Flustrated!

Yes, that's right; I am appropriating the non-word 'flustrated' to describe the feeling one has when a grammar nazi (or nazis) cannot get past the your/you're or they're/their kind of mistakes under any circumstances.

I mean, do you honestly mean to tell me that if your little child hand-wrote a card for you which said 'YOUR THE BEST MOM (or Dad)', that you would sit the kid down and talk to them about their grammar? What if it were a Special Ed kid? What if it were just some random app-writing fucknut on Facebook?

One of my really dear friends sent a hug to me on Facebook that contained a your/you're swap. It's not been two hours, and already I have two comments (one of them is a cousin ::hangs head::) trying to show off how 'smart' they are by pointing out the error.

How. Fucking. Rude.

I hate pedants. I make fun of mistakes, but I don't have the urge to invariably piss on *everyone's* parade just to show how so-called intelligent I am. Especially right now -- with both of them fully aware my life is Hell -- when I actually *am* grateful that ANYONE would take two minutes to do something nice for me...it just makes me rage.

It makes me FLUSTRATED. So there. Nyah. I have just proclaimed 'flustrated' to be a real word.

I would have gone off on them on my wall, but I have, like, dignity.

Butsoanyway.

I had an SRP this morning, and I am *still* in pain. I have a ton to write, and am dreading my brother leaving.

Yes, that's right: I'm still scared.
If I didn't have Karen, I don't know what I would do; I haven't felt like talking much, but she lost both parents when she was in her early twenties (both to cancer), and knows how cast-adrift I am feeling.

Lord...I am falling asleep. Hugs, love, and hopefully no flustration. <3



- Posted using SomeBlogApp that I don't know how to use. o_O