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Rant (in miniature)
Yes, I have at last come to terms with the fact that my brother is far smarter than I am. He's funny, hilarious even, he's incredibly smart, he knows all there is to know about European history. He can whip out witty responses to anything in a second flat. And he's just plain smart. This, however, combined with the times he is so undeniably stupid, tends to get to me on off days and piss me off. Oh my. I hate having the fear that when my brother gets mad at school he will whip out throwing knives or something and kill someone. Yay! I have good parents, don't get me wrong, but I think the leaving weapons around the house thing has got to stop. Really. He keeps them in his desk; I'm just waiting to see them sticking out of his backpack. His meetings with the counselor start tomorrow. He's getting a psychologist (psychiatrist? I get the two confused) says mum. Whoo hoo. I hope that they find time to work on his name-calling tendencies, you know, after they get through the I-can-only-have-one-friend problem and the violent tendencies. If he calls me fat and ugly one more time this evening I'm going to dent his nose in. I really should do my history project, but instead I'm going to the garage and doing karate. It'll get done, probably.
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