here's another one

Well the day started off real well. I went in late to work, externship at the DA's office. There was a fire in the hills and made the sky gray and ashes fall all day. The smell of burnt everything made into the office and the whole building stunk of ashes. But still, the day was going well. I'm finally adjusting well to working in a crappy environment.

The crap didn't hit the fan until I came home. I parked my car, then decided to go grocery shopping. Came back...still going well. Correction - It wasn't until dinner that the crap hit the fan.

My dad called me ugly. Then fat. Then proceeded to grap the fat around my stomach. He's an alcoholic. "My dad is an alcoholic." There's something really wrong about that sentence. He's not the kind of alcoholic that TV portrays...selling dope on the streets. He's the white collar alchy with a family. He tells me I'm probably going to be the happiest when he dies. Sadly enough, he's probably right. Well...not "happy," but a part of me will be relieved. I'm tired of putting up with this shit. I wanted to throw his drink on his face and then tell him if he really wants a drink, to lick it off his damned self.

Later this evening, my mom told me to shut up and slammed the door on my face. Really - in English. She told me to shut up. [And there goes my dad, walking my dog around the block at 9pm, drunk... Nice.] I screamed at her and told her to stop taking her frustrations out at me. I think I get upset with my mom b/c she doesn't stick up for me. When my dad yells at my mom for nonsense things, I'm in his face, telling him to back off. But when my dad is telling me I'm fat and ugly, she just stands there. Why!? I know what she's gonna say...that she's rather just keep quiet to end the madness faster. That's BS to me. When you remain silent, no good comes out of it. Silence is the ultimate enemy, as cheesy as that sounds, b/c she's letting my dad go one believing that it's okay. It's okay to drink and say smack about the kids. It's okay to constantly put people down. It's okay to complain about everything and everyone. It's okay to me verbally, emotionally abusive.

Well, here's what I say:
IT'S NOT OKAY!!!

So it feels just like my first year... Fighting and yelling. I'm sick of protecting my mom. I don't even know when I thought it was my duty to. She doesn't even seem to appreciate it. I knew this good streak would have to end someday. Just yesterday, I would tthought to myself, gosh this can't last forever. Sure enough, it didn't. I must say, I did handle it better tonight than my past incidents. I cried for only 15 minutes, called danny, and now I'm moving on. I'll read Con Law and try to forget the matter. This sounds pathetic, but I can't wait to get married and live in a house of my own...away from the madness that is family.