Rant Time 3

Just a Rant

Warning: very long chapter ahead. I needed to vent.
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I'm back from Seattle now (I got back a week ago, oops), and I swear I will post all my albums from each stop because there is no way I can't show you; it was incredible.
But despite the beautiful things I saw and did during my nine days away from home, I can never feel fucking happy the entire time. And it wasn't just my emotions that were causing me to feel unhappy and agitated, because my mom felt the exact same way.
It was nothing personal. It was not a mood swing or a feeling. It was not one of my bipolar bitching hours. It was a physicality that could be felt by all if they were in my mom and I's place. I really need to let this off my chest some more although I've ranted to everyone who would listen already. I'm just so angry that I need to say it over ten times.
The woman we went on the cruise with is my mom's sister-in-law's sister. I'm not sure what we would call that, but, for the sake of time, I will abbreviate her as Z. I thought Z was very humble and down to earth, so I was excited to get to know her better and take a trip across the country and to Canada with her.
*snort* I was a petty little fool!
Nine days. Nine fucking days. That's all it took to see Z's true colors. I already knew this woman's dirty laundry, like how she sold her baby for $5000 in order to avoid her boyfriend's wife finding out about his affair, but I was willing to overlook that shitty past behavior to have a good time.
I just. . .one piece of advice before I continue. If someone you know is a shitty person, past or present, never take a trip with them. And if you do, never stay in the same room as them. Just don't. Please. Take time to yourself as much as possible. You'll need it so you won't go insane and murder them in their sleep.
I should have smothered that bitch. I should have.
So let's start with the petty bullshit before I get into how she got into my personal business and degraded me every chance she got.
•She forced my mom and I to comply to her rules when it came to bedtime and sleeping habits.
So my mom and I are nocturnals. We stay up late into the night and fall asleep when our bodies give out. We had zero idea that Z goes to bed super early. If we'd known, we would have paid extra for her to sleep in another cabin, because fucking hell, what a mess!
First of all, she goes to bed at nine or ten, while my mom and I are usually playing a card game. So there she is sound asleep on her side of the room with the curtain separating us, and I'm whispering to my mom while we play Uno. She wakes up and asks us to keep it down because she "can't sleep."
That bitch was sleeping just fine. Full-on snoring and everything.
My mom is used to watching TV at night. At ten, Z goes to bed and my mom turns the TV down to almost nothing out of respect. This isn't good enough for Miss Perfect. She wants it turned off because "it's bothering her and she can't sleep."
Again, she was sleeping just fine until she cracked her eyes open and saw the TV on. My mom, being beta as hell, turned it off and tried to sleep, but it was too early for her, so she played around on her iPad until she fell asleep. I'm not a TV watcher so it didn't bother me, but come on.
•She is so fucking cheap and tells people how to spend their own money.
I'm talking saving stamps so she doesn't have to buy another pack. I'm talking not tipping amazing waiters a single dime even after they served her hand and foot. I'm talking haggling store owners for ten dollars less. I'm talking like she needs to be on that show Extreme Cheapskates. That kind of cheap.
Everywhere we went, she had to debate on money. Should she spend $5 on this souvenir for her grandson or keep the money? Should she tip the nice waitress $10 or keep the money? Should she make my mom pay for the taxi fare and the tips and the hotel? Apparently she thought she should.
She always told my mom that "she tips too much" and "she shouldn't do that." My mom and I just looked at her with hugest "go fuck yourself" look ever. My mom makes fucking good money and is very generous to people who deserve it. The waiters on the ship were so kind to us and were very understanding of my allergies, so of course my mom is going to tip them well. They made sure I didn't fucking die on the ship.
If my mom tipped $20, Z just had to say that she should take half of it back. My mom said no. I also contribute to the tip sometimes, but Z never does.
It's a long (scary and funny) story, but my mom popped too many painkillers in Skagway and got high off them, so after I dragged her back to the ship, I put her to bed and went out shopping again with Z. My mom wanted a snow globe but didn't get a chance to buy one, so I went into a shop and bought her one that had a wolf figurine inside it. Z just had to comment on the price.
Her exact words were: "Eleven dollars? Are you sure? That's a lot of money."
I just looked at her and said, "Yeah. It's for my mom."
I really just wanted to pull up my bank account balance on my phone and rub it in her face, but I didn't. I'm on fucking vacation, I'll do what I want with my own goddamn money. And I'm willing to spend more on something for my mom.
After that, I bought more stuff for my mom, and although it cost me more than I would've liked, her smile was worth it. Z just couldn't understand that.
I'm sorry her daughters don't give a flying fuck about her.
•She thinks she's Mother of the Year, but she's the worst mother I know in the family.
She gave birth five times. She raised two of them (poorly), sold one to hide her affair, and gave the other two up for adoption. She thinks she's a saint because of this, but she's not. I find it disgusting that she would get pregnant five times and not give a shit about what happened to most of them.
Her oldest daughter she kept hates her because of the way she treated her. Now the daughter has a son she won't take care of and just gave the other one away. The apple really doesn't fall far from the tree.
This is not something to brag about to my mom and I. We wish she would've gotten an abortion. With all of them. Her and her daughter.
•One of her daughters (that she bothered to keep) is pregnant and due in August. Z is over the moon and managed to make every single conversation about her future grandson and/or something about the pregnancy.
First of all, the daughter is actually humble. She's not the type to talk only about herself or her spawn that she should have aborted. Z, however...
I swear, Z just had to remind us literally five times a day that she was having a new grandson. Yes. We get it. Your daughter let some guy drop his tainted load in her and now she's going to ruin her life. Okay. I don't give two fucks.
We actually bought stuff for the baby while we were there. She invited us to the baby shower but I nor my mom will show up. We gave her the gifts we bought in Alaska and that's all she's fucking getting.
And Z showed us the 3D ultrasound of the fetus. It looked like a fucking alien. It disgusted me and I couldn't eat for the rest of the day. My mom and I pretended to give a shit but were were really cringing on the inside. We both agreed that isn't something you show people without asking first.
And she never quiets down about pregnancy stuff. Ever. We were eating a lovely dinner and all of a sudden I heard the words "mucus plug" and "cervix." The glorious chicken that was mid-chew in my mouth halted and proceeded to make room for its dead brothers and sisters that were now traveling from my stomach up into my throat.
Yuck.
I also can't remember how many times I heard "breastfeeding" throughout the trip. Do not talk about leaking, engorged titties with me. You will be offended when I scream "THAT IS FUCKING GROSS!" I only like dry titties, thank you very much.
She also always asked my mom personal questions (mainly over dinner) about her childbirth experience. After Z talked shit about C-sections and how they are "unnecessary", my mom stated that she had to have one because she had to have her gallbladder removed literally right after I was born.
Z shut up. And then she asked, "So did you breastfeed?"
My mom kind of looked at her oddly and said, "I breastfed Sierra once. Never again."
I didn't know this. I thought she never did at all, so I said, "Now I feel weird. Knowing I sucked on my mom's boobs." (I can be nasty, too).
Z just kind of looked away. And proceeded to talk more about her daughter's uterus and boobs.
I don't care that your daughter wants to pull out her titties to feed her child. She doesn't deserve a medal. It's basic, healthy, common nature. Get over it.
•She took many pictures of me after I said no and posted them all over social media without my permission.
Okay. It's common knowledge that "no" means no unless you're a psycho. Z made me pose in several different ways and forced me to smile for literally 50 pictures, half of which she immediately deleted. I can't fake a smile too well anymore without it being obvious that it's fake. All the pictures were ruined by my fake smile and my eyes begging for help.
After the 100th photo she took, I was just like, "Stop. Stop. Stop."
She didn't stop. She took more and posted them on social media without asking. I wasn't smiling in any of them.🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼
She also had to stop every five seconds to take a selfie. She deleted all of them because she's "so critical of herself." She knows she's critical of herself but she takes a thousand pictures of herself. Okay.
•If my mom and I argued, Z would always remind me that I have a great mom and she didn't, therefore we shouldn't argue.
This is where it gets personal. We were in one of the ship's dining rooms (FREE FOOD!) and eating our dinner like normal. Suddenly we got into the conversation of our personal lives and our parent-child relationships. My mom mentioned that she and I do argue quite frequently like a classic mother and daughter would, but sometimes it's more deep and emotional.
This did not sit well with Z. She told us about her shitty mother who didn't love her (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I see) and started crying right there in the restaurant. I felt bad for her. Until she opened up her mouth again.
She said that I should love my mom and not argue with her, because it could be worse. In a way, she was right. But she was also so fucking wrong. Just because my mom and I argue (like mothers and daughters do) does not mean I don't love her. She is the most important person in my life. I love my mom more than anything.
I don't know where she drew the conclusion that I hate my mom because we argue. I'm only human. My mom is only human. We have our disagreements (we had many on this trip) but we resolve it like adults. We argue and fight all the time, but in the end, we make sure that we know we love each other.
I'm sorry she had a mom who didn't love her, but that's not my fault. My mom and I will continue to argue, because we are human. Not perfect.
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Now let's get deep and personal. I'm talking sexuality, what's between my legs, what body parts I prefer to touch, my reproductive system, and everything in between.
•Z questions my sexuality and says I may "grow out of my lesbianism."
Back the fuck up about 1000 feet.
It was a huge mistake to come out as lesbian to this cunt. I'm pretty open about this, so I never thought much of it. Until that one fateful night at dinner. So we were just casually talking about sexuality and I admitted right there I'm in fact gay.
Z pipes up and opens her mouth. She tells me this story of a friend she had who was a lesbian. This friend was with several girls when she was young, but now she is married to a man and has two kids with said man.
If you're like me, you're thinking, "And this pertains to you how?"
Well, apparently she thinks this story happens to every "lesbian," because she said I might grow up to fall in love with a man and have kids because "I never know what the future holds." Um. . .go fuck yourself.
I may not know what my future holds, but I know for damn sure it doesn't include a dick in my pussy. I hate when people think they know me better than I know me. And she knows damn well I would never have kids because I'm against reproduction and think it's a crime against innocent beings.
•Z's daughter (the pregnant one) grew out of the band shirts and the gothic stuff and ended up getting pregnant, so I probably will, too.
Z obviously has no fucking boundaries when it comes to conversations. She also has no sense of respect. She also must not think before she opens her mouth.
Her daughter ditched the band shirts and dark clothes for a more feminine style. She also let a guy knock her up. So I must do the same, right? No. Fucking no. Just no. She explained to me that I could change and turn out to be someone else that I never knew I could be.
I know. I'm open to change. But on my terms. I will only change for myself, and will only change into someone I am comfortable with. I'm not going to stick myself in a dress and wear uncomfortable shoes to seem more "feminine." I'm not going to get pregnant only to feed my selfish ego. I'm not going to "become straight" to please people. I'm proud of who I am.
I hate that she said I need to look more feminine. Femininity is not a physical appearance. It is a state of mind, a feeling. You are what you feel you are. I'm feminine. I may not like dresses or pink or high heels, but I'm feminine. I'm female. I look at myself in the mirror and see, past my insecurities, a feminine young woman. I have crazy, long purple hair. I have naturally bright pink cupid's bow lips. I have this weird girly smile and laugh.
I may not dress like I'm about to go to a wedding or dance on a pole, but I'm a woman. And I don't care if I look like it or not.
•Z thinks I should go back to school to be more social although I've explained to her that society almost made me kill myself.
I've explained it to her many times. I almost killed myself trying to be social. Now she thinks I should go back to school because "how will you handle the real world if you don't talk to people?"
Who said I don't talk to people? I am very social with the coworkers I'm close to (my second family) and my job forces me to talk to people although I don't want to. I'm actually getting better because of this. I can speak to people just fine now that I'm more confident with myself, although it does need a bit more work.
I really didn't appreciate the assumptions she made about my mental state. She doesn't know me or my story well enough to make assumptions or suggestions on how to help myself get better. I ignored her the rest of the plane ride home.
•Z never doesn't understand that, when I say no, it means no.
She has serious boundary issues. We all shared a room the entire time, so of course it was hard having personal space, but a little space away from her would have been nice. I actually lost a bit of my modesty after this trip. I was half-naked in front of her most of the time because I had nowhere else to change, so it had me a bit squicked and I wanted some time to myself to just breathe and clear my mind.
Nope. Every time I told her that I did not want to go to breakfast with her, she asked me at least five more times. I politely declined but was secretly wanting to push her over the ship's balcony.
There's two ways to get around the ship: elevator or stairs. The stairs are actually easier, so, when Z and I would get breakfast at the buffet, I would opt for the stairs when she was going for the elevator. Instead of saying, "I'll see you in the room," she said, "Oh, I'll come with you!"
What could I say? I didn't want to be rude and tell her to rightfully fuck off and let me have 30 seconds to myself, so I just let her. She would always wake me up at the ass crack of dawn asking if I wanted to eat. No. I don't wake up and instantly want to devour a tiny village. I'm normal.
I was trying to be nice no matter what she said or how many times she overstepped her boundaries. But that politeness wore off when we got to Canada. I had an internal meltdown. First of all, despite having already been to Alaska, Z didn't let us pick any excursions we wanted to do. We had to do what she wanted. So we spent most of the time looking a plants and boring stuff.
My mom wanted to go whale watching. Z wanted to see the Butchart Gardens in Canada. I just wanted to jump off a bridge. Guess who got their wish. Not me or my mom, that's for damn sure.
We made it into Victoria, British Columbia, Canada (beautiful city!) on the last day of the cruise. Z picked the Gardens. So we went to the Gardens. My mom and I made it as far as the gift shop before we got bored and took a seat by the cafe. Z was pressuring us to come see the plants and I was actually so irritated that I said, "No. I've seen enough fucking plants this week."
She went off without us and my mom and I took that time to talk shit about her behind her back and enjoy the Canadian air. I also used that time to cool down because I was seriously about to cry in anger and frustration. Then this Canadian lady let me pet her dogs and I felt a little better again.
Until...
•Z is fucking nosy. This is definitely the biggest problem I had with her. If I was on my phone, she just had to look over and ask me what I was doing.
I wasn't able to use the Internet much (no WattPad 😢) because you can't get service in the middle of the ocean and the ship's wifi cost for the entire trip was EXPENSIVE. I owe my mom about $500 for about 8 hours of service on the boat.
So of course, when we stopped in the US and I hard service, I hopped on my phone and startled watching Sense8, especially the lesbian sex scenes. I also went into my Notes app and wrote lesbian smut. I was also writing as much of Purple Streaks as I could (almost done with the first chapter!) in my Word app.
I must have been looking a little too comfortable, because Z kept looking over at my phone and asking what I was doing, who I was talking to, why I was watching.
When she asked what I was writing, I made up some half-ass lie about "a diary of what happens in my life." It wasn't. It was two girls fucking each other. She asked if she could read it. My heart started thumping rapidly.
I just looked at her, hugged my phone to my chest, and said, "No. It's private."
She asked more questions about it, and I kept repeating that it's a journal. She finally fucked the fuck off, and I turned my phone brightness down and made sure to hide my screen from her.
This could have ended badly.
I ended up telling my mom about it, and I told her that I was actually writing about and watching lesbians having sex. She said, "You should have told her, that way she wouldn't wanna look at you again. Make her piss off and tell her to leave you alone."
I love my mom.
•Z just knows how to push people's buttons, whether she realizes it or not.
Between the greed, the annoying morning wake-up calls, the bragging about her grand-fetus, the nosiness, the complaining, the invasion of privacy, and the judgement, I wanted to curl up and die.
The final day, as we were in the bus, driving down the beautiful Canadian road to get back to the ship, I ended up getting stuck next to Z. I was leaned up against the window, watching Sense8 because I actually had service. I was trying to relax my nerves and was slowly winding down, with my earbuds in and listening to the Hallelujah clip of Sense8 for background noise.
It was dark in Canada, at 10:30 pm, and I was literally falling asleep with the movement of the bus. As I'm resting my eyes, I feel an annoying tap of a sharp manicured fingernail poking my shoulder. Crack my eyes open, annoyingly look towards my left, and see Z--with her inconsiderate self--pushing her phone (FULL BRIGHTNESS IN A PITCH BLACK BUS, MY EYES!) into my face. She was showing me a picture of her eldest grandson. I just muttered "mm" and closed my eyes again, hoping she'd piss of until we got back to the ship.
Nope.
Tap tap.
Open my eyes, look to the left, and see her shoving her phone in her face again. She's showing me a video--without audio, thank fuck--of myself at my 16th party. I saw this exact video just days before when she showed it to me the first time. Out of respect, I kept watching although I got tired of looking at my ugly self, and turned my head to the window when it was over.
I took my earbuds out and listened to the tour guide tells us stories of Canada, and I guess Z thought that meant she could talk to me, while the guide was talking. She was telling me random stories about shit I didn't care about while I was trying to listen to the guide who was taking us through the most beautiful country ever. I've always wanted to go to Canada, and she just kept talking while I was trying to learn the history of it.
It's funny, because she shushed people on the tour of Juneau for talking while the guide was talking. She said it was rude, but yet, she did it, too. I know why she did it. She complained when we got off the bus in Canada. She said she "hated the guide" and "he was annoying." My mom and I ignored her.
•She tries to tell her grown daughter how to live her own life. And other people, too.
Her daughter lives with her boyfriend and his aunt. His aunt is overbearing and they want her out of their house by the time the spawn is born, which is in six weeks. But the daughter isn't willing to kick her out yet.
So what does Z do? Suggest that she herself contact the aunt and tell her to get the fuck out of a house that isn't even hers. My mouth almost dropped. This is not her call to make. Her daughter is a grown woman. If she's able to care for a baby, she's able to evict an overbearing family member out of the house she owns.
And Z proceeds to tell her daughter that my mom is going to sell our current house one day in favor of a bigger and nicer one in a better area closer to my job. She drops hints that we should sell the house to her daughter. Nope. My mom is selling it, giving my uncle his share of the money, and we're moving. Whoever ends up in this house is up to the realtor and the bank.
Also, we are selling it as-is. There is a huge hole in the ceiling in our spare room and drywall is all over the floor, so is mold. It will cost her daughter an assload of money to fix it if she buys it. So she can fuck right off.
Z loves giving oh so "helpful" advice but is a complete train wreck herself. Little Miss Perfect needs to pull that stick out of her ass before it has to be surgically removed.
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Maybe I'm overreacting a bit. Maybe it was because I was tired and about to start my period (I started the last day in Seattle). Maybe it was just my hormones.
Or maybe I'm not overreacting and Z was actually fucking annoying and irritating. I asked my mom if she felt the same way, and she said yes. So it isn't just me.
And we made the ungodly mistake of inviting her to Thanksgiving and Christmas. She is most likely going to come. Fuck my soul. Just fuck it.
One last thing before I release you from my captivity. When we landed in Seattle before we came back to hellhole Houston, it was Pride Day! I didn't know, and of course I wanted to go, but Z was pressuring to see the Pop Culture museum and do the Harbor Tour. I got pissy and pretended to "lose" my City Pass. That didn't work after my mom poured my stuff out of my bag and made me find it.
I nor my mom went to the Pop Culture museum, but Z did. We stayed in the lobby of the Hyatt House waiting for our room to be ready for us. I complained to my mom for a bit because I was exhausted after just getting off a ship, then I noticed that Z had left a huge pile of trash from breakfast in the lobby for other people to clean up.
I looked at my mom and said, "She left her mess here. I'm so embarrassed."
My mom said, "Don't be. It wasn't you."
I still felt bad that the janitors had to clean up after a grown woman.
But my day brightened a bit more when a woman with flowers in her hair wearing a bright dress and a "Ms. Gay Washington" sash came over to us. She was. . .beautiful. She allowed us to take her picture, and I hugged her and told her she's beautiful.
She and her girlfriend went to the Pride parade and I wanted to follow, but I had to stay caged the rest of the day. That night, when I went to the lobby, I got my mom and I some snacks and got Z nothing. I told her, when she complained about being hungry, that she could go down there herself and get it.
She did. And she shut the fuck up.
And I went to sleep, staring at the beautiful Space Needle outside from across the street. We got on the plane (first class!) the next afternoon and all was well. I relaxed. And when I got home, I cried because I missed my pets and I just needed to let out some raw emotion after nine days of not being able to.
The trip was something I will never forget, but maybe for some of the wrong reasons. It was incredible and heart wrenching all at once, but it was definitely something everyone needs to see before they die. I felt so free and careless, no job, no family, no responsibility, just me and the mountains.
I will always be thankful for being able to experience this, but it was a bit overwhelming at times. I will be going to Alaska again someday. Without Z. Maybe then I will be able to sleep and think peacefully.
Canada felt like home, and I can't wait to show you the pictures I took there. This was a trip to remember. I just wish it could have been a bit more enjoyable and not so time-limited.
Anyway, I should probably hop off my soapbox now. This is literally the longest, most anger-fueled rant I've ever written throughout all three books in this series. 5,000+ words!
This took three days to put into words and type out but I'm happy I got this off my chest. I feel much better now.
It's July 4th, 2017 today, which makes 2 years since I came clean about my problems on here. It's been the most incredible 2 years ever. I'm happy I now have a place to vent and just let out some anger.
Pretty soon it will be 2 years since I became an atheist.
Then 1 year since I came out about being a lesbian.
Rant Time 4 is coming out this November.
2017 is over halfway gone.
I will be 17 years old early next year.
This is why I get emotional. Why is my life flying right before my eyes? 😔
And I'm sure one of you wonders what I currently look like now (I'm lying to myself), so here's a recent picture:

Alaska is fucking cold.
What a baby face I have. And yes, this was posed. Yuck.
~
Sierra 🌙