alecto - your little bluejay (pollytrance) wrote,
alecto - your little bluejay

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I went shopping with my mom today and we were looking at doorknobs. She said that I should get these really pretty blue ones and I should put them on my bathroom door.

I don't have my own bathroom. I haven't had my own bathroom for two fucking years. That slip up alone made me feel shitty and realise how small my stupid new room is and how it could barely accommodate five fleas, AND how much it truly sucks not having one's own bathroom. And I don't feel bad bitching about this because THEY are my parents who made promises to their child. I have to stop bitching when I'm 18 and can get all the stuff they promised me by myself. List of broken promises:

* A car that I can actually drive, where you don't have to break off the gearshift to get it into gear
*My own room/bathroom in the basement to accommodate my pack-rat-ness/need for privacy
*Cello lessons

And that's all. They also promised me a phone line, but I didn't get it until three years of bitching later. I'm sorry. When I promise people things I have every intention of delivering. When my parents promise things it's so that I'll shutup. I hate Victorian houses. It's been two years since I've had dry wall and also two years since I've even had enough wall space to put up my posters.

My old room: I could fit every single goddamn band poster I had, plus 6 movie posters and a life-size Ghya poster.

My new room: The only thing that fits on my wall (yes, only one isn't taken up already because I have no storage room that I've had to clutter my room with a gigantic entertainment center) is a Van Gogh poster. Bah.

Moving from a humungous room to a closet sucks.

Lindsay the movie star came over a while ago and there was nowhere to sit because I hadn't yet found storage for all of my clean clothes and she said to me, "You can't live in this room. It's too small. You have too much stuff. You need like a house. It was a little bit crowded in my old room, but there was still space, and I had my own bathroom where I didn't have to worry about my moron brother using my shaving cream (just to play with, not to actually shave with, and he's 13, the fuck fork!) or my shampoo, or my body wash, or whatever I decide to put in there that is my fucking stuff. And I have to walk down a long cold hardwood hallway to get to the bathroom so I can't lug my shit back and forth without it being a hassle/turning into a big mess. What a piece of shit.

Sorry about this. I know I am a spoiled piece of crap bitch who appreciates nothing... I just wish I could let it show more without everyone hating me and expecting me to sing Veruca's famous "I want it now" song. When I was little I hated her character in Willy Wonka... and they say you hate the most what is the most you. Figures, doesn't it? And I just read a post on my friends page where someone was unknowingly sharing one of his possessions with someone else.

I'm sorry-- when something is yours, it's yours, and when it's mine it's mine. Sharing is for people who have whatever the fuck they want and need. Don't get me wrong, it pleases me to share, but not if I have to break my back to do so.


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