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(Part 2 of 2, Part 1 can be found here)

The bad:

I don't remember what I said to broach the subject of birth control. I just remember some of the first words out of my mother's mouth: “You're not pregnant, are you?” “What? No, of course not.” “Not with Dan. Whatever you do, never with Dan. He's not the one for you.”

From there, what was supposed to be a quick chat about birth control turned into a half hour long bash on Dan and my relationship with Dan:

She said that Dan “isn't a man, he's a little boy."
She said we have an unhealthy “enabling” relationship.
She said that Dan is narcissistic, and I'm his codependent.
 

She distinctly implied that I'm only with Dan for the gifts he gives me.

She basically said I should dump him since he doesn't like washing the dishes.
She compared my relationship with Dan to her failed first marriage to a drunk... who was possibly abusive.

Never mind that Dan is always there when I need him, that he's always willing to help, that he gladly takes care of me when I'm sick. Never mind that Dan is always there to calm me down, prop me up, and catch me when I fall. Never mind that he treats me better than every one else in my life. Never mind that he loves me more than anyone else has before.

Dan has never risen a hand to me in anger. He has no serious vices – he doesn't drink, he's not a crazy partier, he doesn't have any drug or gambling addictions. He is impossibly sweet. He takes care of me. He loves me. He helps me in more ways than I can say. I thought this was how a good relationship was supposed to be?

But no, none of that matters.

What matters is that “he doesn't fit in with the family.” He doesn't do dishes. He didn't cook for me when we lived together. We constantly “enable” each other. He's a mama's boy. His hypoglycemia can make him temperamental. What matters is that we cuddled in front of the fireplace in Washington when I was freezing cold.

I barely fit in with my family;* why would I want him to? He's quiet and reserved, and you've been against him from the get-go. We've reached a compromise – I do dishes and he rubs my constantly aching shoulders. It's win-win. He did cook fairly often, actually, but his days were a lot longer than mine even after I got a job, so I ended up doing most of the cooking while he bought a good 90% of our food because I was dirt poor. Yes, he adores his mother. So what? That translates to how he treats me. How is that a problem? The hypoglycemia is annoying, but he's getting better and we know how to work through it whenever it pops up. I would rather deal with his hypoglycemia than your issues. And, seriously? Cuddling PDA is blacklisted even when I'm freezing cold and he's trying to warm me up?

F.U., Mom.

Oh, and learn what “enable” means. Your stupid is showing.

*Excepting Kelly and Geena – seriously, I luff you guys so hard. I miss you!


nohanii: (Default)
Note: This post may be considered TMI for some, but it's my blog and I need to talk about this. If you're uncomfortable with talk about sex, just skip it

I which I ramble... )

Has anyone else had this problem? What did you do about it? What method of BC do you use now? Other than "I'm LGBT so I don't have to worry about it! Haha stupid straight people =P" (I'm looking at YOU, Kelly and Geena!)
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Mom and Dad disappeared for hours today. When they came back, they had a brand new 2010 Honda Civic.

They gave me (or, more accurately, are letting me use) Mom's 2001 Acura. This is three days after I talked to Dad about using the settlement money from my car to buy a used ~2009 Kia, and he approved of the plan.

Their reasoning? "But you wanted the Acura!"

Yeah, until I had to start driving it again and discovered how grossly inefficient it is. Before I had the chance to upgrade to a newer, nicer, and still gas-efficient car -- one that had better than an average 22 mpg. My Honda made on average 33 mpg. Now I'm stuck with this car that really just makes me feel gross.

I understand why they thought this would be okay -- they own my 2001 Civic, not me, and I've been making noises for ages about getting one of the two Acuras. But seriously. My car got totaled. I fought to get a higher settlement than was offered. I just talked to Dad about getting a Kia with the settlement money. Then they turned around and did this.

I feel cheated. I was the one in a car crash. I was the one who lost a car. I was the one who managed to get over $700 more compared to the original settlement. They didn't do anything. They already had four cars -- four cars between the two of them -- in perfect condition. But Mom wanted a new car, and she is the one who gets what she wants.

Oh, and the kicker? They're always complaining about how oh-so-broke they are. They just bought a car for over $17,000. My settlement was $8000. They now owe ~$9000 in car payments. They just bought the Pilot last year and are still paying it off. And they're still working on payments for the Corvette that was bought ~2 years before that. If I'd gotten a used Kia, I could have bought one for ~$10,000, and owed only ~$2000 on it by using the settlement as a down payment.

But no. They went behind my back and did this.

I really honestly expected Mom to get a new car this weekend. I thought they would trade one of the Acuras in to get it. I didn't even consider that they would pull this BS, at least not without first talking to me about it. Even if they settlement isn't actually my money, I feel that they owed me that courtesy if nothing else.
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I'm ready to slap Matthew and my mother. Apparently, it's my fault that Matthew's cat didn't get her medication today because I "can't just suddenly stop giving her her meds and expect Matthew to be responsible." Yeah, Mom actually said that. I've been telling him since Day 1 nearly two weeks ago that he needs to be responsible to her medications. That was on the 6th. 11 days later, and he's still leaving it for someone else to do every single morning because he "forgets" or he's "too tired." He only does it in the evening because we hound him to take care of her. We literally have to tell him 5 or 6 times before he does it. It takes 1 minute to give Midnight her medicines, but it turns into a 45 minute long affair because he doesn't take care of it. He's nearly 17 years old, and he can't (or won't) even do this right.

I slept in today until nearly 10am. That's 2 1/2 hours after Matthew left for school. I didn't even think to glance at the medication chart to see if Midnight and Teddy had gotten their morning treatments until after 1pm, and that was when I was busy making myself some lunch. Teddy was done, but Midnight was not. Midnight's supposed to get her meds twice a day, around 8am and 8pm. This was 5 hours past that.

I'm so fed up. When my cat, TJ, was sick and dying, I cared for him round the clock. I gave him baby aspirin and massaged his paralyzed leg. I made sure he was eating. I made sure he was taking care of himself. I stayed with him as much as I could until there was no other choice but to have him put to sleep. Matthew doesn't check to see how Midnight is doing. He doesn't make sure she has her special food. Basically, he doesn't do shit for his cat unless he is yelled at repeatedly.

But somehow, I'm the one being blamed because I "suddenly stopped" giving her her meds without first notifying Matthew. This shouldn't even be an issue. Matthew should automatically assume that it's his responsibility because Midnight is his cat. Especially after I have repeatedly told him that he needs to be responsible for this and not foist it off on me. But no, even after 11 days of saying that, this is still my fault.

Matthew is such a fucking failure. He annoys the hell out of me. I wish he would just grow the fuck up. And Mom? Well she needs to grow a pair of fucking balls start actually being a mother to Matthew instead of this namby-pamby BS she's doing now.

(Dad, by the way, was in the next room. He didn't say anything throughout this whole debacle.)
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There's a guy living in my apartment complex who seems really nice. He's always smiling, always greet me when we pass in the hallways, and overall seems like a really nice guy. Problem is...

He's a rapist.

That's right. And no, I'm not making this up. I got a notice from the city of Huntington Beach that four, count 'em, FOUR, sexual predators live in this complex. The bulletin included names, photographs, physical descriptions, and descriptions of their offenses. There are two rapists and two child molesters living in this 130-odd apartment community. One rapist and one pedophile live right across the hall. RIGHT ACROSS THE FRICKIN HALL. They're RIGHT THERE. I can see their apartments from mine.

That's effin' scary.

I need to move.
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Tatiana really makes me want to slap her. Hard.

She can be cool and fun, and then she can turn around in an instant and turn into a bitchy brat. She's always been this way with her mother -- her mother who has done everything for her, from feeding to cleaning to chauffeuring her around town and giving her money whenever she put her hand out for the last 19 years. Sandy did all this for her, her daughter, then Tatiana turns around and tells her what a horrible mother she is for the slightest "infraction." She got better for a while after her parents separated and Sandy moved out -- and Juan's girlfriend basically moved in. Tatiana started hanging out with her mother a lot more and seemed to treat her better than ever, though still not great. Sometime in the last few months though, she mostly reverted to her old behavior. She'll make plans with her mother to go out, then call and cancel because she's sick -- only when her mother called to check up on her, she'd gone out with her friends! And when Sandy has to reject Tatiana's plans because she's too busy, Tatiana gets unreasonably upset. "Pissed off," as Sandy describes it. Now she's yelling at Sandy in public about taking Juan's money (which he owes her, by the way, and why Juan is telling Tatiana about this is beyond me) and in general acting like the spoiled brat she is.

Not only has she reverted, she's getting worse. She's targeting me and Dan now, too.

Dan and I went to his dad's house on Thursday evening after Thanksgiving dinner. We didn't eat anything that night because we were still pretty stuffed from Thanksgiving. The next morning, we slept in late (got up at 11am) and had leftovers for breakfast, then we got dressed and went to his mom's condo. We hung out with her for a bit, then Tatiana showed up. The first words out of her mouth were "What's for dinner." Not a question. A demand. Keep in mind that this is a 19-almost-20-year-old. Sandy replied that she was going out with friends, and Dan and I sure as hell weren't going to cook for her, not with that entitled attitude. So Tatiana sat there sulking while Sandy wrapped a birthday present for Bailey (a neighbor girl that Sandy cared for). Sandy asked Tatiana to deliver the gift on Saturday since Sandy would be out of town and thus unable to give it to Bailey herself. (Sandy has very good reasons why she would rather avoid that family, reasons which Tatiana likely knows but thinks her mom made up.) Tatiana completely refused to do this one simple thing for her mother and implied that Sandy had abandoned Bailey by moving out, and that Bailey wouldn't remember Sandy and and and. SHUT UP ALREADY. So Sandy merely asked Dan and I to deliver it, and we graciously said we would. Tatiana sulked around for a few minutes longer, steadfastly ignored by the three of us, then she gave up on her quest for attention and left. The gift left with her.

Sandy had to leave after that, so Dan and I went out. We came back to the house armed with a CPK frozen pizza and salad fixings for dinner. After making our no-mess dinner, we headed upstairs to watch Die Hard and eat. Tatiana annouced that if Dan loaded our dishes in the dishwasher, she would run it and put them away. Sounds reasonable, right? Wrong. The kitchen sink was full of dishes. Literally two bowls, two mugs and two forks were ours from dinner. We had none from making dinner aside from a knife used to cut the tomatoes and pizza. I just washed our dishes while Dan was busy elsewhere and left it at that. We once again woke up late on Saturday (~10am this time). Dan had Thanksgiving leftovers again, and I had microwave taquitos. I washed all of our dishes from breakfast as well as any that I had missed from the night before. When I finished, the sink was still pretty well stacked with dishes, but they weren't ours. Tatiana once again bugged us to "do our dishes." We ignored her (because they were already done) and left for the day to celebrate out anniversary. When we got back to the house Sunday morning, Tatiana came thudding downstairs while we were eating and announced "You better have done the dishes!" like we were wayward children ignoring their mother's instructions. When she walked in and saw that the sink was still full, she told us that we were "the worst houseguests ever." I replied "most hosts don't expect their guests to do chores" and went on to explain that they weren't ours and that they had in fact been sitting in the sink since before we arrived at the house on Thursday evening. Her response was, "well they're not mine" (like that automatically made them our responsibility??). I just... I'm flabbergasted that she treated us like stupid children when she can't seem to take care of anything by herself -- and she's almost 20 years old!
In short, Tatiana needs to get off her fucking high horse and live in the real world where she has responsibilities and respect for both of her parents.

Key:
Tatiana = Dan's little sister
Sandy = Dan's mom
Juan = Dan's dad
Sandra = Dan's older sister
Matt = Dan's brother-in-law, Sandra's husband

Argh I really don't feel like this post conveys how Tatiana actually acts on a daily basis. Her behavior, especially towards her mother, is appalling. Literally everything that goes wrong is her mothers fault whether or not it actually is, and Tatiana has no compunction about making the world know all her mother's supposed faults and how horrible her mother is and how her mother has failed her this time. She also enjoys telling Sandy how dumb, annoying, and embarassing she is. I would have been dead meat if I'd ever spoken to my mother like that, but Tatiana gets away with it scott free. It is absolutely apalling. I really want to call her on her behavior, but I feel like that's out of line since she's neither my sister nor my friend.
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I am pissed and depressed and frustrated.

I had an interview on Thursday the 29th for a position as a receptionist/secretary at a nearby doctor's office. I got there about ten minutes early and found out, hey there are about eight other people waiting for an interview with this guy. This will be fun. And of course, being a doctor, he is running late. I finally get called back 2nd to last. While waiting, we had formed a sort of cheerleading team -- chorused "good luck" whenever someone ahead of us went in and "bye!" when someone left. By the time it was my turn, there was one girl remaining. I felt bad because there was no one left to be her cheerleader, so I promised I would wait for her, then I went into my interview.

Dr. Diliberto was a nice guy. He greeted me with a smile, a handshake, and a completely exasperated statement: "Would you believe I got over 500 responses??" He told me he was looking to quickly weed out a bunch of candidates to get a reasonable number for further interviews. He was mainly looking for someone with a good personality "who could handle the difficult calls" -- he was willing to train an inexperienced candidate as long as a she met the personality requirement. We spoke a bit more and he ended up saying that he really liked me even though I was overqualified ("not that that's a bad thing") and put four stars at the top of my resume. He walked me back out, and I re-entered the waiting room where Christina, the last remaining candidate, was still waiting. I chatted with her a bit, and said I'd wait for her to get out. Five minutes later, she was back. We compared notes on our way out to our cars, and she said that the doctor had said he liked both of us a lot. On Friday afternoon, I received a call from the office. I had a second interview.

On Monday the 2nd, I went in for my second interview with Dr. Diliberto. He gave me a tour of the office and a brief run down of the average appointment and what my responsibilities and benefits would be if I were to be hired. He said to expect a call sometime on Tuesday with news either way.

Tuesday came and went. No call.

I got the call on Tuesday. He "really liked me, but unfortunately," Dr. Diliberto had hired someone else. He asked if he could keep my resume in the "active" folder in case he lost another employee to the recession. He expects there might be another opening within the next few months. Apparently one of his current employees is considering leaving the state for financial reasons.

I'm pissed. I thought I had this one in the bag. If I didn't, I thought Christina did. But no, neither of us got the job. I lost a lot of my job hunt drive because that was just so, so disappointing. It's been two weeks and I haven't gotten back into the groove yet. Some please tell me that one of these opportunities will work out in my favor? Just one??


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I just read the most appalling thing on the Humane Society website. Two teenagers in New York put an eight week old kitten in an 500 degree oven and left it there to roast to death. The older of the two got a year in prison. One measly year. And she's not allowed to have pets for three years. How is this justice? How does this in any way balance out the heinous crime that she committed? We need much, much harsher punishments for people who treat non-human lives so callously.

Oh, and her reasoning? She doesn't like cats.


nohanii: (Default)
Apparently pauline's boyfriend has a key to the apartment. Meaning, he can come in whenever he wants regardless of whether or not anyone is home. This seems very wrong to me. I've been with Dan for nearly four years now, and he doesn't even have a key. Persilla Queen of the Desert has been with this guy for two, maybe three months and he has a key. I made sure to introduce Dan to my roommates right off the bat so they would know who he was; I barely even know this guy's name. Does this seem right or okay to anyone else? Persilla is acting like the apartment is hers and hers alone. I know I share this space with two other girls, even though nearly everything here is mine and I've been here two years longer than her.

Ugh.

Move out day is TOMORROW. I am so excited, I can't wait!!

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I woke up at nearly 3 this morning to Pauline having sex. IN THE SAME DAMN ROOM. How rude can this girl get?

This situation is ridiculous. I'm going to talk to Xiomara about it and see if she'll help me with an "intervention."


nohanii: (Default)
So, after finally getting into my room, I took a shower. I had to try to dry off and get dressed in the muggy bathroom because Miss Dumbass and her boyfriend were still in the bedroom. So, after dressing, I went to the closed bedroom door, opened it, and walked in. Persilla Queen of the Desert was half naked (getting dressed), and her boyfriend was fully dressed. I ignored them, but as I went to my dresser to put some clothes away, I heard her boyfriend say in a low voice (though plenty loud for me to hear, as I was standing five feet from him): "Something tells me that we'll be the jerks who just walk in." Uh, excuse me, jackass? You've been monopolizing MY bedroom for four hours now, and you're mad at me for walking into my unlocked bedroom. Fuck you, dirtwad.

Ugh I've really had enough of these two idiots.


nohanii: (Default)
This is getting ridiculous. Persilla Queen of the Desert (aka Pauline) has decided that it is quite all right to lock me out of the room any time she chooses so that she can have sex. This has happened at least five times in the last week.

On Sunday, I got up somewhat early (8-9 am) and went into the living room so I wouldn't bother her or her boyfriend who were still asleep in the bedroom. They woke up soon after that and locked the door and started having sex while I was in the living room. I wasn't even dressed for the day yet. I had to go knock on the door to be allowed into my own room so I could get my clothes and leave. Well, I left the door open because I would be going in and out for a bit while getting prepared for the day. I walked in through the OPEN bedroom door and walked right in on her going down on him. Fortunately, the blanket was strategically placed so I didn't see much of him, but I got an eyeful of her fat ass. Seriously?? The door was OPEN, dipshit!

After coming home from the gym today, the bedroom door was wide open. Turns out, they were napping. Fine, whatever. But now, I'm locked out of my room AGAIN while they have sex AGAIN. Once or twice is fine. But nearly every day? Enough is enough. I get that this is a relatively new relationship, but still. Some basic courtesy would be appreciated: a) don't lock me out of the room that we share while I'm home, b) don't have sex on my furniture (which I know they've done at least 2 or 3 times), and c) don't have sex while I'm home!! My sex life has suffered because I follow all three of this guidelines. I hate that it has, but I value some semblance of peace in the apartment. I really want to start violating all of these "guidelines" all the time, just to show her how rude it is.

What would you do if you were in the same situation, flist?


nohanii: (Default)
I am seriously Unimpressed with Thursday. The nurse at the student health clinic did a terrible job taking my weight and overshot by a minimum of ten pounds (apparently she doesn't know how to work a scale?), talked to me while taking my blood pressure (which no nurse has ever done in the history of ever), got a very brief history of my problem, and rushed me off to another room, where she told me to take off my pants and put on a gown so the doctor could take a look at my lower back. I started to comply, even though I thought it odd. I was wearing low-rise pants, so my back was perfectly accessible just by lifting up my top. I decided, after taking off my shoes that it was a  ridiculous request and I would not abide by it. In the end, it didn't matter. My (young) doctor came in and briefly asked me about my problem. He then proceeded to poke the length of my spine and test my reflexes. He didn't find any abnormalities (thank god). He handed my a sheaf of papers descibing lower back pain and exercises and stretches that I could do to help. He had decided what was wrong before he even saw me. When I noted that I do several of the stretches regularly, and that they don't do any good because I'm too flexible, he dismissed it and told me to do the exercises. Without checking my flexibility. Then he gave me another paper for the cashier and left. The cashier is another story entirely. I arrived at the desk with the paper and checkbook in hand. The sole clerk hiding behind the glass was entering some paperwork in the computer didn't even glance in my direction. After a polite interval had passed, in which I was still resolutely ignored, I started writing out the check. Her only comment was to make it out to UC Regents. I had to ask her what the charge was. I slid the check under the glass along with the paper. She took it, again without looking at me, and continued with her work, completely ignoring my papers and the fact that I was still standing there. I had to ask her for a recept. She finally looked at me as if this were some novel idea, ran my check, gave me the receipt, and immediately dismissed me. I am completely flabbergasted at the utter lack of courtesy and customer service present in every step of my visit to the health clinic. I am currently looking for a way to lodge a complaint against the clinic. We may be students, but we are still paying customers and should be treated well, not dealt with brusquely and dismissed. UGH.

The other spot of major disappointment with the day is in regards to the grade I received on my physiology lab report. Of all the four or so lab reports I've written in the past, I have always gotten an A-, minimum. This one? Below average. C. WTF. I requested the return of my paper and asked the professor to explain what I did wrong. His response? My introduction wasn't long enough, I didn't include enough in the methods section, I didn't fully answer all the questions that he posed us, my discussion could have contained more in-depth analysis and comparisons of the results. He said all of this without even looking, without even glancing at my paper. How he remembered in exactly what ways my particular paper failed out of the 71+ that he had to grade, I don't know. Oh, and my introduction? Was two pages long. My methods section? Any other TA would have said it was too in-depth for a lab report. The questions that he asked? Were ridiculously hard to answer. That graph I left out was never requested, yet it cost me two points. The professor has two or three different versions of the lab report "guidelines" posted, all of which contradict each other at least once. Essentially, I feel like I was expected to read his mind in order to get a good grade. His exams are the same way--a correct answer isn't enough, you have to provide more than you think is necessary. Sometimes I think he misinterprets things on purpose so he can deduct points. All in all, I am sorely disappointed with this professor. I am seriously considering emailing him to request a re-grade and include a list of reasons why I deserved a better grade. I have never ever received a below-average grade on any writing assignment, ever, so this is driving me more than a little insane.
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Pauline is so god damn effing annoying. Fucking whore thinks she's entitled to whatever the hell she wants, whenever. I was gone for less than ten minutes to pick Dan up. I came back, and there was a car in MY parking spot. I reported it to the leasing office because WTF, not cool. After FINALLY finding a free parking spot, I came back home.... to have Pauline tell me she took the spot because I was gone. I calmly notified her that she might want to move it because it was about to be towed. She flipped out, and I explained what happend. Her reaction? "What the fuck, you could have CHECKED?" I WAS STUCK IN MY CAR AND COULDN'T TELL THAT ANYONE WAS HOME. I thought it was some random ass car. I had no idea it was "hers" (when did she get a new car, anyway?). She went on to tell my that it's not MY spot, since I'm not paying more for it. I told her fine, stop using ALL of my stuff RIGHT NOW. All the pots, pans, chairs, cooking and eating utensils, the TV, TiVo, everything. If I catch her using any of my crap, I swear to god I'll have her fucking car towed every time I see it. I cannot WAIT to get out of here.  

Edit: Right after all of this went down, Xiomara called a meeting. She's decided that she shouldn't have to pay the cable bill since she doesn't use it
. I pointed out that I use barely any electricity unless it's really dark, and asked if I no longer had to pay the electricity bill. My point was, it would just be more complicated than it's worth. She complained that I've kicked her off the TV because my shows were recording (my old school TiVo only allows one show on at a time, can't watch and record something else). I'd given her the option of cancelling the recording, or allowing it to continue and watch her show on my personal TV in the bedroom. She also complained about all the baths I take. Last week, I took a shower/bath with Dan because the roommates weren't home and I never get to. Xiomara came home in the middle of it and basically made us get out so she could shower, too. Yesterday, I took a long soak because I'd gotten my period and was cramping. Again, no one was home when I started. Xiomara came home at some point during, and essentially demanded that I get out because she had to pee. I told her I was bathing and that there was a restroom by the pool if she really couldn't wait. So, I've had two baths in the nine weeks she's been living here, and apparently that's a problem.

I left after all this went down because I'd told Dan I would take him to Costco. When I got home, Pauline and Xiomara were gone (thank god), but guess what? That chair that she moved away from her desk is back. She used my stuff while I was gone after I'd told her not to if she wanted the spot. So, spot's mine, end of discussion.

Edit the second: She just got back, and guess what? She's using the chair. Again. After saying she wouldn't use any of my stuff ever again. She's so stupid.

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Catherine

August 2011

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