So Much Stupid

So I couldn't get the tat today; the artist my mom commissioned decided to change his phone number without announcement.

It was whatever. There are other shops.

We went to American Classic, of course excited about getting the tattoo; my mom heard that she'd be able to either get one that day or schedule one the next. Found out you can only do the latter if you're getting a tattoo that costs $400 or more.

I opted to do something else I wanted to do and got my right ear pierced. Fun times, pleasant guy.

After that, we went to Longhorn's to get some dinner to go. Argument between mom and sis, funny server, getting people talking and we were on our way.

At home, we ate then I finished working on some project of mom's I got drafted into.

Clive came home during that. We started to work on a project to organize and simplify his room. I had him start going through his things. Friction came quickly.

First, I asked him about the fact that he has so much of the same thing.

"That's just me; I don't like going to the store everytime I run out of things."

I pointed out that he works at Wal-Mart; he is in a store five days a week. There is no reason for him to hoard as he does.

I asked him about the video games he has. I asked him to decide what he can't live without.

"That's not me, I'm sorry; I'm not going to say that I can't live without a video game."

"Oh, so you're fine to trade in every game you've finished then? I mean, since you aren't attacked to them like that?"

[silence]

"Let's not act like we don't understand hyperbole, okay? You know what I'm getting at. What games do you have a strong desire not to part with?"

Then he explains that he has more than one copy of a few games.

"Trade that in; you don't need it."

More excuses starting with "That's not me..."

Of course it isn't. You is a mess. You has too many things you don't need. You threw away half of the things you had sitting around because they were empty containers. You came to me asking me for help so you could do something different then deny the path and process.

Confrontation was quick and decisive: "Do you want my help or not?"

The response was indicting: "No I don't; sorry for wasting your time."

My mom walked into the room and asked me how things were on the assignment. They were fine. Then she asked me I was ok (no) did I want to talk about it (not now) and so on.

I'm so angry at him. I'm still angry at him. I will be angry with him for a while from now. He has no reason to act as he is and now I'm just going to have to group him in with Phillip as a person that lies to themselves about the change they want to see in life all the while never doing the things needed to make it happen and for the most bullshit reasons.

I'm angry and I'm done. I very well might not speak to him again and for a while.