#im just saying if id called my friend a bitch shed just be like rude and that would be the end of it
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
pinazee · 10 months ago
Text
In What Are Little Girls Made Of, there is something so adorable about jim, completely trapped, his only chance to be saved is by possibly planting a false idea into the androids mind, deciding to go with being a prick to spock because that would be so out of character it would warrant looking into
38 notes · View notes
strawberryspeachy · 5 years ago
Text
3 years ago my cat had kittens... i could still talk to my mom kind of.... and... things were ok aside from me being upset over some dumb boy
And i was thinking how i wanna go back. I miss my mom so much i want to go back. And was like. Well that wasnt a good time, a year before was better right?
Leading me to the reason why I was so miserable as a kid.
Look. Im a miserable person - i dont want to blame it all on one person but fuck man...
Everytime i think about times where i was happy, i realize SHE was the reason I WASNT.
Middle school - i had friends. I was smart. I liked school. I had hobbies and dreams. But i never wanted to leave school because i didnt want to come home. I didnt want to come home becauae of HER
I keep saying her like im talkig about my mom. Im not. Im talking about my great grandmother
I just sat here for 10 minites telling myself im stupid and making things up and making things out to be worse than they are.... i bet that thinking comes from her in all honesty
Thinking, “did she love me?” Now. I dont care. I dont miss her. Everytime i think about her its upsetting that i had her in my life... the only good thing i can ever say about her is “i know what its like to have a strict parent” THATS NOT GOOD. like fucking thanks for screaming at me every holiday to eat correctly. Now i know table manners. Thats all you did for me - while making me dread every fucking family dinner which aside from you was wonderful because my family used to be cool.
She ruined every holiday. She didnt want decorations. Were were gonna burn down the house. We were making a mess. We were being loud. She doesnt want this or that in HER HOUSE. She constantly chased everyone out the door because she NEVER had anything nice to say. The second she entered the room everyone made excuses to leave. When shed open her fucking creaking door the laughter would stop, smiles turn to cringes and wed all look at each other with the “welp the funs over” face
She was just so mean. You cant be happy because you’re not doing something she wanted you to do. Or you fucked something up. Theres some reason that youre supposed to be upset or concerned. BUT YOU CANT WIN THAT WAY EITHER - if youre upset - how dare you. You have so many good things you entitled undeserving brat. Fucking appriciate everything. The best way was some mixture where you smile but are ready to be pissed the fuck off in a moments notice. Cause if you wete more pissed off than she was the yelling was cut in half and mostly just her telling you not to give her that attitude - instead of a whole lecture on why you’re a fucking failure.
Everytime i think of a better time in my life. Its not even that much better because of that demon in my life. Constantly teling me shes gonna kick me out of the house. Constantly telling me im a burden to my mom. Constantly telling me im the reason for all her problems and saying that my animals were going to banrupt her.
The only thing i did well in her eyes was that i got good grades in school. She beleived my report card. Thats all. Pretty amazing that she could beleive that but thought i was too damn stupid to graduate college because there was a physical paper in front of her that she recognized
If i cooked or cleaned i did it wrong - if i didnt i should have
Why am i always at my best friends house?! “Her family doesnt want you there!!”
Why dont you play with your animals?!? Stop making noise playing with your animals!!
There was no escaping her. I broke my nose in a car accident and my friends mom took me for surgery. She came running out of the house to complain to my friends mom about how she could have taken me but i didnt ask her and im so awful - right after my surgery. Cause like why dont you want someone whose constantly bitching at you and telling you how shit you are to take you to a stressful surgery?
Conditional love... i already knew that... but its like the first time ive used it myself and havent just attributed the description.
She was my step - great grandmother. Shes all i ever knew but we werent blood related.
She loved my grandfather and my aunt and even my aunts two kids - the way family loves. She was still a bitch but she didnt disown them when they bugged her
The rest of us. Including my mom. Conditional love. Its not like she never did nice things. But she did expecting something in return.
Maybe shes why i dont like dealing with people im not allowed to say no to. Like i have such a deep seeded hatred for that relationship that the second i sense it i just refuse to deal with it again. You couldnt say no to her. You couldnt. If you said no to her about ANYTHING pack your fucking bags and get the hell out of HER HOUSE. that was her favorite two words. She needed my moms and grandfathers help and asked them to move in. But. We were guests in HER HOUSE.
I had some trauma as a kid that I probably would have gotten over if the happy family i knew before we moved to my great grandmothers stayed that way. But my aunt was always miserable. My uncle ran away as fast as possible. And my mom. A people pleaser. You know those old traditions where a man marrys and then he fucks off and does whatever he wants leaving his wife to serve his parents hand and foot. That was my moms life. He cheated on her and the demon made fun of her for everything, apparently constantly telling “dumb poloc” jokes. My mom cleaned everyday and cooked and took care of everyone and took care of our farm basically alone. I tried to help... i was a kid... and she was depressed. You wouldn’t know if you didnt really listen - which no one else in my family did.
And i looked at my mom everyday. I didnt really get it. All i knew was she was a wonderful kind generous happy - all around best human. And yet. Her life sucked. And she was sad. And i wonder if my mom would have been so sad if not for the demon...
My grandfather loved his mom.... but he used to never come in the house. My whole life. He was always out. The moment she died, he was always in the house. Maybe because he missed her and was sad.... but... i dont think so.... he stopped drinking a case of beer every night too
This whole post just to say... im mad that if goven the chance... im not sure if id go back to any of those times where i had to live with the demon... even though everything else at those times were good... the amount of stress and misery she gave me... almost outweigh the good... and. There was alot of good. I miss so many things.
I wanna be with my mom again. Without the dementia. I wanna be with my animals. I wanna be with my friends. I want second chances. I wanna make changes.
I loved her dude...i used to wish good things on her... i beleived she truely cared about me...
When she was dying. She couldn’t talk. Her friend called. I offered to put the phone to her ear. The friend was dismayed when i aswered. The tone of her voice changed. And she went “oh. The granddaughter.” She asked to talk to the demon as though i was holding the phone away from her and like i just wanted to hear whatever secrets she may have and wouldnt actually put it to her ear. She hung up angerly... as though... i wasnt an upset family member... i got preoccupied by the pleading look in my greatgrandmothers eyes. She wanted me to put the phone to her ear... but the woman had already hung up. I told her she had to go but said shes thinking of her. She looked so disappointed that she couldn’t hear it herself. And i felt... still feel bad... for the dying woman in her last days...
But maybe if she hadnt constantly talked about me as though i was the worst person because i dared to live my life the same as my aunt with animals and friends. But then go off to college but take a server job when o couldnt find a better one. Talked about me like i tried to kill her myself and that i was so lazy and rude and terrible. Maybe. Her bitchy friend. Wouldnt have hung up upon even having to interact with me
And then. Even in death. She made sure that i knew my place. she wrote her obituary herself. She put my aunts kids who are 13+ years younger than me, ahead of me, when listing her great grandchildren.
0 notes
ajadelight · 6 years ago
Text
Cell Phone Affair - Part Two
Amanda left the bus stop laughing to herself about John’s reaction. She made her way through the park, rounded a corner and saw a line of people waiting for service from a food vendor. Art’s Breakfast Bagels - Your Way, his sign announced. She danced her way along the line until she caught the attention of a fabulous dress woman. She stopped and looked at her with sad eyes.    “What’s your problem?” the woman asked.    “Hunger for one. It’s been two days since I ate last. Other than that, some jerk stole my cell phone and I need to call my sister to get picked up for a party tomorrow. I always attend family parties, even if they don’t like me. At least they feed me well.”    The woman frowned and shook her head. “I swear! Don’t they teach you anything at school? Did you graduate?”    “Yes, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. Would you be kind and let me use your cell phone. I promise I won’t run away with it.”    “You want a sandwich also?”    “That would be nice, but I won’t bother you about that. I’ll find something later or hit the free soup kitchen for lunch.”    The woman groaned and got her cell phone from her purse. She handed it to her and then hooked a finger in a belt loop of her jeans.    “It might break, but it will slow you down enough for me to grab you and knock a knot on your head.”    Amanda gave her a huge smile. “Cool.”    She dialed a number and waited. “Hey, Susan. Sorry I had to use someone else’s phone. Mine got stolen. What do I want? I want to see you on Saturday at noon at the water fountain in Walton Park. Why? Because you’re a coward and I’m tired of it all. You’re a great woman to sleep with, but enough is enough. If you don’t show and discuss it with me, I’m going to the Walton Post and come out of the closet and drag you with me. Maybe you’re joking about what you’re doing, but I’m not. I’m serious and you’re hurting me by treating me like a piece of shit. So, be there at noon on Saturday or prepare for exposure in the papers! It’s not right for you to play with my feelings and emotions and think you can walk all over me. You spend 6 months being intimate with me and now you want to be my friend and say it’s all my mistakes for loving you? Yes. I said noon on Saturday at the fountain in Walton Park. You’d better keep that date, woman! I love kissing your ass, but this time I’ll kick it and kick it good! Goodbye.”    She disconnected the call and handed the phone back to the woman. “Thanks. That was mighty kind of you. You have a wonderful day now.”    “Whoa! Are you okay? What the hell was that? Was that your sister or some other family member?”    Amanda frowned. “No. I wouldn’t be doing no lesbian love with a family member. That was Susan. She came on to me and I tried it once and found I like it and I liked her. For 6 sweet months, it was bliss and she kept insinuating and hinting that she wanted a very long-term relationship. I opted to accept because the love and everything with her was so real. Then wham. She’s out of my life and it’s my fault, but she can’t tell me why? All I did was love her. Bitch.”    “In that case, I agree with you. But why my cell phone? Oh, I get it. If you used yours, she’d never answer. Bitch. I hope she calls me back. I’ll add my icing for her cake and grind it in her face. You might be down-and-out, but you’re attractive and you’ve got a good heart and personality. You probably deserve better than her, but I’ll let you make up your own mind on that. And you have a good day also.”    “I will now. Thanks. Will you come to the park on Saturday at noon to support me?”    “I’ll be there. I’ll rearrange everything to get there and help you. She has me riled up now.”
   Amanda walked away, nibbling on an Everything Bagel with cream cheese, compliments of Danielle, and feeling good. She came across a taxi stand and people were lined up, getting inside yellow cars like lemmings jumping off cliffs. She walked past them dancing and humming and stopping occasionally to play some guitar and bow for their applause.
   She approached the 7th person in line, a man wearing dress pants and a long-sleeved blue striped shirt with no tie.    She waited until he finished his call and put on her pitiful, helpless look and waved timidly. “Excuse me, sir. I’m down on my luck now. A wonderful angelic woman back the street bought me a bagel to calm my hungry stomach. Some jerk stole my cell phone and I need to make an important call. I know that look. It’s not important to you, but it is to me. I’m supposed to be in Rantoul in 30 minutes to babysit for a cousin who’s paying cash and I’m not going to make it. Unless you want to give me a ride and detour to Rantoul before you go to where you’re going. Where are you going?”    “To work. I work odd hours at the ice factory, like from 10 to 6 4 days a week and 12 hours on Saturday.”    “No rest for the weary and overburdened. So, will you give a ride or I could use your cell phone and let my cousin know I’m not going to make it.”    He looked her up and down and handed her his cell phone. “You might be down, but you look too good to ride with you in a taxi right now. Help yourself until it’s my turn.”    “Thanks, dude.” She pressed the last-call function, highlighted the number and pressed call.    “Hey, honey. What’s up with you today? Do you miss me that much?”    “Not really. Don’t tell me I got the wrong number again. You don’t sound familiar. Who is this?”    “This is Jean and you have the right number. It came up Clyde on the Caller ID. What are you doing with his phone?”    “Using it. That should be obvious without asking unless you’re a slow learner. Are you?”    “NO! Who are you?”    “I’m Amanda Collins. And you?”    “I’m Jean! I told you that already! What are you doing with my husband?”    “Oh, him. I’m probably doing the same thing that you’re doing, but I’m doing it a little, no, a whole lot better than you.”    “What?”    “You didn’t know that? Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who take life for granted. You know, like after you say, ‘I do,’ you can slack off and wear granny dresses and curlers to bed and everything is all paradise. I got news for you, honey. That’s not the way it works. You have any kids?”    “NO! And when I get my hands on you, you won’t ever have them either! Give him back the phone!”    “Not yet. I’m not done and it’s rude to try to end the conversation early.”    “You’re pissing me off, woman!”    “Oh well. I enjoy golden showers on occasion. Tell you what, meet me at the fountain in Walton Park at noon on Saturday and we’ll take turns pissing on each other while the cameras roll.”    “Give him the damned phone, woman! Now!”    “Or what? Do you know where I am? Do you know where your husband is? I do.”    “Give it to him.”    “Here? You want me to give it to him here?”    “What are you doing?” asked Clyde, finally stopping his gaze and daydream and paying attention.    “I don’t know, but this strange woman wants me to kiss you at a minimum, right here.”    She stepped close and kissed him without moving the phone. “Wow! You do kiss very well. That was so good, I’d like a repeat. Come on. We still have time before we reach the taxi platform.”    “What are you doing? I’ll kick your ass, bitch!” yelled Jean.    “Just got a couple of great kisses from Clyde. Wow! Got a little worked up on them. But thanks. I appreciate that opportunity.”    “You’re welcome,” Clyde said. “Who are you talking to?”    “I’m talking to some woman named Jean. Do you know her?”    “My wife? What are you doing, crazy woman?”    “I’m doing what she said to do. Here, ask her if you don’t believe me.    “Jean, what the hell are you doing? Did you tell her to kiss me?”    “Yes, I think, I said give it to him, or you, but I didn’t know it was really you. She’s confusing. Who the hell is she?”    “I don’t know. I’m waiting for a taxi to go to the train station and she just stopped out of nowhere.”    “Then put her on the damned phone again!”    “Hello? This is Amanda. What can I do for you?”    “Besides drop dead, what are you doing?”    “Enjoying some great phone sex. I think this is the foreplay part. Kind of kinky, but very exciting. What do I do next?”    “Get ready for a fight, bitch! Where do we meet?”    “At noon on Saturday by the fountain in Walton Park. Do you know where that is?”    “Yes, I know where that is?”    “But not where your husband is?”    “Stop it!”    “Sounds like you did a long time ago. That’s a shame. He has a lot to offer.”    “That does it! I’ll be at the park at noon and at 12:05, you will die!”    “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, like saying ‘I Do’ in a chapel or elsewhere and not holding yourself to it.”    “Tell me that after I hold your head under water for 10 minutes, waterlogged heathen bitch.”    “Yada-yada-yada,” said Amanda.    She handed Clyde the phone. “She hung up on me. I’ve never been that rude to anyone in my life. And she hung up on me. She lays into me with all those threats and it’s my fault? I don’t think so. Anyway, you’re up next. You have a great day and see if you can get Jean to enroll in Anger Management classes. It might improve your marriage.”    He slid the phone back in his coat pocket. “You’re fucking unreal! Do you know that? How can you do that to people? Why hasn’t someone killed you before now?”    She shrugged. “I don’t know. It must be my angel-like face and personality. Are you coming to the park with her on Saturday? One of us will be the kicked and one will be the kicker.”    “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, weird woman.”
0 notes