Current mood:	frustrated
Current music:	Weezer-Pork and Beans

I love how I'm suddenly the bad guy in 90% of conversations with my family.
Okay, here's the backstory: A couple months ago we rescued a dog from being put to sleep by his dumbass old lady of an owner. This dog was kept in a cage for 22 out of 24 hours of a day, and lived in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, with no other real contact with other dogs or people. The dog was obviously neglected, with sore, splayed feet, an ear infection, and so boney that his spine was visible. We went to see the dog and decided at the very least, his main temperament was good enough that maybe if we take him home and let him get used to better surroundings, he'll settle down.

Not the case. The dog has bitten my sister on two occasions and my mother on one. All three times he's drawn blood. My mother is fed up as our tries to make him more socialize have failed, so she's going to be taking him to a no-kill shelter about 20 minutes from here.

Now, due to this entire business my mother has decided that she wants to have another dog to replace the one that we're giving to the shelter. This is where my LOVELY conversation with my father this morning comes in.

He asks my opinion on a name he wants to give the new dog. I don't really like it, and as soon as I say so I get grumbling from not only him, but my sisters whom he wasn't fucking talking to (I believe the words were "She ALWAYS does this!" or "I knew she was going to say that!" or something equal to make me sound like I'm a huge bitch just being subversive because I can or something). Then, my father, in so many words, basically makes it rather clear that since I'm going to be finishing school and moving out soon that it doesn't matter whether I like it or not. Obviously, my first reaction is to ask why the hell he bothered to ask me then if he was so set on this name. Apparently, this means I'm obviously freaking out/causing drama. I was unaware that this and/or disagreeing with them = drama, but apparently it does. Then my father goes on to say that it was because my mother had moved on to other names and both he and my sisters were looking to push for this particular name. So I point out that he basically just wanted someone to help "gang up" on mom on this name. Maybe "gang up" wasn't the right term to use, but that's essentially all they wanted me for: a consensus so that he could push the idea so that mom felt she really couldn't object to it. Basically, he gets all offended that I called him on his shit, so cue the fucking ranting to turn me into the fucking bad guy, with my oh so holier-than-thou sisters interjecting about how I'm a bitch every few seconds. And, of course, the conversation ends with the ever popular "IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT GTFO."

He wasn't looking for my goddamn opinion. My opinions mean jackshit to this man; they have ever since I was small. I should have fucking known.

"Well, you're not paying for it, so shut your mouth."

"No one here asked your opinion."

"This doesn't involve you."

I should have just said whatever and walked the fuck away. I should know better than to bother.

Why am I so damn stupid when it comes to my parents? I fall for their verbal traps all the goddamn time. I just don't get it. Besides that one time when I realized my mother was trying to bait me into an argument, I've been so stupid about falling for their shit. And every time, I wind up looking like the bad guy; the bitch. The one person who ruins everything and contributes nothing. Meanwhile, my sisters adjust their goddamn halos and throw their own personal bibles at me. Kind of backwards how such angels are allowed to throw the word "bitch" around.

Anyway, I'm sorry for the tl;dr again.

Seems like I do nothing but complain around here anymore. :\

Your Goddess and Mistress,

Shinimegami