The Envious Sourpuss: That's Me!

every day, i'm finding more and more that i am the most jealous person i know. if someone does something right, i start sending off sparks of fury. the people that make me angriest in this way are those closest to me, of course. evan, my brother eric, and bethany especially. because i don't want to fill everyone's twitter pages with my ranting, i'll ramble at you, blog friends.

evan is good at mostly everything. he's a prodigious musician, as you probably all know. he can sing like no other, and if you hand him a strange instrument, he can learn how to play it impeccably it in a matter of weeks.
he's handsome as sin, as well. sorry to hint at my sexual behavior, but his entire body is my favorite work of art. his eyes are somehow green and blue at the same time, with just the right amount of freckles in them. his fucking eyelashes go on for longer than the universe itself, and his lips are shaped perfectly and are always juicy and nice. there isn't a single iota of chub on him, and, in my opinion, he has just the right amount of muscle. he's just strong enough to lift me (and let's face it: i weigh a helluva lot more than he does), but not so strong that i'm afraid of him. how could anyone fear someone so sweet, anyway?
which leads us to another factor of my jealousy: how can someone so fucking talented be so humble and kind? until i started shooting darts of adoration his way, he was the most insecure little bug i knew. but he's still modest, even with me mumbling constant compliments through just as frequent kisses to his rock-hard abs.

now, onto bethany. (i promise these paragraphs will be far less sexual. i can't promise they'll be less cheesy, though.)
i met bethany in fourth grade. i knew of her existence before then, but i was always afraid of her. envious of her. everyone knew that she was the best singer in our class, and i hated her for it. in fact, i still hate it. when she has a solo at a concert, i can't help but let a big, proud grin spread across my face, but i still envy her voice. mr. hosbond, her musical theatre director and the one teacher i wish i could impress, thinks that she's the best soloist he's ever heard. i used to think that i had a chance at being a great singer, but insecurity has prevented me from trying.
and bethany, you're beautiful. i've always envied your hair for its amazing growth rate, and it's always so smooth and soft. your eyes are like, BAM! and, whether you'll accept it or not, your skin's fantastic. you somehow manage to look lazy and still oddly pretty in pajama pants and nerdy-as-hell t-shirts. you're the perfect example of a desirable nerd girl, which you know i wish i could be.
you're a great writer and an even better artist. you've got more of a personality than i do, which i always thought was a difficult feat to accomplish. mr. hosbond says you're a character. you're better in school than i am (doesn't take much, but still), and you're one of the reasons why i've never tried for speech team. you and ashley are too good, and i don't want to have to compete for the stage with you.
doubtless you'll retaliate to this whole post with, "don't envy me! i envy you! you're better at drawing than i am and you've got boobs and great eyes." thanks, but i've heard it a hundred times and i don't feel any differently.

and lastly, stupid eric.
my mom just worships him. i don't know what happened. i used to be the good kid, the smart one. now that he's away, she sees him as a fucking genius, and oh, isn't he cute in his hobo clothes? christmas is already hell for me. the relatives that we barely know are down, and they've never met eric, never heard his disrespectful comments, his hypocritical notions of peace through force, his suggestions of smoking pot to achieve happiness. the stories mom tells are all so admirable, enviable. don't you wish your kids were like eric is? he doesn't care for material possessions, you know. oh, no, he's never asked us for money. yes, he's in california right now and he hopes to eventually go to normandy to be an organic apple farmer. he says the apples there are great, but he's never tasted them. he's so silly, our son.
nothing is mentioned of the drugs, the alcohol, the sleeping around. no one hears of the story where he left the Hannes family to go back to the father who knowingly and willingly disowned him seven years ago and attempted to murder his mother. no one hears about the things that he screamed at mom, the false accusations, the lies spread from father to son. no one knows that eric asks for money regularly, nor do they know that my christmas money was taken from me so that mom could send it to him.
how can someone so utterly horrible be so well-liked? eric always treated us like shit. are people forgetting this just because he's too far to yell at us? i was on the B honor roll for the first time since middle school, and i got nothing more than a, "did you know?" out of my parents. eric refuses to go to college, and he gets over five hundred dollars from his family members.
i finally got a higher chair placement in band, i'm in select choir, and i'm in the advanced group in my composition class. i don't ask my parents for a cell phone, i told them not to get me the car they got me, and i don't want them to buy me excessively flashy things. i do the chores i'm asked to (most of the time), and i try not to mouth of too much of the time. but even with all of these things going for us, i am their nobody child. i'm not doing anything exciting; i'm just here. i guess it's understandable that they're not jumping up and down with pom-poms and screaming my name.

i suppose i'm done ranting for now. i envy many, many more people, and i'm obvious about it, but i envy these three the most of all.

oh yeah.
merry christmas?