So before we begin, I would like to share some great news with everyone. I finished another semester of university, acing all my subjects with Distinctions whilst graduating as a Makeup-artist at the same time. So yes, I'm officially qualified to paint faces... however because I haven't been in since to sign my paperwork I actually may not be as qualified as I thought. Other than that, I'm dandy as fuck.

I'm happy... or I thought I was. I was happy about my achievements and my life accomplishments. I mean in 6 fucking weeks I'm going overseas for a month to relax... but now I feel as if I'm excited to go overseas to escape. I want to escape the events that have taken place within the past week. I'm normally a very aggressive person, normally, but for some reason after everything that has happened... I can't seem to voice my anger as I would normally do. It's all boiled inside me, and because I'm so god damn upset about everything... I'm unable to get angry and all I do is bloody cry. What a girl.

This post will be long, and regardless of whether anyone reads, it's long because I need to get it out. No one seems to understand or get it completely, I honestly don't think I can talk to anyone and feel completely safe with my words. There's been a whole lot of misunderstanding lately, and I'm sure whatever I say it's bound to reflect and bite me in the ass because someone, doesn't understand my feelings.

I'm turning 21 this Sunday, but as an early celebration I decided to have a joint party with a friend in a getaway house we've been before. Now words won't even do justice how beautiful the place is, secluded on a hill with nature's best views surrounding the premise. It was relaxing, spectacular, and amazing. One of the many reasons why I had wanted to go back and spend my big moment there.

I'm turning 21 but for my birthday celebration, I was miserable. I won't say I was upset the whole 3 days and 2 nights, but let's just say, I didn't feel whatsoever like the birthday girl. My expectations were drowned the instance I was sober. My intentions for the getaway was to relax, avoid my hectic stress habits and have fun for the first time in a while. I can't help it that stress follows me everywhere, but it also didn't help the way some people handled the situation. It could have been better, it was unfair I was left to deal with almost everything and feel like a complete idiot for trusting anyone.

The first night: we had a BBQ, it was deemed the party night. Almost everyone was drinking, we were all having fun. Everyone was just enjoying themselves, ffs we had Danh shoving people shots every 5 minutes to the point that all our alcohol was gone the next day, except a bottle of smirnoff and some beers. I claimed the left over bottle of smirnoff because my bottle that I bought from my own stash was finished. There's my explanation before people go haywire and accuse me of taking the last communal drink. I did however offer people to take their beers... no one did and it had to go somewhere so here it is, sitting in a tub in my kitchen.

I was having fun, swimming in the pool, getting in the spa, drinking with my friends... this probably lasted 3-4 hours. Then drama happened. I was trying to calm a friend who was trying to start fights, And seriously fuck me for not getting both sides of the story before saying anything. I heard his side and understand the situation that has happened. It was a case of misunderstanding and people too fucking drunk to understand right from wrong. He was clearly just fucking upset. If someone knocked me whether on purpose or by accident and my entire mouth was bleeding... I WOULD BE BLOODY FUCKING UPSET. I would rage but obviously if I was sober, I would just cry.

So whilst all this was happening, and while I was so done with this shit I decided to pass out and sleep. I get to a point when I'm drunk, and when something pisses me off that I'd rather not bother anyone else and just be on my way to lala land. But hey, at least I fucking tried. I wake up the next morning, with Michael warning me to be calm and telling me that someone broke a fucking window. HOLY SHIT the things that bombarded in my head. So much to the point I couldn't even think straight and deal with it. So I stayed quiet and went to assess the issue. It's good Michael decided to tell me in the morning, who knows how fucking pissed off and upset I would have been if I were to deal with that in my drunk state. I was explained to that everything was an accident, mainly due to the fact that the spa was on. I acknowledge that I was in the spa but I will not acknowledge that it was my fault. After I got out I ran straight into my room which was opposite the spa to change. The hall was wet because people didn't dry themselves properly after getting out. Now I was civil about the situations, I apologised to people and made sure the guy who fell wasn't in anyway hurt. I was worried about the glass, but I was worried more about injuries. But what happened next blew my fucking mind beyond anything even possible.

It was 8 in the morning, and I was told that they would get a glassier in to fix the problem and it wasn't a hassle at all. Too easy... but when was it going to be done? So I did the right thing by heading in to talk to the other birthday girl, after all, it was 'her mate' that did fall and break the glass. I did my part and chipped in for the repairs... but was it also my duty to fucking handle the situation? The conversation went as follow...

Me: Can we talk?
Her: Now? Dude I haven't slept all night
Me: Is that my fucking problem?

Apparently it was, because the whole shit landed on me. I got one of her friends to at first  be in charge of finding a someone to repair the damage on behalf of her, and he was nice, he was willing. But god dammit, he sounded so off on the phone, and he kept calling the wrong people that even after a bloody hour, nothing was going anywhere. So Michael did what he felt was right and took over. If you're going to fucking say that no one told us to take over, then you can get fucked. None of you people bloody thought it was within your responsibility to fix it, so we as human beings were left to do it all. At least when I was passed out, Michael was still handling the almost near fight situation, at least one of my other friends forced the upset friend to go home so there won't be anymore problems. AT LEAST IT WAS HANDLED. I didn't want my boyfriend dealing with anymore shit so I took over.

So after a long hour, I was beginning to get worried we would lose our bond, $1000 fucking dollars, and no one would be able to come out to get it fixed. I WAS WORRIED! WHY SHOULD IT HAVE TO BE ME THE ONLY ONE FUCKING WORRIED? All I wanted to do was have fun but because people didn't pick up their shit I had to be left responsible for the mess? I stress as it is, if those I deemed good friends with me had for a second considered my feelings... even with just the fucking moral support I would have been happy. But no, I had to stress about losing our bond and about not getting it fixed in time. All the glassier said they won't come done because we were too far, either that or they were booked and busy. If you were me for a second? Would you not have worried? So the whole day whilst I was trying to enjoy myself, at the back of my mind I was just waiting for the call from the lady who said she could help us out. All while the person who should have been there to do something, slept because she didn't sleep all night.

And people defending her... just don't. Just don't. If you aren't happy about my rants then just don't listen. I'm trying to understand it in her shoes and honestly, as a decent human being if I were in her shoes I would get my shit together and help solve the problem 'my mate' accidentally got into.

I was fine when the strawberries my uncle bought for me was consumed by other people who weren't my friends. I was fine when my peach ice tea was consumed by other people who weren't my friends. (Yeah it was my fault for not writing my name on things) I was fine with cooking and cleaning lunch, then cooking dinner. All you had to do to contribute... was clean dinner. THAT WAS IT. I woke up on the third morning after having several arguments with Michael to a table still with last night's dinner. Did you not consider anything? Fuck, at that point I gave up with everything. I wasn't even asking for much.

But you know what I was not fine with? Out of everything? The mother fuckers who ate the profiteroles rolls on my fucking cake. There was a fucking reason one was wrapped in a tin foil put into the fridge for me too. There was a reason there was 2 left on the cake for me. BECAUSE I DIDN'T FUCKING HAVE ANY AND IT WAS MY FUCKING CAKE. SO FUCK YOU ALL WHO THINK I'M BEING SILLY ABOUT SOME PASTRY! FUCK YOU ALL FOR THINKING I'M A WHINY BITCH! IT WAS MY PROFITTEROLE AND IT WAS THE ONLY FUCKING THING I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TOO AFTER ALL THE SHIT I HAD TO DEAL WITH. SO FUCK YOU ALL YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES I FUCKING HATE YOU ALL.

I can't fucking stand how and understand how shit this supposed birthday celebration was. While I'm being told everyone was having a good time, why was I the only one then who had an overall shit experience? How do you think I feel when one of my friends says he had to go into his room because too much hardstyle was being played till the early mornings. EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE ENJOYED THEMSELVES. NOT JUST YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS. Everyone.

So here I sit crying again, just over and over again about how shit it all went down for me. I hope I don't ever have to cry again because of this and this will be the last of it all. I'm so fucking upset. So fucking bloody upset. And for those who don't get it, don't bother trying to understand. I'd rather you continue talking shit about how over dramatic I am and just fuck the fuck away from me. 

It's not going to be okay. It's not going to get better. The one thing I hate the most, are idealistic talkers. Those who can say shit about how it's all going to be okay and how they understand. But when push comes to shove, they fall apart and don't do shit about themselves. I'm getting it together now but ending this problem here once and for all. Don't bother me with your bullshit. Don't bother me with idealistic talk.

In 6 weeks I'm gone... and if I could, I would be gone for longer. I need a break from everyone, but this time it's happening for real... and it's happening in 6 weeks. I'm finished.