Avoid writing for physics much?

I am avoiding finishing my physics lab right now.
 I told my brother to turn his video game down (it was super loud and I need to work!).  He didn't say anything, and it was still loud, so I shouted it a little louder, rise and repeat until he's yelling COOL IT TEEP back at me.  When my brother yells, he just gets himself more and more worked up; he gets louder, harsher, more angry/aggressive and more sure that he is the victim of some injustice.  My brother has the tendency to escalate everyday situations into situations where I'm on my toes waiting for him to make the first move to start a fight.  Relatively minor things can turn into a barking fit with this kid.  For example,  he broke the ironing board when he tried to fold it down, so my mom took $12 out of his allowance (yes, my seventeen year old brother still gets an allowance.  I haven't had one since I was 13ish because I usually had cash from babysitting) to replace it.  When my mom mentioned this to him he freaked.  WHAT?( in his deep/King Kong is mad voice). He yelled NO in her face for about 5 minutes like she had been a bad dog or something.  When I say in her face, I mean in her face, like drill sergeant in her face. He also accused her of just want[ing] to take money away from [him].  All of this went on for around 10 minutes.  My mom barely reacted to showed barely any emotion the entire time, and he finally gave up and stormed off.  This is how we have to deal with him.  Dealing with my brother i these situations means allowing him to be verbally and physically aggressive without reacting in an angry way with him or letting him know that he's pushing your buttons.  Me getting him to turn the volume down today? Dealing with him in a preventative way.  It's impossible to do anything or speak with him like you would with any other person;  everything has potential to set him off.  A few months ago,  I came upstairs around midnight to grab something to eat, and my brother was still up playing video games.  We spoke briefly, but after that he hissed bitch at his video game.  I personally find swearing very unpleasant,  especially because I never would have gotten away with such a thing when I was his age and living at home.  I told him not to swear, to which he responded with a uuuuurgh.  Unwittingly, I took this opportunity to tell him how unattractive swearing was. He yelled at me to shut up.  I said something along the lines of what? Don't say that to me Michael.  He told me to shut up some more, I told him to go to bed, he said eff you (literally "eff you".  Not "fuck you".  "Eff you".  Weird.) I ended up turning the TV off, he said eff you some more,  I said that I was going to talk to our parents about this, he dared me to go tell them right then, I turned his Xbox off, and he got up in my face like he had with my mom, yelling at me to go tell them right then.  With another person, I probably would have yelled right back and ended up getting in a fight with them if I felt that I could hold my own, but I really don't want to get in a fight of any sort with my brother in the first place.  That place between the instinct to fight and defend yourself and the instinct to not hurt or fight with someone you care about is confusing and makes me shake in fear.  It's difficult to bring yourself to actually defend yourself when you're confused at how you even got to the point where you need to defend yourself because the how it got to that point doesn't actually make any logical sense at all.

My brother has always had issues, but I blame the fact that the tries to make me and my family submit to his will by aggressing us on the fact the he has been taking human growth hormone for the past few years.  Let me explain this one, if I can...  Since my brother was a little kid he has had to take a handful of pills a day to help him with his bipolar disorder and various learning disorders (believe me, it was necessary), which in turn has been stunting his growth all of that time (he was in the lowest percentile for height for his age or something like that)... I think that it has to do with all of those chemicals messing with this thyroid.   One of his (many) doctors said that he could take human growth hormone.  My parents wanted him to have the opportunity to be as tall as he might have been if he hadn't had to take so many pills all of those years, and we have good insurance through my mom's school.  Now he's big and tall, and I'm convinced that that is why he thinks that it's ok to yell at us however he wishes and aggress us however he sees fit.  And I can see how he might think this;  after I did tell my parents what how he was acting the night I mentioned before,  it was decided that he would loose a night of gaming every time he swore.  I haven't heard him swear once since,  but that wasn't the point when I talked to them about what happened- the point was how he was acting, and how he was freaking out at me.  He didn't even have to say that he was sorry or anything even though I was completely shaken for at least one whole day because this happened.  Having to deal with him is just the way it is around here and it sucks.  Probably means that I should move out right?

I think that this lab report is going to get finished in the morning.  Good night internet people.

Oh, and I have no good reason to use this gif other than it is crazy. Here goes.

Le face-desk

I am officially fed up with my study buddy.  I was starting to get annoyed with him when he started inviting me to do things outside of studying; I politely turned him down each time.  Studying with him is great because we can get a lot of stuff done, but I have absolutely no interest in spending time with him outside of doing homework/studying.  I actually thought he was gay at the beginning, but then he started him awkward-flirty/infer-that-he-is-not-gay thing.  And he is sooo awkward.

I was willing to put up with a little bit of awkwardness, but today he apologized for a text message he thought that I had seen in which his "crazy ex-girlfriend" was angry at him for studying with me and calling me nasty names.  What?  Seriously people.  Seriously.  Anyways... drama I don't need; I need to break up with my study buddy.  How does one go about doing that?  A text message that cuts right to the point?  Probably makes the most sense because we expect to study together or see each other at least once a day.  

For real.

Power Outage!

That's right! my power went out just around a half an hour ago, and along with it, my internet.  So here I am, writing my blogpost from Caribou in Knollwood Mall.  Now that I've finished all of the homework I needed to get done that requires the internet (as soon as I've finished this post that is), I have no reason to stay here in this lovely coffee shop because in my rush to get out of my dark house and to the internet, I forgot my laptop charger.  I'll be ok for a little while, my power is at 55%, but I still have a lab report to finish tonight. I was hoping to charge my laptop while I was here so I could go back to my dark home with a fully charged computer to finish my report with, but I guess that that's not going to happen. I would run back to my house and pick up the charger, but this place closes in 40 minutes, so there's hardly any point in doing that.  Which reminds me, I think that I saw the cause of this chaos on my way over here; five police cars were starting to block off part of the road where there appeared to be one of those cherry picker/power line trucks.  Maybe it was a downed line from all of the wind, and oh my god is it windy.  


Funny that this blog involves a minor domestic disaster, just as the last one did.  Maybe that'll be the new theme for this blog.  


Any ways, i'm thinking that I'm going to have to get to campus early to get this lab done.  Yippee. 


Now I should write a little about what I had originally meant to blog about; the fact that I need mace.  Pepper spray actually,  but mace has such a better ring to it.  Apparently pepper spray is the  better choice when it comes to defensive sprays, but Target doesn't sell either one of 'em.  


Now you may be wondering why I need pepper spray, and the answer is because I get creeped on a lot.  More specifically, I got creeped on on Friday on my bus ride home.  What happened was that I got on the bus and then this guy started motioning/grunting for me to sit next to him (ok, maybe grunting isn't the most accurate word because I had my headphones on, but you get the point). I said no of course (in a blunt and dismissing manner) and went to the seat in the back of the bus where I normally sit.  All of that would have been creepy, but not that creepy.  What really ticked me off was that he kept looking back at me (with the way the buses are set up, this actually takes quite a bit of effort).  I avoided eye contact/ looking in his direction at all the first few times he did this, and got really lucky when a woman sat in the seat in front of me; I hid my face behind her head (she even took out a newspaper, how lucky was I?) but was still able to see his body turning to try and look at me.  


Some people reading this might think that I'm making a big deal out of nothing here.  I probably didn't get how creepy this bus ride was well enough.  But I've been creeped on /seen friends get creeped  on enough by now to know that from here on out I'm going to want pepper spray for now on if I'm going to ride the bus.  


Ta-ta for now.  Hopefully I'll have some really awesome news for my next blog post, but it doesn't seem promising.

Blog Time

Had a physics test this morning, and I think that I might have rocked it - and by rocking it I mean passing. So I had a congratulatory Panda Buffet meal which has left me feeling sick.  Yuck.  Any ways, I guys I should inform the Internet/universe of the happening of my last week, because everyone is just dying to know.  But even if you aren't, here it goes.

Last weekend my seventeen year old brother flushed something down the toilet.  He will claim otherwise, but we have good reason to believe that it was in fact him flushing something down the toilet, intentionally or not, that caused all of the toilets to back up and flood the bathrooms with piss water.  Long story short,  my dad and my brother spent the entirety of Saturday breaking our plumbing system into order to fit our plumbing system. I'm talking about sledge hammering lead pipes and crap like that. 

Anyways, they never did find the mystery object, which escaped into the public sewer after after being pursued by my father for hours.  According to my dad, the object was reflective.  He figured this out by standing on the roof.  Ha ok, he figured this out by standing on the roof and looking down the whole that some how relates to the plumbing... I not entirely sure how to explain this one, but my dad was on top of the roof and fixing our plumbing at the same time last Saturday.  The rest is a mystery to me. 

And back to blaming my brother for all of this; both of my parents are in agreement that we was incredibly relieved that the object was not recovered.  So now I'm left to imagine what the object could have possibly been... Was it drug related?  That is where my mind went immediately. Or, was it something he stole? I'm not aware that my seventeen year old brother does either of those things. 

N.E.WAYS.

If you have any observation skills at all, you have probably noticed a little ad in the upper right hand corner of this blog. Click it.  I want to see how much money I can make if someone clicks it.  I want to see if google will send me a check in the mail for a penny.  I'm just curious. 


Alright, have a good weekend all.I'm going to curl up in a ball in the library til my stomach chills out and then find a bus home.

As if I wasn't vain enough... now I have a blog

About the title:  I was thinking about this blog... and how it totally allows my totally vain self to be ever vainer than I already am.  Scary thought that one- being more vain than I already am.

Today's topic is my lunatic mother and her lunacy.  Love her.  But I'm starting to realize that living with her now won't be nearly as easy as living with her in high school was.  And I guess things would be easier if I were doing better in school too. But O how she can ruin my day before it has even begun; on Friday, I decided to sleep in for an hour instead of going to campus early, and while I was trying to get some extra sleep in she came into my room and started telling me that she had been thinking about how I was having a hard time concentrating while studying and asking me if there was "something going on?"  Gawd let me sleep.  It totally made me grumpy all day.  A few months ago, I was telling her about how I was worried for one of my friends that had been driven out of her house by her family because she came out to them as a lesbian. Then she asked me if I was going to come out to her as a lesbian.  GAWD.   No.  Urg.  Her most recent attempt to explain why I'm struggling in school is that I might have ADD.  This is actually a reasonable thing to say because both my dad and my brother have ADD/ADHD.  But even if I do have ADD, I've been able to manage it fine enough all these years (ok, not in the past year or so, but whatever), just have to get back into the habit of... doing nothing but studying. Ever.  Homework will just have to become my new best friend.

Ah this sounds like the crap that other people went through in high school... ok I know it's not that bad, but she seems to believe that there's something wrong with me, which makes her not a very good person to live with. (O yeah, so I guess that saying things like "are you going to come with?" and ending sentences with the word with is a midwestern thing... yes? no? ...with?)

O! Update! She just came into my room and apologized for being all up in my business! About the studying that is.  She can't complain if she's not paying!  That's one step in the right direction at least.  

ja. ja. ja.

No tengo mucho decir, pero ese blog es para los lenguajes campanudos (ese es la translación que mi di Google Translate por la palabra inglés rant) y por eso... voy a despotricar (de Google Translate, otra vez) en español.  ¡Pero espera! ¡Hay más! Voy a despotricar en español... sobre despotricar en español. ¡Ja! Y no voy usar el itálico por la letra ahora.

Bueno, voy a empezar con ese: Me encanta el español.  Y pienso que la razón sola que puedo escribir cualquier cosa en inglés es porque aprehendí el español.  Luché con el escribir por toda mi vida, y el leer también.  Ese es algo con que todos los miembros de mi familia inmediata han luchado.  Pero cuando aprendí el español, tuve que aprender poner mis ideas en formas muy muy simplistas porque no sabe basta de la idioma decir las cosas como parecían en mi mente.   Conozco a gente que me discrepa en mi estilo de escribir; "¿porque podrías decirlo así cuando puedes decirlo con fluidez hermosa?"  Me parece que esa gente tiene otras problemas con el escribir y que a veces no puede decir cosas en otra maneras, y está pegada en una frase por horas y horas.  Aprender el español me enseña pensar en frases completas.
Por eso, me encanta lo que aprender el español ha hecho para me.

Ahora, como el español relaciona al lenguaje campanudo para me; todo que escribo es un lenguaje campanudo, y por dos años, todo que he escrito en la universidad ha sido en español (con la excepción de los papeles por las clases de química).  Más recientemente, hay estado la adición de otro elemento en mis papeles de españoles lenguajes campanudos; ginebra.  Ese es un último recurso, pero hace el trabajo.    Una amiga y yo usamos esa técnica el semestre pasado, y parece que puedo escribir 1/2 pagina por cada trago de ginebra; 1/2 ppt es mi kilometraje.

Seriously. Can I blog in Spanish sometimes?  I need the practice; I'm not taking a Spanish class this semester.

Captains Log, Thursday

This is my blog. In the context of the class, it will be a "personal blog".  I don't have a theme yet. Maybe the theme will be something like awesome or rant. Could rant be my theme? I really want that to be my theme.
So here it goes. Rant number one:

I am stuufing the a computer lab, eating chinese food with a steak knife.  You might wonder, why on earthwould you eat chiene food with a steak knife you crazy lady? Well I'll tell you why; I don't have a fork. The knife was still in my backpack from yesterday's lunch.  Another good question might be, why are you so spacey that you would forget the fork that you had in your hand this morning specifically becasue you wanted to eat that chinese food with it? Well, I didn't get very much sleep last night -only four hours- so you know... 'Cause you were up all night doing calculus due later today. Yeah. 'Cause your an irresponsible student. Hey now!?! How do you know all of this anyways? Dude, whatever.

Alright. Not sure what that was. But back to eating my chinese food!
But seriously, K-man; can rant be my theme? I could like discuss what makes rants so awesome or research them somehow. It could be sweet.

Testing, testing, 1 2 3