Complaing about a fancy bathroom

    Recently my house has been going through some renovations. When I say recently I mean it's been going on for almost two months now and I am sooooooo done with all of it. Unfortunately it's most likely going to last for another month, the plus side is my floor is more or less going to be done within a weeks time, then all that will be left is the living room and main entrance.
    In general the renovations should have been more or less finished by now, but my father kept adding things for the worker to do, thus a two month job turned into a three month job. That is not what I'm going to complain about though! Nope, what I'm going to talk about is in the title, well no shit.
    Now my fathers girlfriend has been really involved in all of the remodeling, she's pretty much the head designer while my father tends to pay for everything while also occasionally giving his own opinion. One of the things being done was my bathroom, which when asked how I want it done my response was 'gray tiles, no wood, floor and wall tiles, cabinets don't touch the ground.' A few specific request, but mostly pretty generic. The only thing I did was choose my wall tiles and I let the adults do everything else because I couldn't care less, I'm planning on ditching this place within a year so I saw no reason to add any input.
    So Anna (fathers gf) has pretty much styled the bathroom and I will admit it's very nice and fancy looking, but thats the thing.. It's too nice looking. I feel uncomfortable and out of place when I go there now and even though it's technically done I still go downstairs to use my grandmothers wash closet because it doesn't look like it belongs in a five star hotel. I sound like such a spoiled bitch, because honestly if you saw the place your eyes would pop, but it feels so foreign to me that ahahahahahahahahah. Let's just say it's going to take time getting used to.
    The fact that Anna also bought all the extra little bathroom things made me feel sort of sad, cause now it doesn't feel like my bathroom anymore. I'm just a guest in this house. My only place is my room. Everything else is my fathers and his to do with as he please's. I feel a rant coming on, but I think I'll just completely skip over that because it deserves it's own dedicated post.
    Instead I'll focus on the fact that someone I know has read some of my blog. Which is super weird and terrifying, but also somewhat nice because even after reading almost two years of all this random bullshit he still got coffee with me and bought me lunch! During our meet up he brought up two things about me that I never really noticed.
    The first is that I apparently have very abrupt goodbyes, which I never really thought about or even noticed, but he brought it to my attention the last time we met up. I'm not sure how this works. To my understanding when people are about to go they say 'well this was fun and shit, but I gotta run' hand wave, girly/macho hug, hand shake and bye. Is that not how it works? Is it suppose to like drag out or something? Is there a proper goodbye etiquette that I am completely unaware of?
    Anything is possible, but I just find it amusing. Maybe my goodbyes are quick, because I don't like them. I've been through so many painful goodbyes that I probably treat all of them like a band aid- Quick and 'painless.'
    The second thing he brought to my attention that I already sort of knew about was the fact that I am a total emotional sadist on here. Which I knew, sometimes when I'm feeling really sad I let the emotion consume me and allow it to create whatever it desires to help me get through the feeling.
     I've found that to be my best method of sorting through my emotions, specially when I don't understand jack, but I will admit that they can be excessively cruel sometimes. I'm sorry for killing you Aster, I won't do it again..... maybe...
    Anyway I never thought that my post could pull at someone else's heart strings, which I found out from my friend that so far two of them have (I'm secretly hoping at least one will make him question his sanity). One is snow globes and the other was your ideal world. One is about seeing a broken me, a dead me, the other was about moments in my life and what if they hadn't happened?
    There was a line hinting at how Aster and I first got together, how he asked me to be his human and thats how it all started. There though he never got the chance and it didn't come to pass, which surprisingly caused a reaction in my friend. His manly emotions were stomped out by his romantic side and he made me question why I wrote something so painful. It's something I can't answer because I tend to just write, still I apologize.
    There's one more thing that he asked me, before he started to read my blog.

Was Aster worth the depression?

    Honestly, that's such a loaded question. It's assuming that if I didn't move and I somehow convinced my parents to stay in america that I wouldn't have gone through such a serious depression. That I wouldn't have felt the things I felt, done the things I did, came out broken and chipped but could somehow still smile.
    I answered what I felt to be an honest answer which was yes. If I woke up in my 13 year old body with my memories intact I would have taken the same steps I did before, because after 5 years of hell a stranger who was looking for a potential girlfriend decided to try to get to know me. And after trying to push him away with depressing talks, allusions to death and suicide, he still stayed for some fucking reason and is still here.
    The fact that I would go through that shit again for him, just goes to show I'm absolutely smitten with him. Damn weasel takes after his name sake cause he's burrowed his way into my heart and made himself comfortable there. The damn prat.
    Ugh, just goes to show that even I can act like a fricken love sick teenager, gross. Allow me to go hide in a bush and avoid every human until I feel androgynous again.