So it's like this...

Michael assumed that I stole some of his weed. I did not. He refused to believe me for a while, and probably still doesn't, and now he wants to stop being my supplier. He's been lying to my face telling me that he doesn't have any at all. The other day I went over and found roaches sitting in his ashtray. Did I say anything to him? No. For the past few days, he's been having his smoking buddies and his clients over. I know that he's just holding out on me, and since there's no way in hell Don wants anything to do with us anymore, it's basically impossible for me to get high. And every time I mention to John that I'd like some alcohol, he blatantly refuses and starts a giant fight about how "he's so horrible that I have to drink just to get over him" which isn't the case. My mind's just kinda fucked up right now having to be sober, and I don't care that everyone around me thinks that this is doing me some good, because it isn't. I can't wait until John finally decides to let me get my drivers' license, because then I can get a job, hence money, meaning that I can buy my own shit.
I've already told R that I'm moving out as soon as I have the money to do so. Perhaps I should call her? Maybe.
I got to thinking last night about everything in this house that is actually MINE. Once I leave, John won't have shit. I would feel sorry for him for that fact, but after all the shit he's put me through over the past THREE YEARS, I think I've done enough for him.

Oh, and lately he expects me to be able to read his mind. The other night he was all bitchy because I didn't know right off the bat that he wanted to have sex. What the hell?

Oh, and the reason that Don doesn't want anything to do with us? Because we don't have as much money as he does because we don't live with our mommies and have no bills to pay. We have expenses. I fucking bought him a $200 camera and THIS is how he decides to repay us? Now that I know just how fucked up people are, I'm through giving out presents to people that are my friends.
And dad's birthday is this month, meaning that I'm going to force myself to smoke his cigar on his birthday. I'm dreading that day SO MUCH. I expect to get calls from Martine and Zach, and probably R as well. Jerome might call. To be perfectly honest, I just really don't want to hear from my family. It's going to be bad enough having John expect me to be happy as fuck. At least the kids shouldn't be here though. That'll make things better. I hate talking about dad in front of them, because they don't seem to understand the concept of death, much less the death of your family rock, the only person who ever seemed to be there for you when you needed it.

I just wish I had friends right now. I'd be putting on makeup to go out. o.o

So the question is, how is it that people make friends? I have no idea, and that's why I'm so lost. So please, tell me. Comment about it. I need to know.

I felt so pretty today, and we didn't even go anywhere important.

And then the kids started making profane remarks around elderly women in the store. Score one for Johnnie. So I've realized that no matter where I go with them, they will embarass me to no end. They will annoy me to the ends of the earth.
Oh, and Louis decided that since he didn't get a toy, he'd just throw a fit. He ended up stealing some gum from Hudsons, and John just brushed it off. WTF? Last night the little fucker was trying to steal from Wal-Mart... right in front of the cameras. How does John deal with this? He tells Louis that if he had actually stolen it, he'd have been in trouble. What? So he's not in trouble for TRYING to steal it? WTF is wrong with you people? And why in fuck's name am I associating with you?
AND...
I spent Wednesday and Thursday cleaning (and I mean REALLY cleaning) the house. So what happens Friday? John decides that that's the day he wants to empty the truck. Okay, fine. But instead of putting things where they belong in the house, he just throws it all over the place, because god knows I didn't work quite hard enough to make him happy by cleaning the fucking house. And I'm still waiting for Sunday night when he decides to bitch about how the house isn't clean. And I'll take it. I'll fucking take it. It's just another reason for me to leave when I get ready to.
I've finally come to the conclusion that his kids? They're just like him. They don't know what the fuck a trash can is either. It's so annoying playing mommy to three children, one of which is almost 40 years old. And it's not like his kids are toddlers. No, these kids are 11 and 13. They can miraculously pick up after themselves at their mom's house, but that skill gets thrown out the window on the way to this house. And they know how hard I work. They do. Do I get a thanks for cleaning their clothes? No. Do I get one for making them food? No. Do I get a fucking thank you for cleaning up their rooms? Hell no. Because that might make them look weak to me, and they've been taught otherwise. So, no, I'm not going to be told thank you. Because then they might have to use the rest of their manners. God knows that'd be horrible. And let's face it, they're teens and preteens. So yeah, John. Why not let them steal, just so long as they don't get caught. And let's let them take people for granted, because in the real world that'll work just fine.
I try so hard to be a fucking stepmom to these little brats, but I can't do it for much longer. I keep saying that. But when you really think about it, I can't fucking stand kids.
When I was 10, I was basically Zach's mother, because our real mother was too busy playing on the computer and hanging out in chat rooms. From then until we moved to Oklahoma (when I was around 13 or 14) I was a mother. And I have to say that I did SUCH a great job with that little boy. It was Martine that fucked it up. Because the fact is, he wasn't nearly the little snot he is now until she got a hold of him. You don't bribe kids. You don't give in to their every whim. You let them know who the parent is and you keep it that way.
When I was 19, I met John's kids. The first few times they came over, they were perfect angels. Now that they know how to manipulate people (thanks, John), they basically do whatever the fuck they want. They know that they can and will get away with more over here than at their mom's house. Because John's a big softie for them. He'll do anything just so long as they still love him and want to be around him 24/7. He's not meant to be a parent. Let's just put it that way.

I could REALLY use a joint right now. You don't understand it. I need to go into the bathroom, smoke a joint, and chill for a little while. Maybe take a bath. I need to be alone where nobody's going to bother me. Do I have weed? Of course not, because Michael decided that he thinks I'm a thief like his nephews. I didn't steal his shit. I cared about him. I still do. But now he's constantly an asshole to me. I just thought that we could have been friends. And now I know that we never could have. Because somehow, somewhere, something's going to get fucked up, and I will always be alone.

Fuck you, world.