Oh, well.

Aug. 8th, 2013 01:47 pm
yggdra_sil: (Default)
Sometimes I’m frighteningly good.
Like a psychic or something.
Or maybe I'm just stupid and should just STFU.

After confronting my uncle about terrorising my grandmother one of my first thoughts was “Boy, I’m gonna pay for this”.

I really wish I’d been wrong.

This Monday something happened in my family and we were all shaken. There was arguing, screaming and desperation. Neither of us slept well that night and I decided to stay home from work (after two hours of sleep that was a pretty good idea, too). Comforting each other. Strength in numbers and all that, right?
Well. Someone, I don’t know who, had the brilliant idea to get my uncle involved.
He preached about “sticking together”, about us “learning a bitter lesson”, how much better it is to work together and all that crap. I didn’t talk to him, I was on the sofa, trying to get a little sleep.

Enter Granny. "[Your uncle] says he won’t enter the house again (funny, he’d already been there this morning) until you apologise to him."
That was nothing new, he’d said that the week before. On the day I tried to tell him to stop tormenting his own mother about her money.

The new part? Her huge, pleading eyes and the whiny voice.
No fucking way, I thought. She wouldn't dare.

She dared.

“So what?”, I asked.
“Well, you know …”
"Huh?"
"..."
“You want me to apologise? You are aware I was defending you, right? I didn’t do anything wrong, but if you tell me to, I will apologise.”
“…”
“Do you want me to apologise?”
“Well, you know …”
“Do you want me to apologise?”
“… I have no choice!”
“Well, then.”
She did have a choice. He had already “entered the house” twice. He just had to put that cherry on top of his sundae of triumph. He told her he wouldn’t enter her house ever again several times before. When he’d argued with my dad (his brother). When she wouldn’t give him power of attorney. And he always came back.

So I “apologised”. I made sure he knew I didn’t do it willingly. I told him that from now on he can do whatever he wants; I won’t defend his mother again. He can rage, he can scream, he can demand money and power of attorney. I don’t care.

No choice, my ass.

This was just the continuation of the old habit of “they (my parents and me) are always there, no matter how I treat them. They may get angry but they’re always at my beck and call.” Now completed with a “she’ll get over it”.

Well, fuck you, lady.

I took a holiday to make sure you’re not “all alone by yourself! Whine!”™ when my parents take their two weeks’ worth of holidays.
We asked my uncle (who isn’t even related to you) to visit with us, too. Because the ray of sunshine that is your firstborn refused to look after you until you gave him power of attorney.
I was willing to sleep on an uncomfortable lumpy old couch so you didn’t have to be “all alone by yourself! Whine!”™ at night during that time.

I/we did that because you’re old and needy. I was willing to overlook how you’d treated the people I loved because I thought holding a grudge would be petty.

Well, fuck you, lady.
My grudge is back. And this time it’s here to stay. Call me petty if you want. I’d rather be petty than your puppet.

And your crocodile tears? Let those two charming, oh-so-successful bitches that are my cousins dry them. When they visit. If they visit. They life a whole kilometre away, after all.
yggdra_sil: (Default)
20 years ago a mob of neo-nazis and other sorry excuses for human beings attacked a building full of people seeking asylum here. Men, women, children being threatened by a raging mass of brainless asswipes.
I was a child back then and the pictures are still with me, this was incredibly scary. Well, it still is.

So, a few days ago there were demonstrations in remebrance. There were speeches and politicians and stuff. And a tree was planted.

I thought some neo-nazis would cut the tree down.
No. The extreme left was way quicker. Now, you might wonder why they would want to cut down a tree planted to honour the victims of nazi violence ...
Obviously it was the wrong kind of tree. It was an oak. And we all know that oaks stand for militarism and nationalism.

Mmmkay. I'll be busy chopping down oaks and shooting german sheperds and eagles. 'cause they're eeeevol.

>:(

Nov. 23rd, 2011 08:42 pm
yggdra_sil: (Default)
Dear colleagues,

I am grateful for any help and advice you can give me (naturally, I'm a little more grateful, ha!, am ridiculously happy when you tell me what I do okay or even well)

But, dear colleagues, it SUCKS BIG TIME to be compared to my fucking perfect-with-a-bow-and-a-cherry-on-top-(with sprinkles) predecessor.

She may be a model of perfect perfection in your eyes - but she's not here anymore. I'm here. And I'm doing my fucking best to be as perfectly perfect as possible (Remember? My first day here was not even three months ago.) Maybe she was flawless from the very first day - but I'm not. So, would you fucking stop comparing me to fucking Saint H.

GODDAMMIT!! I AM NOT "THE NEW H." - I AM MY VERY OWN PERSON!



It fucking hurts.

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