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To my dearest sister, although I doubt that you'll read this.

Number one: Stop fucking moping and playing the part of the Poor Little University student. You've had all day to work. Half of it was spent talking to your friends in Norway and playing Solitaire. Nobody wants to hear that shit.

Number two: If you want to go home so much, go home. You have a UPass, use it. And while you're at it, take your shit out of my room. Most people's idea of "moving out" includes taking their stuff with them. You don't even live here and you take up more of my room than I do. Any time I try to move your stuff I find it moved back to exactly where it was before the next time you come over. And you complain that your apartment doesn't feel lived in.

Number three: I do not appreciate you hitting me. Violence is not the answer.

Playing my music loud to drown out the sound of you complaining about me to mom.