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Friday, October 05, 2001

Today was awful. I woke up to my grampa kicking me out of my room cuz he needed to swear at the computer. -or something like that, i dunno, cuz i was half asleep. Anyway, I got up and found that someone had the surround sound on full blast country music. Now I don't mind the radio, and even though i dislike country music, I don't usually make a fuss about it, but four hours of it full blast is a bit much. The surround sound makes is so there is not a single place in the entire house, OR the yard where you cannot hear it. I couldn' go back to bed, cuz grampa was gonna be in there swearing for a while.
I went to the fridge and discovered, horror of horrors! we were out of Diet Coke!!! Every adult in this house 'cept for Dad drinks it, so it goes retty fast. However, we've never not had ANY! I mentioned it to Mom and she handed me $5 and the car keys. So I drove down to SaVon and went to find the cokes. I loitered in the halloween isle, but there didn't have any barbaric weapons. (What's halloween without a plastic battle axe?) I went on down to the pop isle and found I had ebought for three cases, which would last at least a day or two. Unfortunately, it is impossible for a girl to carry three 12 packs of coke on her own. I suppose a guy could do it, but my boobs kept getting in the way. Those stoopid things are much more trouble than they're worth! I wandered back to the front of the store and found a little basket thingy and took it back to the pop. Only two would fit, so I carried the third in my other hand. I got to the checkout station, set my stuuff down, and looked up to see that it had JUST closed, and I had to go to the next one over. I made a few sounds of disgust and dragged my cases over there. The cashier eyed me for a sec, then said, "Um, Why didn't you just get a cart?" I could have punched him! Instead, I relied on my razor-sharp wit. "I hate carts," I replied. I paid as quick as I could an drove home, to find the horrible music was even louder.

Grampa was still in my room, swearing and I assumed he was the one with the music on, because he's the only person who ever uses the cursed thing, and asking Grampa to turn down anything he's listening to is, withought a doubt, the stupidest thing you can do. Even if you just ask him to turn it down a little, for the rest of the day he's abomniably grumpy and swears at the slightest provocation...
"Hey, who moved my neer-beer?"
"You're the only one who drinks it, grampa."
"Well, some @#%@% moved it! Shit!, #$%# ..etc As you can see, it'd be much less painfull to strangle yourself with the power cord then ask him to turn it off.
So, neither my mother, (who was suffering as much as i,) nor I mentioned the deafening noise for at least 4 hours. Eventually, a song came on about divorce, and my parents haven't been doing so good lately. Anyway, the song made me bawl, and i HATE songs written to make people cry. So after composing myself, I bravely went and asked Grampa if I could turn it off. He said, "Ask Grama, she's the one listening to it." I groaned loudly, and he asked, "Don't you like country music?" Istead of nodding and schootching off quick, like i should have, I practically shouted, "No! I don't!"
Grampa got this superior look on his face and sighed, like I was so depraved and it was really too bad i was too stupid to appreciate the wonders of earsplitting twangy guitar music. UGH
So I went to Grama, and said, "Grama Kitch. May I please (note the please, there) MAy I please turn off that music. She looked me straight in the eye and said. "I don't care, go ahead."

After smacking my head on the counter a few times, I informed grama of the how exasperating the situation was, hoping for a bit of sympathy. Istead, what I got from my usually sweet and loving grandmother was this...

*nasty high-pitched voice* WELL, NOW you know how I feel with cartoons on all day, (which they aren't) and those nasty little voices talking like babies and.." she proceded to perform a very nasty imitaition on Rugrats, which happens to have been my little brother's favorite cartoon since he was born. WE only watch it once a week, and not in a room where hse could hear it. In the midst of her tirade of blaspheming every cartoon she's ever heard of, (which is about 3, not including Looney toons, which seem to be acceptable for some reason,) I walked into my mom's room and slammed the door. She may still be talking. >.<
Toktobis 12:19 AM

Thursday, October 04, 2001

i can't find my notebook anywhere. evil thing got up and walked off. grrrrrrrr
Toktobis 11:41 PM

Toktobis 11:41 PM

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