Okayyyyy, well, I'm in the mood for another rant. Interesting fact: Most of the time, when I'm writing (typing?) these things, I'm actually in a very good mood. It's an anomaly.

I will start with...THE DAILY REVIEW.

I cleared up all my messages today. I had like 2,300 messages, and even more deviations to check, and now I only have 25 messages. These 25 are just comments/journals/whatever that make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, so I don't delete them. Yea. That's about all I accomplished today.

Now...THE MONTHLY REVIEW.

OKAY. WOW. June has been an interesting month! It all started the day after summer vacation. We were dirt poor, and my stepdad kept babbling on about how he was getting some huge bonus tomorrow, so we'd be fine. I was woken up the next morning at 8:14 (I remember the exact time for some reason) by my eight year old brother banging on my door and yelling 'GRANDMA WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!' It sounded like someone was dying, so I grabbed the phone from him, only to hear the always-nervous voice of my grandmother. "Don't tell anyone, okay? Are the boys in the room? No? Good. Dave is in jail."

Whoa. Let's back up a bit. Dave is my stepdad, and I always have addressed him as Dave, not dad. That doesn't have a point, but okay. Here is the lowdown on Dave's jail situation: He went to jail for a few months about a year back, and was let out early because of some deal that the police people made. He'd be on parole for however long, and if he messed up even ONCE, it'd be straight to jail for three years with no bail for him. Well guess what? He messed up.

Apparently he left the house at night with my mom's car and money...to buy crack! Yep, just a happy nighttime drive. So anyway, after purchasing and partaking in said crack, he decided to...drive home? But yea, he was so high (stoned? I dunno what to use; EDUCATE ME ON DRUG TERMINOLOGY) that he was driving on the wrong side of the road. Almost hit a family of five coming back from some event. Apparently the cop actually had to push our minivan out of the way with his car. That would've been a sight to see.

Anyway, Dave is in jail, and I have not felt a twinge of regret. In fact, I am the happiest I'll ever be. The downside? (Because there always is one) I'll never get my stuff back. WAIT. This calls for another backtrack. Ever since I was like...eleven years old (not that long ago, but whatever), Dave has been pawning off my stuff. Every game system I've ever owned has been pawned, every TV, DVD Player, VCR, or other electronic device except my computer because pawn shops don't take those. All my games and DVD's too. Some of my precious, precious Breyer Horses -- an incident that destroyed me, but that is another rant entirely, and one that I don't like to share for fear of sounding stupid and selfish. As it happens, I have a list of some things he's taken from me, in no particular order:

- PS2 (four times. Meaning, he got it back and then pawned it a few days later. Again. And again.)
- All my PS2 games. Too many to list.
- TV (many, many times.)
- DVD Player and DVD's. (Uncountable times.)
- Breyers (8 of my 13 horses, including my limited edition Halloween horse that he sold for $500.)
- Crimson Nintendo DS Lite + All my games and accessories for it.
- My bike. (WTF!)

Probably more, but I've forgotten them. At any rate, I do not have any of the things listed above. And honestly I hate myself for caring so much; at least I'm not a starving child in Africa, right? Call me selfish, but I have a hard time caring about the problems of other people when I have issues of my own.

END OF BACKTRACK. Where were we? Oh yes. Dave is in jail; now the whole family knows, of course. My mom pretends to be happy, but now she's visiting Dave in jail twice a week, and getting letters from him every day. She says she doesn't want to deal with a divorce right now, and that we shouldn't kick him while he's down. Um. No. He brought this on himself with stupid actions, and I find it disgusting that she still wants to defend him. He stole from everyone in the family (mostly me, but I will spare you from my self-pity), and even though she says she'll divorce him, I know she's going to take him back. I can feel it in my bones. He won't be back for two and a half years -- somehow that 'strict' three year rule got wheedled down, and I'll be almost 18 by then. Maybe I'll move to Canada or something then. If I have money, that is, because God knows he'll be taking from me before he even sets foot in this house again.

Oh. And I forgot to mention. As a parting gift from dear David, we now owe $3600 on our rent (apparently he's been using our bill paying money to buy crack! 8D), we're being evicted from our house, and here's the best part of all -- Aaron's furniture company called, we owe them $2000. Dave bought a plasma screen TV from them and then pawned it two days later. Literally. So now we're paying for a TV we don't even have.

Thank you, Dave!



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