It’s Tortilla Time|

…as to why my weekend was so incredibly shitty.

My friend possesses serious psychological issues due to the fact that her biological mother abused drugs whilst pregnant with her. These issues have landed my friend in several facilities for troubled teens, none of which have made an ounce of improvement in her behaviour. It is important to note that Tammy has been my friend since the age of three; I consider her one of my best friends. Although she can sometimes be difficult to understand and be around, I try not to let her issues get in the way of our friendship.

In addition to said issues, Tammy is also bipolar. Her adoptive mother is bipolar. Thus, their arguments can become heated and even violent within a matter of mere seconds. The results are inflated further when Tammy is not taking her medication.

At the resort this weekend I was caught in between a complete and utter blowout. The room was trashed; glasses were thrown and shattered, hair was pulled, blood was present. There was slapping, pushing, fierce screaming and enough swearing to make even the most profane sailors blush. Management had to come to the room on account of several noise complaints.

And I was caught in the middle.

‘Tori, didn’t Tammy say this?‘ ‘Tori, did I ever say that?‘ ‘Tori, come with me.‘ ‘Tori, go calm Tammy down.’

It was horrid. And to make matters worse, I had Tammy’s nine year old sister weeping into my arm over the entire ordeal. She told me that this is a daily occurrence.

Tammy snapped her mother’s glasses in half. Her mother demolished Tammy’s earphones. Shards of glass lined the floor. I felt as though I was a guest on Jerry Springer; Tammy and her mother were both crying hysterically and screaming at each other at a noise calibre beyond what I had previously thought was humanly possible.

After what seemed like an eternity spent duelling, I was at last given a ride home. The universe possesses a great fondness of causing me misery, so of course there was a traffic jam that left us sitting still for close to two hours.

Two solid hours of pure tension lingering in the car. The tension could have been cut with a pair of scissors, seriously.

The whole experience was slightly traumatizing to me. I find it difficult to sleep. The words spewed were so hateful and malicious. I couldn’t fathom saying some of those things to another human being, let alone my own mother. I couldn’t find it in my soul to say them even to she-who-shall-not-be-named. It was that bad.

As soon as I was lucky enough to enter my home, I hugged my mum and wished to not let go. I am very fortunate that that hostile environment was so foreign to me. I have a new found appreciation and adoration for my family.

For my dear friend Yoon.

I had a most horrid weekend.

It was dreadful.

I feel like I fuck everybody up.

I am forced to miss my family’s Easter dinner and spend an extra day at the resort. Apparently my friend’s mother wasn’t aware that I was planning on leaving Sunday (even though I told my friend like a week ago.) She was quite displeased when she found out today, as she was under the impression I was leaving Monday.

So now I’m leaving Monday.

My friend’s mum is extremely angry with me, and my mum is extremely angry with me for making my friend’s mum extremely angry with me.

It’s going to be one awkward car trip up.

Tomorrow I depart for a resort with my friend and her family for a couple of days. I am looking forward to this particular event, and even more pleasing to me is the fact that I will be attending my family’s Easter dinner on Sunday night. I was absolutely distraught when I thought that going to the resort would interfere with my attending Easter dinner.

I love family functions like a fat kid loves cake.

I still haven’t dared to open my report card. It sits in my backpack, untouched. Quite like me, untouched from the atrocity that it wishes to unleash on my life.

Thankfully today brought the end of the week. And it brought my new camera.

Her name is Calanthe, and she is a Canon EOS 30D. She could otherwise be described as a four pound growth on my face. All evening I have been taking pictures of inadequate objects, and just about anything else that could possibly be photographed.

I luffs her.

I am physically incapable of sleep.

Stress is preventing me from doing so, and no amount of the ‘bitch’ game can repress my anxiety tonight. I am completely and overwhelmingly stressed out. I am on the breaking point.

I laid in bed, tears streaming from my face, attempting to fend off the stressful thoughts that kept penetrating my mind. I am predominately stressed over the fact that I am receiving my report card tomorrow and I know that my marks will be shameful. Completely and utterly shameful.

I am stressing because I failed my chemistry test miserably. I grow more frustrated each coming day with this wretched course. It seems that no amount of studying helps improve my mark. I kid you not, I spent more than three solid hours studying chemistry last night. And you know what? I completely bombed the test today.

I am stressing because I am going to Greece in two weeks. I know that many would kill for the opportunity to travel overseas, but I am completely dreading it. My music teacher despises my very soul and I am not at all looking forward to spending eight days under his authority in a foreign land.

I am stressing because my father is a fucking asshole and started a brand new replacement family. Why did he leave when he had it so easy here? Why is it that he tries to erase the remnants of his past, namely Ben and I? Why were we not aware of his engagement until three months after his wedding? Why has he never made an effort to see me? Why did I allow myself to get so hurt?

I am stressing because I have spent minimal time with my dogs since I’ve been back from Mexico.

I am stressing because I am gaining weight.

I am stressing because I have a three hour band practice tomorrow evening.

I am stressing because I feel so young and stupid sometimes.

I am stressing because I know that I will be completely exhausted tomorrow morning due to lack of sleep. And there is nothing that I can do to prevent it.

I can feel myself accumulating, and it’s most vile, sickening feeling I can fathom.

I hate cheese. And you know what? At my father’s house this weekend, I ate cheese. Lots of cheese. What on earth would possess me to eat my weight in cheese when I find the stuff putrid?

There is so much shit for me to do, and instead of actually getting off my ass and doing it, I will document it and complain about the sheer amount of work that is left undone. Because that makes so much sense.

I have mounds of chemistry questions that I am actually going to do. I like to think of it as turning over a new leaf. Perhaps. I have a chemistry test and a biology test tomorrow, and an (un-started) English essay due.

My biology test is going to be challenging, but only because my teacher is such a pansy. All year our tests have been a total joke and now she’s all, oh shit, these kids are fucked for the exam.

I have, however, in the midst of tension discovered the best way to alleviate stress, so my anxiety-ridden days have not been fruitless. It’s a simple concept; approach someone and insist that you heard them call you a bitch. Make it dramatic, make it convincing. It’s hilarious to watch the expressions and the vehement denial that ensue. Or perhaps I’m just far too amused by simple things like watching people deny calling me a bitch. It’s entirely possible.

A new episode of Gene Simmons: Family Jewels is on tonight.