Point of View : 02.18.03 @ 12:04 pm

You should never make a judgment on someone by what you hear from someone, or from the one side you see of them. The problem with this bit of knowledge is that very few people know the entire person. You don't know me, from this side I show online. Hell, people who have "known" me as a friend since I was younger don't know me. They've never seen how bitchy I can get among my family, they've never seen how I am all the time.
We all have many sides. The side I tell you about when I'm pissed, about my family, is not them. It's a part of them, sure. But don't make judgments based on that.

I thought I'd point that out because I'm realizing that my family - all of them, not just my immediate - have this really bad image of me being some self centered teenager because that's all they hear from my parents when my parents are frustrated with me. Yes, I can be self centered. But very few people are ever not self centered.

It's just irritating me that my Aunt S and my Uncle R probably have a really bad image of who I am because my Mum tells Aunt S everything. Aunt S knows about my former cutting, me being a lesbian, and all my selfish incidents in day to day life. Which is sad because I really admire Aunt S and Uncle R. They're really cool people.

One of the things that really pissed me off about my psych was that she automatically thought that most of my problems were attributed to my family, yet she'd only heard about them from my point of view, not anyone else's. You can't make a judgment on someone from someone else's point of view. We all do it, but we really shouldn't. So those of you that hate my father, sister, or other foes of mine just from what you've read, really shouldn't. Hell, I shouldn't hate them. I don't know how my father is when he's not being an ass in front of CNN. I don't know how my sister is at school with friends. I don't know how my Mum is when she's not being a Mum. I don't really know them, just as they don't really know me. They don't know the me that stays up until two on a school night trying to convince someone I barely know that killing themself is not the answer. They don't know the me that laughs and debates with friends, they really don't know me.

My Mum is having a really bad day, which sparked this entry. She's frustrated with her work, she hates typing (which is one of her part time jobs) and she gets really touchy whenever she attempts to type.
My desk is in the same room as the computer, and all my schoolwork is spread out over the coffee table that doubles as my desk (I used to have an actual desk but Jenny got it after the move). I was attempting to do my Algebra homework and she got all pissed because supposedly she can't type when someone's behind her, on the other side of the room, being quiet.
Where else am I supposed to go, I ask. I don't have a table in my room and all the other tables in the house are in use. I'll be quiet, I say. You won't even know I'm here.

Yea, right - and she packs up her work, stomps upstairs and slams the door. Now, not only does the slam the door once but she goes back and slams it three more times.
WTF?

I have to go back to my homework now. I'm getting very frustrated with the anal way my Chemistry teacher has us do our lab notebooks. She takes five points off if we use white out or cross anything out, yet we can't rip out pages and start over again because they're all numbered. She teaches Regular Chemistry like a college level class. The Honors Chemistry teacher is an easier teacher then she is. Tell me that makes sense.

Anyway. Hope everyone's enyjoying the snow.

/A

P.S. My brother Matt is 15 today.
P.P.S. It's really weird when I know someone is reading more then one page of my diary (thank you sitemeter) yet this someone doesn't leave a note or anything. Be nice. Click on comment or contact. There are over six ways to contact me on this diary. Use one. Thanks.

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