the beach at Arbroath, Scotland

14 April 2004
the good, the bad and the permanently juvenile

on sunday, i looked at this week and thought, yes, it's going to be hell. i am doing a craft show on May 1st, so there is stuff to be worked on and finished and fired, a task made that much difficult by the fact that i'm not technically a student at Tyler anymore, but i still am freeloading off the studio. not there has been problems with this arrangement, but i do have to tread lightly in terms of space and timing. so i have spent the last few days thus: 9 hours at work, and 6 or 7 in the studio afterward. after three days of this, my brain was protesting with warnings of impending killer migraine: if you don't sleep soon, we're going on strike.

this week was made even more stressful by the fact that i had a huge, and i mean huge fight with my roommates on monday night. i have this bad habit of letting my anger build and build and build until it finally boils over: and then i get mad, incredibly mad, but not articulately mad. i can't make my points because i'm so on the verge of physical violence. this is a trait i'm not particularly proud of, and was the reason my sister got so many beatdowns when we were younger (though, to be fair, she dished it right back).

i have a hard time arguing with both of my roommates. mostly because one is really passive-aggressive (leaving nasty notes on the fridge instead of confronting me with her issues), the other is just really passive (couldn't even look at me while we were having this argument), and both are extremely immature. the issue in question was, of course, the cleaning situation. the argument actually took place entirely between me and Liz, because Kelly just sat there and hid her face. literally. i'm not kidding. she just seems to shut down in the face of any confrontation.

so Liz's defense to not cleaning the house was that she doesn't use the rest of it. because she is up in her room all the time, she does not have to clean the kitchen, the dining room or the living room. she says she cleans the bathroom after she uses it, a claim i have never found evidence of. we went around and around and around on this, me screaming at the bottom of the stairs, she at the top. it was kind of amusing in a really sick way. she claims that she shouldn't have to do dishes because she uses paper plates and has one cooking pot that she uses, which she keeps up in her room.

it was just all ridiculous, really. if she wanted to just stay in her room and live there, she should've lived in a dorm, not in a house. because, to me (and please correct me if i'm completely out of my mind on this), if you live in a dwelling, it isn't a case of a la carte. you can't section off the house and decide to pretend the rest of it doesn't exist.

and of course, i haven't even broached the topic of Kelly. she's sitting on the couch in the living room, ass planted on the couch as i type this at the dining room table. i'm quite sure if i spoke to her right now she'd run away in fright. i don't understand people like this. she doesn't stand up for herself at all. i have a feeling her pyscho controlling father has something to do with this.

i think i've reached megabitch status on this one. all i know is i'm going to choose my next roommates very, very carefully, and lay down ground rules immediately so there's no mistake.

only three months til i leave this suburban hell.

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