Grounded Yet Again
April 04, 2004, 6:45 p.m.

I should so not be home right now. But alas, 'tis my life with my father, the biggest dick in all of the universe.

I mean, he gets so defensive when you tell him to go screw himself. I wonder why...

Okay, let me explain.

So I asked Charlie, like, a week ago if he could drive me to the Fair today for Miriam's thingy, he said yes and whatnot.

But dad has been trying to keep in the house all damn day. He's just happy that he found an excuse to do so. First he said Charlie couldn't take me because it's too far to drop me off and then come get me. To solve that situation, I asked if Charlie could get a friend to go with him and stay at the fair. He agreed, and Dad shut his trap.

About half an hour before I supposed to leave, Charlie informs me that we'll be there late, because he hadn't told his friend to get ready yet. I didn't understand why, because he had a good hour to do so, and I can't just have others waiting on me-- it's totally irresponsible. So I yelled at him for being such an idiot, and he started laughing. Then, Gamal-- my exboyfriend-- Jazzmyn, mom, and then dad joined in on the laughter.

I don't appreciate being laughed at while I'm pissed. And god dammit, I had a right to be. But no one ever wants to take me seriously, and they just want to piss me off.

"It's not funny! Stop laughing!" They then bowled over in laughter. "Okay, whatever. Screw you guys!"

"What the hell did you just say?!" exclaimed my father. Oh, now he decides to stop laughing. Asshole. "Just who do you think you are talking to?"

"Everyone in this household who is laughing," said I.

"Don't listen to her, Daddy. She doesn't know what it means," defended Jazzmyn, trying to save the situation.

But fuck, I'm not about to back down from my father. "I know exactly what it means."

"Go to your room!"

"I was going anyway!" said I, then added under my breath, "You guys are so stupid."

"What did you just say?"

"Whatever! I'm going to my room!"

"You need to watch your mouth!"

"And you need to fall over and die," mumbled I again, then slammed the door behind me.

Mom knocked on my door minutes later to have a chat with me. I didn't really want to hear it because she usually talks a lot of crap. Half of the time she'll tell me I'm right to do something, but that I handled the situation incorrectly. And this time was no exception.

She says I was wrong to swear at my father, when I insist that "screw you" is not swearing.

"If I told him to eff off, I would've gotten slapped across the face. Screw you is a bit nicer."

"You still swore, Allison. It means the same thing."

"Well, so does poo and shit. They mean the exact same thing, but one is a bit more deragatory than the other."

"Don't play word games with me, Allison!"

Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just go away.

So she told me to apologize to him. I refused, saying that "I'll never apologize to that stupid man."

"That stupid man," she retorted, "provides you with everything you need."

"He also treats everyone like crap," said I, "that doesn't make him any better of a person. I don't need him."

"He's your father--"

"That doesn't mean I'll respect him, and I sure as hell won't apologize to him."

"You should respect him."

"I don't respect those who don't respect me. I never have, and I never will."

"You should respect your father."

"He disrespected me first. He wouldn't like it if I laughed in his face while he was frustrated. Does he expect a different reaction from me? No; he practically asked for me to 'swear' at him."

"I didn't say it was right at him to laugh at you--"

"Then why are you here?" I shot back, nastily.

"And I didn't say that the situation was fair towards you. I think it's totally unfair--"

"Then what's the problem?"

"You just need to apologize to your father."

"I will not apologize to that man!"

She walked out minutes later, getting frustrated with speaking to me.

A half hour after two, I called Miriam and told her I couldn't go. So here I am at 6 somethin', sitting around doing nothing.

Hell, I'm not even supposed to go on the computer right now. My cell phone is "taken away," as if that bothers me. I don't exactly have a cell phone, now do I? Seems to me Jazzmyn uses it more than I do.

I'll survive. No problem.

Grr. I have the beginnings of a migraine. If I snap at a few of you guys, my full apologies, but I'm not in the best of moods right now.

Happy Sunday, fuckers.

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