I Hate This! Blog

I hate my father. Pure and simple, because I apparently act just like him. According to my mother, who was married to this man for two years, I have all of his traits. I cannot deny this simply because I do not know enough about my father to agree or disagree. I think I have met him a total of 5 times my entire life. He came to my grandfather’s funeral, I spent 3 summers with him when I was young, and I think he came once to surprise me. However, I still manage to “act just like him”.
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My girlfriend and I are in an LDR, and we use MSN a great deal to stay in touch every day. One evening, I told her that I’ve recently started watching the TV series ‘Lost’, and unknowingly unleashed a flood of hatred my way. She hates the programme - just like she hates Harry Potter - and no matter what my entreaties were, she ended up annoyed with me.
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I hate alcohol because of what it does to me in both the short term and the long term.

I don’t understand why I drink. I prefer to drink alone, in a pub where I can sit outside, to smoke and read.

It is an escape and is relaxing. But why do I need to drink to relax and escape? Why do I even need to escape?
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Ok, well I guess I better start from the beginning. I met this girl online in August of 2006 and we were just talking to blow off our free-time after work I school I whatever. I live in Oklahoma, and she lives in Ohio. Pretty long-distance if you ask me. And before I go on, I do know that 95% of long-distance relationships never work out. I was just hoping to be part of the 5% that does… When I first met her, I fell in lust with her body, but after talking to her for several months on the phone, I fell in love with her personality. So over the past year and a half, we would talk for hours on end every single day. Even a year later, I was still just as interested in her as I was the first time I met her. We’ve had our fair share of arguments, everybody does though, you know? But we’d get over it the very next day.
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I’m sure most of us have been there at one point or another. Your relationship with your significant other couldn’t be better—except for one thing—“The EX” or “The ‘best’ friend of the opposite (or same) sex. It’s that one person that your lover has been friends with since even before you got together—and its that same person that your lover will fight and argue with you about; saying they are just friends.
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I hate Christmas. I hate Christmas! Ok, there I said it.

Now I am sure I’m not the only one who feels this way. I searched “anti-christmas” and “i hate christmas” on the web and came up with lots and lots of sites. Some even stating F*** Christmas!
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I hate not being rich. That’s what this rant is actually all about. I hate being poor.
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I hate my sister. She is such a loser. I am the baby of my family and she is the oldest. My mom had my sister at an early age (15). My Grandmother decided to raise my sister. So she always lived with my Grandmother.
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I hate the societal pressure for girls to be thin.

I hate feeling fat for not weighing 100 pounds.

I hate not feeling attractive because I have curves.
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1. I MUST go on a diet. I hate my body. and that is not like me to say out loud in a room that i hate my body. I have always been a big girl, but I have never hated my body. I HATE it.
2. I need to go on a shopping spree. I need clothes that dont make me hate my body.
3. I need to stop eating moes. I am getting sick of it, yet I crave cheese dip, guacamole, and steak burritos all the time.
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Over the last few weeks my job has become the most depressing thing in my life. I’m so dis-heartnened by it all that I’m seriously considering getting myself sacked so I don’t have to do this anymore. It’s slowly killing off what’s left of me.

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The biggest irony of all: Cheyenne claims to be in graduate school to study sexual ethics.

As for Marl, he never responded to any of my e-mails. I saw him at a party once and he couldn’t look me in the eye. I recently found out he was present at another party I attended but hid from me the entire time. And this was all after I told him revenge was beneath me and that I wasn’t going to hurt him. What a coward. What a worthless excuse for a man.

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After reading all of this I just lay there in shock. I had a very physical reaction: I could actually feel stress hormones coursing through my body, especially in my stomach and in my quads. Sleep was out of the question. I called a mutual friend who—not surprisingly—already knew that Cheyenne and Marl were an item. Although she had lied to my face about Marl, she had given mutual friends permission to break the news to me. Ever the coward, she would do anything to avoid confrontation.

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Now before I go on I want to say that I am not a stalker. I have never called my ex-girl friend much less driven by her house, gone through her trash, or made any other effort to gain information about her or control her. I did what I did because she had already been caught in a lie and my sexual health was at stake. Unlike Cheyenne I had not started another relationship, but when I did I certainly didn’t want to spread any STDs from Marl the maggot.

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I moved out and for awhile it seemed like we might actually be able to be friends. Cheyenne certainly seemed comfortable calling me whenever she needed a ride somewhere. The fact that she acted so damn nice all the time concealed was a parasite she is.

About a week after I had moved out we met for brunch. I don’t know if Cheyenne had meant to invite other people or not but it was just the two of us. Cheyenne was hung over again, having spent another night at the strip club. When we sat down I noticed she had a large hickey on her neck. This was a little surprising since I had only moved out a week ago.

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