First off, you should listen to the song Dancing by Elisa. It's absolutely f**king beautiful and it makes me want to cry and smile and giggle and sob all at the same time.

So, the reason this entry is entitled "Really? REALLY?!" is because it's just un-freakin'-believable sometimes, with the shit life tends to throw at me. It's not bad, but I'm so frustrated! You guys know me, I'm a worrier, which means I want to fix everything and everyone.

Two of my aunts are losin' their freakin' marbles. One's got a benzo/opiate addiction going, and from what I hear the other is just doing the benzos. Thing is that they have families and responsibilities. If one person crumbles, somebody has to pick up the slack.

My aunt's hubby was the legally named guardian in case of the death of the parent of this kid, Cheyenne. She's just a little girl, like eight maybe if that, I don't remember. Basically, my aunt is totally incapable of caring for anyone. The kid spent the night with my little sisters and when my aunt came by to grab her she just started freakin' out and crying and begging my mom to let her stay. Evidently my aunt's been being a stupid bitch and making the kid stay in her room all the time, which is a hell of a lot hotter than the rest of the trailer.

Needless to say, me and that aunt will be having a talk soon. It's okay if you wanna f**K up your own life, but you don't take a kid with you. I had enough of that shit when I was little and I don't wanna see it happening again. Basically my mom's talking about adopting the kid. My aunt's hubby works offshore, so there's nobody competent to take care of the kid while he's gone.

As usual, my mom gets stuck cleaning up the mess someone else made. I don't begrudge the kid a place to stay where people actually will love her and take care of her (which is what my mom ROCKS at), but I hate that people keep doing this to my mom. She always ends up taking care of all the messes, fixing everything that everyone else just walks away from. It's not fair, and she deserves better.

Next item of business. I got drunk as f**K in the fine arts building the other night with Allan while playing the piano. We drank a SHITLOAD of rum, and yeah... well, let me explain a bit. Allan hangs around my bestest friend Marti a lot. Marti's crushing on Allan. Allan was supposed to be all southern baptisty and like chicks.

The thing about all that which doesn't add up is that I made out with him that night. He was REALLY good for someone still holding onto their V-card, too.

I had the awkward situation of my best friend liking the guy I made out with, and the guy I made out with trying desperately to keep his orientation a secret. He's got the baptist boy syndrome. He haaaaates that part of himself, refuses to just be who he is and say f**K everybody else. He's attempted suicide three times, the latest attempt a couple years ago. He's still dealing with the consequences of ramming his car into the side of a building without his seatbelt on. He shattered his kneecaps and broke his left femur in I think four places. He's still got hardware holding the bone until it heals, and is taking antibiotics constantly to ward off the staph infection that is impossible to totally get rid of while the metal is still on his bone.

Marti knows now, and I felt terrible for the day that I kept it a secret from her. She would've told me immediately, and I still feel bad for not telling her. I hate that it turned out this way. Marti can't have him because he's gay, and I can't have him because he can't even say the word gay without flinching terribly.

There's a kid that lives across the driveway from my mom. He's TEENSY tiny, like thirty pounds, kid's a runt. Anyways, he's a badass little kid but in a cute harmless way. He checks people's mail because he's a nosey lil punk, and just generally runs all over the hill. Well, my mom heard my puppy freaking the f**K out barking at something, so she went and looked outside.

Lo and behold, there lies runt-kid on the ground with all seven of the dogs that live with the various people on that hill crowded around him, and he's screaming bloody murder. The dogs didn't try to hurt him, they wanted to play with him. He's just so tiny that they knocked him down and scratched him up without meaning to. Well, his parents are nowhere to be seen. Of course when she saw him she ran out and scooped him up and did the whole mom thing she's so good at, and then started toward his trailer to look for his mother.

They were having a birthday party and were evidently pretty sloshed and nobody seemed to know exactly where the mom was, so my mom just kept wandering and asking until she finally got somebody to take her to the kid's mom, who then just took the kid without a thanks or anything. Stupid bitch.

It's okay if you wanna get drunk, but you have to keep an eye on your kid. I mean goddamn, really? If you know you're gonna get that f**ked up, why not at least call someone that will watch him? Why not schedule a sleepover, or a playdate so you can do your party thing while he's having fun and is safely watched at the same time? It's not cool to neglect your kids and be a shitty parent because you wanna get drunk, or take xanax, or take lortabs, or are just too much of a little bitch to deal with life. KIDS don't ask to be born, and they deserve every possible bit of support that you can give them.

Okay, so yeah... all of these sad, ugly, f**ked up things have been happening. None of it has happened to me, but it makes me so frustrated. I want to clap my hands and all of it be fixed like some Mary Poppins shit. Blech. It makes me angry that people do that to kids, and it really pisses me off that my mother has to be the responsible person who takes care of everyone who's too lazy or f**ked up to do it themselves.

Rant over, which was all this really was. Like I said, I really wish I could just fix everything and it gets me irritated when I can't do anything to help anyone.

Hugs to you all, have an awesome day. Lub jooz.