I bought my oldest sister a calendar for Christmas

The amount I have to say about my sisters never seems to decrease, does it?

This time I am talking about my oldest sister. My second oldest sister's gotten a lot of thought from me over the past few years and it's only recently that I've given my other sister the same amount and intensity of thought as my second oldest sister.

This is simply because because us two, there is less material to write about. She's never been as involved, had that much of a presence in my life.

In my younger years, she chose to spend more time with my second oldest sister. Not that much time the family, let alone me. Now that I am her age, I understand why she did that-add in some of the factors affecting her personality and the sort of home environment we (she?) grew up in, and I can draw out a complete picture explaining everything.

So I've never harbored the same type of hatred towards her as I did/do my second oldest. How can you hate someone's who's just never done anything to or with you? There's nothing to dislike.

Finally around to the title of this party-for Christmas I bought my sister a calender. It has twelve pictures of adorable puppies in it and my brother and I thought she would've loved it as she is an animal lover and basically has all responsibility for our family dog.

The other day I found it discarded in the small area where she sleeps when she does come back to visit the family, alongside bunched up wrapping paper and the little candy cane my brother bought her.

Hoping she had just forgotten it, I asked her if she was going to use it-if not, I would use it. She replied 'Oh soz. You can use if you want.'

It really upset me... I don't know. I suppose it was just the idea-I bought her something which I thought she'd like and use, and she just... dumped it there.

I suppose it's my yearning for a closer relationship with her-I've been getting closer to my second oldest sister and I was hoping this would've been something of a minor breakthrough. At least we could've talked about it for five minutes. She could've talked to me about different dog breeds. Stuck it in her rooms. Anything.

I'm a little sad.

Life at home update+school slam poetry

Well as my last post said, my relationship with my parents wasn't going too well and i really just took some time off to get some me-time. I still get a bit of a subconscious reminder to add "biological" when I refer to them, but I don't, simply because explaining why I do that to curious listeners is too time consuming.

It's calmed down a little I suppose. I'm more efficient around the house now. I'm punctual with my arrivals for dinner, waking up on time, exercising, cleaning up after myself.

Not for their sake, but rather for my own; developing habits which make me tardy on a daily basis are habits I'd hate to develop so I believe it best if I tried further consolidating my pre-existing good habits.

I also tried to open up to my second oldest sister because I wanted to get a closer relationship with her and that would require me letting some of defences down and making myself open and vulnerable at her mercy.

I tried talking to her about yet another argument I had with my family was she was out with her friends. I wasn't expecting advice or anything. I just wanted to open up, present the situation from my point of view.

She didn't really listen to me I guess; she heard, but she didn't really listen, and there is a difference between the two. Anyways beforehand she didn't seem too interested in hearing what I had to say.

Then when I actually got to talk to her, reaching out, hoping for comfort, hoping or be listened to and comprehended, not just listened to-(there's a difference between the two, y'know?) it was incredibly disappointing.

Yet when the moment came, and I just told her a little bit about the argument with my parents and I was about to explain how I always felt so misunderstood and disregarded, she simply said "well, that's kinda just your fault, isn't it?"

At that point, I just realised, that no matter how hard I would try, whilst me sister and I could go out and talk like old friends, given our mental development in recent years which has bought our mental ages closer than ever, the overall basis of our relationship was still weak.

The way she treated me growing up, how she'd always put me down to make herself feel better, intimidating me into silence, everything- what she did, most of its been lost to memory. The way she made me feel, anguish, upset, self-doubt- I won't forget that.

So after it happened, I penned a small performance poetry piece about it for my upcoming school slam poetry.

On the day of the actual performance that was yesterday, I was a little nervous because I realised two things.

The first was that I had developed an accent. The accent had arisen out of watching a large amount of American slam poetry; slam poetry is still overall a small underground thing in Australia. So when I spoke to perform, I had developed an incredibly poor American-Australian blend.

The second was, because I had left the poem to the last minute, the passion in my performance and the likelyhood of forgetting my lines had a relationship of direct variation.

Upon arriving I noticed there was a music stand so my second problem was gone.

My stupid accent was strong and to took me a few lines to attempt to turn it around.

I don't know... I think the underlying basis of my sister's poor treatment has always been... there in my brain. Yet I've never really considered it due to the fact I was simply too young to really comprehend or think about it when most of it happened, it just lead to a lot of pent up anger, frustration and indignation in my head.

So when I actually got to perform, I guess you could say, at least for me, it was really a performance fifteen years in the making as I just let out fifteen years of-excuse my unrefined language- shit.

All in all I think I just yelled for three minutes and about a quarter way through the play I felt tears beginning to well up. Toward halfway through the performance they were flowing freely down my cheeks and in my final few lines I had to take a momentary break for a breath.

However what I overall think matters is that it was really the first time I opened up about my sister and I in such detail and it feels really good to have really explored and thought about our relationship in such an interesting way.

Afterwards my friends told me I was incredibly brave to have opened up about it in such a way and apparently my performance was emotionally touching enough to make some people cry. I hope they cried because they felt my pain and not because my performance was bad. Fortunately it seems like it is because of the former.

Slam poetry itself seems interesting and I want to attend a few preformances to have a taste of it; I am considering dabbling in it a little bit.

I once asked my mother if she was proud of me

I asked her this about a year ago. The conversation went like this:

---

Hannah: Mum, are you proud of me?

Mum: You haven't done anything good lately. Back in primary school, you were getting good grades, you were fit, everything was going well. I was proud of you.

Now? You're not doing any of those things anymore Hannah. You're not doing moderately well at everything. Look  how short and fat you are now. You have done nothing special at all. There is nothing to be proud of.

---

And I don't know if I should be more upset that my mother isn't proud of me, or because I find myself agreeing with her from time to time.

My oldest sister just gave me a piece of licorice with a strand of dog fur on it and I'm not shocked

What do you think this says about my sister

Apparently my parents are taking me buying $2 of chocolate very seriously

I had to go down and I had to argue why I wouldn't gain back the weight I lost from $2 of chocolate.

Shut up. You don't even know how much I've reduced my chocolate intake. I'm proud of myself.

Lovely how when I was going through a few-month-long, genuinely upsetting existential crisis last year no one in the family made such a big fuss, even though I repeatedly plead for help. Buy $2 of chocolate, and I get lectured for five minutes and hit with a backscratcher.

Don't give me any of your "we care for your health" shit. If you did, you would let me avoid staple foods like rice and bread in order to avoid carbohydrates on a daily basis. Yet what do I get given as food? Rice and bread. It's not even an opinion I got off the Internet, I was directly told to avoid carbohydrates by two doctors.

I bought chocolate off my brother and told him not to tell my mum and I'm hearing my brother tell my mum the truth right now

This bitch gon feel the consequences

When your sister walks in on you singing Britney Spears with lots of emotion at 11:59

Thanks sister

My sister got me a solar powered sunflower which flaps it's leaves up and down, in time with the stem and flower rocking side to side, all whilst proclaiming "life's a bitch."

Unexpected niceness from one of my sisters

On Saturday afternoon, my sister walked into my room, announcing that she had something for me, and she hoped I didn't have it already. I immediately thought of Assassin's Creed merchandise or games, but was still pleasantly surprised when my sister presented me with this.

"I saw it, thought you might've liked it. I know most of your earrings aren't very delicate and petite-looking, a bit like you (the sarcastic tone was very strong) but, well, I thought you deserved something nice for making into a three unit maths class at tutoring.

After, she insisted I try them on, swap then around- did it look better in this ear? Or this ear? Did I like them?

Yes, I like them and how you made sure I liked them, and that they suited me, but I like the fact that you acknowledged my achievements nicely more, because that's a bit of a rarity in this family.

Thanks.

Whilst showering on Sunday afternoon

I dropped a glass jar whilst scooping some of the product out. I'm guessing my wet hands had a major role in the incident.

The jar, a sturdy hexagonal structure, was intact. The small lid? Shattered into pieces. Fully aware of the situation I was in-dripping wet from head to toe (hair was wet, making it worse), naked and standing in a shower which had minute colourless glass particles everywhere on the floor, I stayed still and calm.

I decided to pick up just the bottle. It had a fair amount if product in it and it appeared undamaged. However, two glass-not even shards- almost strands- that's how thin they were- managed to embed themselves into my hands. And I'm guessing I was unlucky enough to have struck an artery or vein of some sort-one of the punctures had blood coming out of it too quickly and for too long a simple puncture by a thin strand of glass.

Opening the bathroom door, I called to my sister, "Hey, can you get a pair of tweezers from mum and dad's bathroom for me please?"

"What? Why?"

"Dropped a glass thing. I have glass in my hand."

"Go get it yourself. I'm studying."

"There's GLASS in my hand!"

"Run out quickly and get it yourself, I'm studying!"

Shivering, bleeding and single handedly (might I mention with my non-dominant hand as well?), I wrapped a towel around my hair, another towel around my body, and ran.

I managed to get the two strands out with my careful handiwork.

One of the punctures is fine. The deeper one which probably hit an artery/vein is still bandaged as it still hurts.

I don't care about the cuts as much as my feelings of hurt by my sisters lack of care. Your little sister is cold, bleeding and has glass in her hand. Yet you can't interrupt your studying for less than a minute to help her.