complaints.

My brother thinks I telepathically told him that I gave him permission to have my room. He keeps referring to it as his and asking me to not “muck it up.” No. I’m sorry if you taped up a few posters of naked women on my walls but that doesn’t make it yours. The Femme Mom usually settles sibling disputes like this but she’s in the south visiting her parents. Now it’s just me and my brother, dueling it out for the space.

I have the upperhand, I think, considering I’m a girl and need my personal space and The Femme Mom has missed me so much that she’ll bend to my every will. That’s manipulation and I’m scarily good at it.

Other news from the suburbs of Philly - my niece turned two yesterday. We had a quiet, little party with vanilla cake that was placed in the middle of the dining room table three hours before the celebration started. Naturally, all the frosting was picked off and the strawberry decoration half eaten by the time we sat down.

My sister was livid, of course, and we all confessed to “sampling” it so she’d pipe down, My older brother’s intentions were more sinister. “I wanted to sabotage her party, Elizabeth,” he said before cackling. She didn’t let him have any piñata candy.

There’s nothing for me to do for the rest of the week except live in Borders and buy useless stuff from Target. I’m counting day the days until I go back to college. The 30th is too far away.

almost there.

Only one more day, one more assignment, and one more class before I’m on my way back to the suburbs of Philly. I can’t wait to get off that Greyhound in North Philadelphia and be accosted and eye raped in the bus terminal.

There’s nothing like the cold stares of crack addicts to welcome me back.