. I hate the sound of your voice, and the way you smell and your accent. most of all, I hate you because you knew, didn't you? you knew and you didn't do anything. for that, more than anything,I hope you rot in hell.

I won't even be sad when you die but I suppose I'll have to pretend to be so I won't have to explain how I really feel and why.

I think my amazing yet freakish ability to memorize everything is seriously less amazing lately. I feel very scattered, I can't remember the simplest things anymore. phone numbers and birthdays were stuck in my head forever, anniversaries too, or at least I thought so. now I need to look up numbers if I'm making a call and I'm planning on buying a birthday calendar so people don't get pissed when they don't get a card or whatever. I suppose this should be more alarming than it is. I'm sure it will be a bigger deal at some point. oh well.

hopefully this post won't eat my last post like last time.

more juvenile delinquent fun this weekend. the boy has a 10:00 curfew on weekend nights, 8:00 on weekdays. I let him go to a friend's house Friday night, in spite of what happened Friday morning. I don't know why. he came home before his curfew, and was on the computer when some of his friends came over. I think it was about 8:30. they all left, and I reminded Stephen that his curfew was 10:00. he wasn't home by 10, so I waited (slept with the tv on) for him on the couch. wasn't home by 11:30...or 1:00...or 3:30, which was when I finally went to bed. didn't come home the next morning at all and was in fact gone until sometime around 9:00 Sunday morning. I had emailed his probation officer Saturday morning and emailed him again yesterday with an update. he filed a delinquency violation, which is not as bad as a probation violation, so we'll probably have another court date this week or next.

I'm so tired of all of this, so tired of his attitude at home these last few weeks. I'm tired of having to fight him on everything, I'm tired of having to worry every single morning whether or not he's going to get out of bed. I'm tired of defending him to Brian, tired of asking Brian to let it go when the boy is an asshole to me. I'm tired of making excuses. I'm tired of not knowing what to do or what to say or when to ignore him or when to listen. I'm tired of feeling like a bad parent.

he acts like his life is so terrible, like I'm asking too much that he do the dishes and take out the trash three times a week. he thinks I should know what is bothering him but he doesn't want to tell me anything. he expects special treatment even when he's being a jerk. this is one of those situations where it would really be helpful to know what normal teenage behavior is. I have no clue when he's being irrational or if he's just being a typical 17-year-old.

I don't know how much more stress I can handle right now, between the boy, work stress, worrying about having enough money for the holidays, worrying about the girls in general. I need a vacation from my life, just a few days would be perfect. unfortunately, I don't see that happening any time soon.



ps - could I be a little more whiny? probably.

lovely morning

today, I had the pleasure of calling the police because my wonderful son would not get up for school. as you couldn't possibly know, he is on probation for missing more school days last year than any other student at his school. so whenever he refuses to get up in the morning, I have to threaten to call the police to come get him. usually the threat is enough to motivate him to move his ass, but today it didn't work. I assume he was testing me, I believe that I passed.

2004 has been a year of many firsts for me: the first time I went to court (juvenile court), the first time I went to a police station (to report him missing when I went to wake him up for school and couldn't find him), the first time I saw someone I love in handcuffs (yeah, him again) and the first time I have called the police to come to my house (see above). 2005 better be a whole lot better than that. in March, he turns 18. I don't know what will happen with any of this at that point.