Don't give me this bullshit about how you like how I look. I myself hate what I see when I look in the goddamn mirror, and if I got the chance to change ANYTHING about myself, I would change EVERYTHING. You have NO IDEA how it is like to be me in a world (fucking US of A) that expects me to be a size double zero stick. Other than Ulyana (who is gorgeous and has the prettiest eyes in the world) every single Russian chick I know is tiny. And by tiny I mean several could fit into me. That makes me feel just fucking pleasant.
I am tired of all the jokes you and Rachel make. So I gained a couple of pounds, that's what happens when you are on birth-control, and you should have thought of that before taking me there. I am tired of my mom making jokes that if I go ice-skating, the fucking ice would break. Rachel saying that nothing will fit me because I have been eating too much. And hey, let's not forget a couple of choice ones you used. They're not jokes Carlos. They hurt. And a lot.
And let's not forget about your ever-so-perfect extended family. Shit, I'm SORRY that I don't dress in Abercrombie and Bitch, first of all, I can't afford that shit, and second of all, I think I am a tiny little bit too different from everybody else to try and conform to your stupid American standards. The fact that I am smart has no saying whatsoever in this goddamn country, all of the jobs and attention go to stick blonde bitches.
Fuck, if you even saw the look BOTH of your cousins gave me when I walked in. Carmen I can somewhat stand, she is nice from time to time, but Lily... I walked in and she looked at me like I am trash. Is that all I am to you? Trash? Here I arrive, in jeans and a T shirt and I couldn't even get the fucking door closed because of the goddamn rug and she looked at me like at a pathetic animal. So don't give me shit about how everything is fine because she hasn't said anything to my face because her face says it all. That fucking face with the perfect skin, perfect makeup, and actually DONE hair the entire package wrapped with A&F or Hollister or whatever the fuck you guys wear. Oh Ruehl. That's right, that shit, great memories about the place where you used to work, huh?
AND DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO WITH MY FUCKING BODY. I want to go and get a tan, I will. I want to lose some weight, I will. I want to get highlights, damn straight I will and bleach my fucking hair if that's what it takes. I am not doing it for myself, I am far beyond caring about my pathetic excuse for a female body, I am doing it to get the bitch off my back and so you don't look stupid with a girlfriend that... well, looks like me.
DON'T GIVE ME SHIT ABOUT HOW I AM PERFECT HOW I AM. Don't lie to me. Please. After all this shit, that is the last thing I want. And I will definitely not stand it.
And if you have a problem with me tanning or cutting down calories, YOU AND SEVERAL CHOICE PEOPLE started this. So no, I see no fault of mine in this. Sorry.
I don't want to see the bitch again. Ever. She ever comes to your house again, I will leave. I don't care if I have to walk if it's raining or if I'm sick. I would rather fucking get pneumonia than face that her. Because I am telling you this now as a warning, I might not be the greatest-looking-Victoria's-
I'm done. My rant is over. I still love you to death... but I am hurt. And since I don't find yelling at you very pleasant, I wrote this out. I give up, and if being a stick is what it takes to be accepted into your perfect family and into the glorious society, then fine.
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