Reticence is such a waste. I think I'll start being a complete honest asshole. It's so much better...

hUmpf. Have taken Blog link off facebook profile. Eh.

Some people are oversensitive. Honestly, I think...well, I'm not terribly upset about it. If I didn't have someplace to vent, I'd go nuts. Everyone does it in a different way. I like my blog. I like writing angry rants on it. Really, that's most of the reason why it exists. Probably the primary reason why it exists. The sheer amount of emotional turmoil it records is what makes it so entertaining. Or pathetic at times (which is also funny).

I may move rooms next quarter. Am not terribly broken up about that either. I'd rather leave before my roomie starts to resent me. Currently, it's not that I don't like her, it's just that I'm frustrated. It's almost impossible to talk to her without her getting upset (at least it seems like it to me, whatever her interpretation is) and bullying me into silence. Well, maybe that's just my self-persecution complex talking, but I feel like I have to practically yell to be heard by her. Will she be offended by me writing this? Yes. Will she cry? Yes.

I think the problem is that there's never any opportunity to talk about what our ground rules are---the fact that I resent her EVERY morning for waking me up when she bangs around preparing for work. What does it say about me that I feel like I have to get up earlier than her to avoid becoming aggravated? Probably that I like to TRY to get along before it becomes entirely impossible. Or uncomfortable.

Perhaps I should have said something earlier, but I feel like I'm unable to say anything to her---the whole fiasco last quarter with the keys and locking the room shows that. She just assumes that I'll kowtow to her opinion, which, while perfectly valid in her own right, is not synonymous with MY opinion, which is entirely different. I'd rather be safe than sorry, and while I trust people, I'm not willing to depend upon the variable goodwill of my fellow man/woman. Everyone has different morals, and not all of them are up to such a standard.

Other things annoy me, but I can compromise, I know how to let the small stuff slide. Sleep, however, is not small stuff, since my health seems to rely upon it greatly.

I write rants about people so that I don't explode uneccessarily at them in an emotional manner. You WANT me to explode? Yeah, I didn't think so. It's not particularly pretty when I do. But I'm SO tempted to...SO tempted. (Which is why I'm hanging on to the last threads of my control so desperately....because I just KNOW I'm at about boiling point.)

So my roomie's upstairs, crying. Hm. Well, maybe she'll learn to listen, as much as she likes to steamroller. And maybe I'll learn to actually say something instead of remaining tactful (no, that's not the right word but I can't think of another one....reticent?) and both of us suffering gamely along under a false impression. The impression, unfortunately, that everything is okay when it's really NOT.

I feel bad that she's crying, but damn, she cries a lot. And that sorta annoys me too.

Eh, but moving. I don't mind, I'll just shift all my nice, organized boxes (no shitloads of shoes for me, just hats and other flotsom and jetsom) over to wherever. Ohh, and I think I'll try NOT decorating my walls for a quarter, except for my paddles, of course. The room makes me feel a WEE bit clostrophobic, with all the walls covered. Or I'll just start taking my stuff down this quarter (though I'm afraid to, because I think she'd probably put more junk up).

Honestly, I just want to tell her to get rid of all the crap that she keeps---just like my sister used to tell me; all the stupid knicknacks that she never looks at, let alone needs, and the crap that's covering much of the two shelves in the room...it's not enough that we both got equal shares, but then when I get home from xmas break, she's got the shelf covered in MORE sentimental crap....don't get me wrong, pictures of family and all that are GREAT. Lovely. It's just that, if we can't drink in the house, why the need for an extensive collection of birthday cards, shot glasses, empty picture frames, and lots of little sculptures. I can see why it annoys Jules---just pick a COUPLE of knicknacks that are really significant to you, not the whole fucking LOT of them. ARRRG.

I think I maybe have only a couple of pictures of family, and very few knicknacks. I've learned not to bring them to school, since I have to take them home at the end of the year (which is a major pain). I like them, but I like them just as much when they can be fully displayed at home. Now I see why Jules always got so frustrated with me when I was younger and a bit of a packrat. I strive to be less so...except when it comes to books, then, yeah, I'm a total packrat. I can't seem to get rid of them, once I've read them. I LIKE them. Maybe she's the same way with all the crap?

I wonder why I'm so afraid of having an honest conflict with her to her face?

Maybe it's a thing---I don't like the having to yell, because when Dad used to get really angry and yell at home. Maybe I need some anger management.

But really, isn't this what this blog is for?