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04-02-03 - 11:57 p.m.

I don't know what I'm going to do about Ricky.

He was suspended from school for three days for getting caught ditching. He and some friends were trying to sneak off campus to smoke. He doesn't smoke. He has never smoked. But suddenly he wanted to try, and instead of asking his older sister and legal guardian, who just so happens to be an occasional smoker, he decided to try and ditch.

So I got hauled into the administration office and asked a bunch of intrusive questions about my life and how it is for Ricky at home. And they called Social Services. They claimed it was their legal obligation. My fucking ass it was. All the times I got caught doing shit way worse when I was in high school, they never once phoned the feds. They rarely ever even tried contacting my parents. (Mostly because they knew that doing so would a> make it worse for me or b> achieve nothing.)

Quick other rant: I hate that they fucking knew what all was happening to me when I was growing up, and by "they" I mean school nurses, local doctors, teachers, tutors, dance instructors, everybody who ever saw and/or talked to me, and not one of them have the balls to do anything about it. Nobody ever wants to get involved. Well, here's my advice. You think somebody's getting raped and battered? Chances are, you're right, so

get the fuck involved.

/End PSA.

Ricky is just stressing me out so much. This morning he and I had an argument, wherein he said some things that really hurt me. I grounded him from TV, computer, phone, and leaving the house, and he told me to stop acting like I was trying to be his mother. When I instead said I was merely trying to be a big sister, he said, "It's not like you're even my real sister." Rub the belated adoption in my face a little more, Ricky. Then he said he wanted to stay at our big sister Carrie's place for as long as his suspension lasts (three days), so he could be with his "real" sister.

I know he said it just to hurt me, and that's what really hurts most of all. He's supposed to be my ally. We're alone in this, but we're alone together. Or so I thought.

I'm just wondering if maybe this whole guardianship was a mistake, if maybe this whole time I've been meeting my needs and not his. God forbid I be alone.

Hell with it. I'm going to Disneyland.

 

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