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lady_t_220Sooooooo...
This morning. I finally de-cranked enough to actually feel like typing about it.
It didn't start good. I was hellaciously tired when I woke up despite getting a lot more sleep than I had done previously. I'm just having a cranky, slightly stressy week, you know? I reserve the right to not be in a good mood all the time...
But my granny... for her this is unacceptable.
I got there and the first thing she started off on was exactly how annoying and impossible my grandad is just because he doesn't want to move his chair all the way to the other side of the room. Because he can't see the TV from there, and he LOVES to watch TV.
Now... she wanted to move him because she couldn't get to the plug socket behind this book case that she moved behind his chair all of... oooh... 2 weeks ago. So my morning was spent moving chairs, rugs bookcases etc round and round in FUCKING CIRCLES *twitch twitch* all the while getting complained at about everything under the sun. Granny's having one of her impossible, IRRITATING goddamned moods right now so... As you can imagine I wasn't exactly thrilled to be doing this. I was tired. I wanted to go home. I wanted her to shut the fuck up. And because of all of that she then started off one one at me about how her LAST home help person never complained when she wanted to move furniture.
I'm like mentally bitching "Yeah, but your last home help person never cleaned either. And only turned up twice a week if you were lucky. And even then only arrived in time for meals and a half-hour chat..."
Suddenly "Shantelle" (which was aparrently her name) was the best person you ever had work for you. I'm just like... shut up NOW before I kill you.
Furniture moved to her satisfaction (well, for the next 24 hours anyway, I anticipate more shuffling as soon as some other petty annoyance finds her) I then got the Joy of all Joys.
I had a full hour of sitting there while one of granny's visiting friends insulted me, almost continaully, apparently all for my own good.
Yes, for according to "Kath" I'm chronically and irreperably wasting my life, my talent and every opportunity that I might ever get to have because I'm *gasp* Not studying art at university. Worst of all I'm not studying art at university AND not planning on becoming a teacher!
*shocked noises echo around Livejournal*
I'm just mentally going... weeeeeeell... then fuckya. I went to art college... I was there for a term before I dropped out. One of the most miserable fucking terms of my LIFE. And teaching...? I would rather scoop my brain out with a fork. Thank you and good night.
Apparently she used to be an art teacher, you see, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth or something, and had a track record for getting students into the Royal Academy. (Wherein I mentally noted that she'd evidently been nowhere near the Royal Academy lately as it's been taken over by basket-weaving Tracey Emin ass-cakes) So, of course, I was given the "You have some talent, but really need tuition" speech, to which I'm still mentally muttering "And you need pliers. Preferably to remove the large pole from your rectum..."
My granny, (God DAMN her) had on-hand a slightly badly reproduced print-out of Dekie's man which "Kath" then proceeded to point out had aaaaaaall kinds of flaws, which would have been obviously pointed out by a tutor for me to look at and re-evaluate.
maybe I'm overreacting, but the way she said it was like she was doing it just to say "But you don't have a tutor so Neyyeeeah*
Now, while I very, VERY much appreciate that nothing I ever produce will be PERFECT, there comes a point where a little twitchy bit inside of me begins to deeply resent criticism.
Valid crticism I can take. Valid criticism I welcome because it CAN be so intensely useful. Looking at something and thinking it's not quite right can be solved if someone else sees it and says "Well... maybe that bit's not quite at the right angle, see...? if it were a bit more up there it'd be more in keeping..." But this...
This wasn't even anything specific, she's just sitting there telling me she can see things that aren't right but she doesn't actually say what any of them ARE. It's like she's criticising it just because she can and THAT... Jesus fuck me Christ. That really annoys me.
This in turn put my sour mood into the reals of growling, snarling, resentful hellion bitch devil-woman which once more started my granny off on about how "Shantelle" would be happy to come back if I wanted to quit...
*takes a deep breath and tries not to kill people*
So it was all fun and games. I'm wasting my life in a haze of crazy slacking low-wage jobs and totally apathetic, unrefined hobby-doodling. Go ME! Yeeah!
Bitch.
I mean, it's not as if I was placing great stock on this woman's opinion or anything, I'd never even met her before in fact, but I can't be the only one who finds that just a liiiittle bit on the far side of acceptable. I don't think I'm taking it too personally, am I?
But then I'm still having a cranky day. A day where I hate, HATE my grandmother. Would like to slaughter all her friends and then curl up in a ball and ignore the lot of them while a sympathetic Wolvermuse snoogles under my duvet with me...
Is that so much to ask...?
This morning. I finally de-cranked enough to actually feel like typing about it.
It didn't start good. I was hellaciously tired when I woke up despite getting a lot more sleep than I had done previously. I'm just having a cranky, slightly stressy week, you know? I reserve the right to not be in a good mood all the time...
But my granny... for her this is unacceptable.
I got there and the first thing she started off on was exactly how annoying and impossible my grandad is just because he doesn't want to move his chair all the way to the other side of the room. Because he can't see the TV from there, and he LOVES to watch TV.
Now... she wanted to move him because she couldn't get to the plug socket behind this book case that she moved behind his chair all of... oooh... 2 weeks ago. So my morning was spent moving chairs, rugs bookcases etc round and round in FUCKING CIRCLES *twitch twitch* all the while getting complained at about everything under the sun. Granny's having one of her impossible, IRRITATING goddamned moods right now so... As you can imagine I wasn't exactly thrilled to be doing this. I was tired. I wanted to go home. I wanted her to shut the fuck up. And because of all of that she then started off one one at me about how her LAST home help person never complained when she wanted to move furniture.
I'm like mentally bitching "Yeah, but your last home help person never cleaned either. And only turned up twice a week if you were lucky. And even then only arrived in time for meals and a half-hour chat..."
Suddenly "Shantelle" (which was aparrently her name) was the best person you ever had work for you. I'm just like... shut up NOW before I kill you.
Furniture moved to her satisfaction (well, for the next 24 hours anyway, I anticipate more shuffling as soon as some other petty annoyance finds her) I then got the Joy of all Joys.
I had a full hour of sitting there while one of granny's visiting friends insulted me, almost continaully, apparently all for my own good.
Yes, for according to "Kath" I'm chronically and irreperably wasting my life, my talent and every opportunity that I might ever get to have because I'm *gasp* Not studying art at university. Worst of all I'm not studying art at university AND not planning on becoming a teacher!
*shocked noises echo around Livejournal*
I'm just mentally going... weeeeeeell... then fuckya. I went to art college... I was there for a term before I dropped out. One of the most miserable fucking terms of my LIFE. And teaching...? I would rather scoop my brain out with a fork. Thank you and good night.
Apparently she used to be an art teacher, you see, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth or something, and had a track record for getting students into the Royal Academy. (Wherein I mentally noted that she'd evidently been nowhere near the Royal Academy lately as it's been taken over by basket-weaving Tracey Emin ass-cakes) So, of course, I was given the "You have some talent, but really need tuition" speech, to which I'm still mentally muttering "And you need pliers. Preferably to remove the large pole from your rectum..."
My granny, (God DAMN her) had on-hand a slightly badly reproduced print-out of Dekie's man which "Kath" then proceeded to point out had aaaaaaall kinds of flaws, which would have been obviously pointed out by a tutor for me to look at and re-evaluate.
maybe I'm overreacting, but the way she said it was like she was doing it just to say "But you don't have a tutor so Neyyeeeah*
Now, while I very, VERY much appreciate that nothing I ever produce will be PERFECT, there comes a point where a little twitchy bit inside of me begins to deeply resent criticism.
Valid crticism I can take. Valid criticism I welcome because it CAN be so intensely useful. Looking at something and thinking it's not quite right can be solved if someone else sees it and says "Well... maybe that bit's not quite at the right angle, see...? if it were a bit more up there it'd be more in keeping..." But this...
This wasn't even anything specific, she's just sitting there telling me she can see things that aren't right but she doesn't actually say what any of them ARE. It's like she's criticising it just because she can and THAT... Jesus fuck me Christ. That really annoys me.
This in turn put my sour mood into the reals of growling, snarling, resentful hellion bitch devil-woman which once more started my granny off on about how "Shantelle" would be happy to come back if I wanted to quit...
*takes a deep breath and tries not to kill people*
So it was all fun and games. I'm wasting my life in a haze of crazy slacking low-wage jobs and totally apathetic, unrefined hobby-doodling. Go ME! Yeeah!
Bitch.
I mean, it's not as if I was placing great stock on this woman's opinion or anything, I'd never even met her before in fact, but I can't be the only one who finds that just a liiiittle bit on the far side of acceptable. I don't think I'm taking it too personally, am I?
But then I'm still having a cranky day. A day where I hate, HATE my grandmother. Would like to slaughter all her friends and then curl up in a ball and ignore the lot of them while a sympathetic Wolvermuse snoogles under my duvet with me...
Is that so much to ask...?
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-11 03:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-11 03:41 pm (UTC)As long as YOU like him that's all that's important.
*hugs super tight*
I'm just having a crank-o-rama type day, but you know how that goes. ;)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-12 07:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-11 05:17 pm (UTC)Sir Lancelot
What is your quest?
To find the Holy Grail
What is your favorite color?
Blue
Alright then. *moves aside*
no subject
Date: 2003-12-12 12:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-12 04:22 pm (UTC)What a day!!
You poor thing. . .
Don't let ANY of that bother you!! You have the whole rest of your life to do whatever you want! Jeez! Like you have to decide today?
Whatever. . .
And I have to say. . .I loved your conversation in your head! Made me laugh out loud!
Fuck Them!!
Snow
no subject
Date: 2003-12-12 04:31 pm (UTC)See, this is what I say, but aparrently I'm slap bang onto a slippery slope of never doing anything.
I'm like... really?? COOL! If never doing anything means I get to spend all day hanging out online and writing smut when the mood takes me then I'm actually pretty happy with that...
;p
I was saying to my mum last night, when Kath asked me what I was doing with myself I should have replied that I write explicit pornography as a sideline, but damnit these retorts never occur to you at the TIME...
;p~