I seriously hate my mother. Well, sometimes. Sometimes I can stand her, sometimes I think I even like her, but really, generally, I can't stand her. I don't know why she does the things she does. I mean, why does she always have to criticize me? Can't she say something nice every once in a while? It's gotten to the point where I'm used to her saying bad things about the jobs I do, and it makes me really uncomfortable when she says I did a good job.

My family has absoloutely no bonds with each other. Well, possibly my brothers are 'bonded', because they sleep in the same room and talk a hell of a lot, but generally, there is no existing bond in our family, no sense of protection what so ever. I mean, my mother tries sometimes, and she means well (sometimes), but generally there is absoloutely nothing resembling protection in this here family. Chances are my brothers would not offer to beat up a boyfriend who's treated me badly. They never have, and I doubt they ever will. I know other people who would in a split second, but not my family. They'd just quietly fade to the sidelines.

Except maybe my dad. He's sweet. A little airheaded, but well meaning. He's not the stupid airhead type. Not at all. He teaches physics, chemistry and math, and belongs to Mensa ('the high IQ society'). So he's extremely intelligent, but a little daft, a wee bit 'vacent' at times. Kind of like myself, I suppose. Maybe that's why we get along. There's not much of a bond there, either, though. It's weak. Quite. I mean, I don't know if he'd ever stick up for me in a time of crisis. He never really seems to me to be the physical type, though he has done Tai Chi for, like, ever, and isn't that a form of marital arts if you speed it up?...And he can quite easily break my wrist. I know that because he uses the little trick on me when he wants me to get up and do my jobs and I don't wanna move. He sticks his thumb in the crease of my wrist in a the rest of his fingers on the back of my hand, and bends my hand forward and forward and...Ya. It hurts, but it's a good motivation, and if I didn't move chances are he quite possibly could break my wrist.

So other than my dad, our family is a very...well...nonexistant family. We live in the same house, and are related by blood, but that's were the bond ends. I kind of wish my brothers were protective about me. I mean, I like to be able to handle my own, but it's nice to know someone is there to back me up.

My mother would not back me up. Ask her, and she would say she would, but I think that if I was ever in a tight spot, she wouldn't try and help me, merely say that it was my own fault for letting myself get where I was, and now I have to figure out a way to get out.

I really wish she'd stop criticizing me, though. I don't know if she knows this, but she has really set herself up to be disliked by me. Isn't it said that you should make sure the good times outweigh the bad, 10 to 1? Or something like that. Well, with her it's opposite. One good time, ten bad times.

And then she gets all bitchy when I don't want to go shopping with her or let her do my make-up. I WONDER WHY?! Hmm...maybe...just maybe...it could possibly be...that...I DON'T LIKE HER?...Could that be it? I mean, I want to coexist with her, at least until I move out, but until then I just want to live and let live. Is that too much to ask? I think not.

And as for shopping and make-up, the reason why I hate doing that with her is that she doesn't understand what I'm trying to tell her. She's really easily offended, so I don't want to tell her that the pants she picked out for her are incredibly ugly in my eyes, are not my style, my color, and even if she bought them for me, I'd never wear them...I don't want to tell that to her, because she'll get offended and flustered and say she "can't do anything right" and is just "here to pay and nothing else"...and I don't want to tell her that's true...I like shopping with my dad, however, because he doesn't care if the material I picked out and absoloutely love would pick up lint like nobody's business...or that the print is outrageous...or the colour doesn't match my skin tone or eye colour...I'm sixteen, for god's sakes! I don't want to pay attention to these things!...I want to be stupid and free while I can, I don't want to grow up too quickly. What's the fun in that? You spend your teens trying to look older, and the rest of your life trying to look like you're a teen...So I'm going to look like a teenager while I'm still a teenager, then spend the rest of my life basking in the glory of being myself, not pining for the 'good old days', because really, they're not better, they're just different. I love being a teenager, because I can do so many stupid things, and it's expected of me.

But I'm straying from the point. My point is, I hate shopping with my mother. Sure, color and skin tone matter and all, but really, not that much. And if I want to just buy black clothes, let me buy black clothes! That should solve the problem of trying to wear complimentary colors.

And if I want to wear nothing but lipstick, a bit of powder and a little bit of mascara to the prom, hell, let me! It's my loss if people mock me for being 'under done', or some such crap. I mean, wouldn't people mock me more for being over done than under done? And make-up smudges. I think it's better to go light and pretty than heavy and 'seductive', or what ever. And if I wear a lot of make-up, it's not going to look right. Why? Because I do not feel comfortable in a lot of make-up when I'm not on stage. The absolout max I wear generally is lipstick, and, if I'm going out somewhere, or it's for a special occasion, I'll wear mascara, maybe a little shimmery, colourless eye shadow...and if I'm feeling playful, I'll wear sparkles, but I don't really classify sparkles as make-up...they're more of an assessory...And I know what my mom would want to do...Eye shadow (green, probably), mascara, blush (I *hate* wearing blush with a serious passion), lipstick (her favorite shade), lipliner, eye liner...God. I only wear that kind of make-up when I'm in a play. I feel more comfortable in just lipstick, maybe a few dots of coverup for the odd blemish.

*sigh* Now I've gone from hateful to pissed off to vaguely unsettled. I don't like it. I wish something /really/ good would happen. Even this weekend I had lots of good plans, and every last one of them fell through. It makes me unhappy. *sigh*

Ah well. C'est la vie, I suppose.

Now I think I'm going to go lay on the floor and feel sorry for myself. And listen to some light metal. That should make me feel better.

.

Rosie.

PS, Now my mother has decided I don't get out enough and is going to kick me out of the house while she's out, even though I've hardly been home all weekend to do more than catch a few winks, grab a bite to eat and run out again. I think I'll go up to Brennain and Mystica's...but...I dunno...I don't want to load them with my problems...and I don't want to impose myself on them...*sigh*...

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