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I may be a little late jumping on the bandwagon, but here it goes.
To my so-called "best friend"- I flew 6000 miles roundtrip from LA to DC just so you wouldn't be lonely while you were interning there. I've picked you up at the bar numerous times when you were just too drunk to drive. How many times have I dropped everything at 2 am to come and help you write a paper, because you called me crying on the phone.
Through all that, I still forgave you when you got together with my ex-boyfriend less than a week after we had broken up.
Yet, you still don't call me all of winter break, right after I had knee surgery and couldn't drive or walk. I leave a total of 8 messages for you, and you don't have the common courtesy to return one of them after all of the shit that I have done for you? Well, screw you. And I hope that Jeremy cheats on you the way he did to me.
To my father- What is more important to you? Money or your daughter. It's time to make a decision.
I'll just remember that next time that i get pushed down a flight of stairs while I'm on crutches with a cast that goes from the top of my hip to my ankle, that I don't call collect. Because heaven forbid that I should call my parents when I am scared.
And Dad, I'll make sure that I go find a job right now. I'm sure that everybody would love to hire somebody who is on crutches and can't drive herself to work.
Along those same lines, I'm going to walk allover the greater Los Angeles/Orange County area on my crutches to find a physical therapy center that suits your specifications.
And make sure that you take all of your work frustrations out on Mom, because she doesn't get up at 5 am to make sure that when you get breakfast is on the table and that you have a healthy lunch to take to work. And I know that she doesn't have your work clothes clean and pressed for you when you go to work.And she surely doesn't make your fat ass dinner every night, while you watch reruns of MASH.
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