Today, for the first time in Rachel blog history, I received a complaint. Because of this complaint I have learned more about myself. Let me explain...

For years now I have examined the root of my bitterness and hate. Could it stem from my mother who has acquired such nick names as "The Rage" or "Stewart of Gondor"? Though she is crazy, I figured that if I had her crazy genes, the insanity that has gripped her would have surely taken me over by now and I wouldn't have the bitterness and hate I harbor, but just a lot of crazy instead. So, we turn to the other possible source: My Father. Dads not crazy but he does happen to be mean some times. Most recently I have been referred to as "Rach-ho". Though this nickname arrived because of a certain short skirt I conceal in my closet, I'm certainly not a scank and the nickname is misleading and hurtful. We could take the term of endearment he uses for my hair, "the Mop" and examine it or maybe count all the times he has called me fat and ridiculed me about my nose, but still, he can't be held accountable for my situation. Because these circumstances have emotionally scarred me they do accout for some of my bitterness and hate towards the world, but, not all. Tonight I came to an understanding; Chelsea Cates, my older sister, is single handily responsible for my state of mind. Take these simple facts into consideration:
1.)She doesn't like it when I express my feelings.
2.)She constantly steals my thunder by claiming all the great ideas I had in childhood as her own.
3.)Chels, being the perfect, 4.0 wonder child of the Cates family, is continually showered with love, gifts and a working car with dent resistant side panels.
4.)She once picked my best friend and I up by our underwear and gave us tremendous wedgies while swing us around the room. We might have hit her with something, I'm not sure, but I do know she had a glint of crazy in her eyes.
5.)She had an English nanny who read to her non stop as a child = instantly cooler
6.)She, unlike I, had two Christmases as a child, but the year I was born, Christmas was no longer.
7.)She received the traditional Cates middle name of Ann, where I got the crazy Lee middle name from my moms side.
8.)At 4 she taught herself how to ride a bike, a two wheeler at that.
9.)Back in my most fragile years Chels stole my favorite toy from me, Taloola Tomato, and threw it outside our moving car onto the cement drive way of a fire station. Mom had to turn the car around, get out, pick it up and when she returned to the car and asked whose toy it was, Chels, quick on the up take, said it was hers and Taloola was lost forever.
10.)Lastly, she stole my first boyfriend from me, John Mayer, and never even offered to share.

As you can see by the mounting evidence above any child who would have been forced to live with such a person would most defiantly turn out bitter and hateful towards a world in which her sister could do no wrong. So, now that I have a scape goat on which to blame all my problems and failures, short comings and heart ache, I just wanted to let you all know that I made some of that up and Chelsea made fun of me earlier today with Megan "hate" Curren in the background and that I felt I needed to share with you all that if you make fun of me I will publicly degrade you in my blog.


Jokes!
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