I pierced my ears again
Perhaps I shouldn't have talked it up. In the world of 21+ holes per person, it is no biggie. In my little world...it still reigns supreme.
Overall, life goes well...can't complain about that. Yesterday was Matt's Birthday. What did he get? My crap :) I told him months ago we really needed to figure out how we were going to do moving my stuff. Finally it came down to the last Saturday I live here. He wanted to do it in one load so he rented "A BIGGIN" GOOD LORD! It was like a four wheel 18 wheeler! It beeped when you put it in reverse! Kinda embarrasing to have that thing come up my yard and to my front door. But Matt brought his dad, so my whole family but money grubbing Greg came to meet him...and they did a good job. We were done by 2pm!
So here in my apartment I have my couch which we hope to sell, my TV stuff for my party this evening and a mattres to sleep on. The party went well. Pizza and Orlando Bloom, cannot go wrong there! Three of five showed up, I assumed 'psycomaid' wouldn't. My cousin said she was coming but she's only 12 so we'll let it slide! Got to see Cat's wedding pictures and it was cool to have my friends in one spots. Usually it's a one at a time deal, I could get lazy and used to this ;)
But yeah of course it ends oddly. During the move Saturday Matt and his dad weren't careful enough and they pulled my washer off and the water dripped. Did it drip conviently towards the slope in the floor and down the drain? NO!!!! They left a hose attached and the it was pointed towards my bedroom. It dripped for 35 hours. I had it drip in a trash can awhile, I got about a gallon in an hour! Here it is almost 12 hours since I found it and I've used every towel and blanket in the house, stomping on the floor to get the water out and completely saturating the towels. Yet no improvement. It is SO wet you can hear it when you walk over it.
I took my towels over to my parents to dry them, cause I don't have a dryer and towels take a long time to dry...for obvious reasons. My mother was ready and willing to help me out. My father found out, got in my face and threw a fit. You are not going to stick YOUR dirty towels that have been all over YOUR dirty floor into MMMYYY clean dryer!!! Yeah I know he techincally has a point but for the love of god...he knows I have to have this place spotless or they are going to rip my deposit apart. I don't have time for him to put my towels in his special order of laundry and collect them a few days later. I have to get it cleaned up. Bottom line... And what the freak is he talking about...His house is a complete and total dump. He thinks the most random things are sacred and clean, it's stupid.
I just may deep down hate him. I genuinely hate how far a second I come to his stuff. "your dirty....MMMMMYYYYY dryer" Last time I was upset it was HHHIIISSS plunger he couldn't let me borrow! The only reason he came to move yesterday was because some of the stuff is of importance to him, family heirloom. He could care less about me. When he has discussions with the family about my upcoming wedding, it's not about...is Matt a good man, can they see him more, what needs to be done. He could care less about anything, he doesn't ask what Matt does for a living..ANYTHING! All he talks about are getting his things back, like this computer for example. He's thrown big fits about getting it back, though he said I'd get a new one for graduation. I said...yeah okay...but we both knew he wasn't going to. We've gone from..."oh yeah we are going to go out and get you a new computer." To "She's stealing my computer, I bet she's going to sell her piano." It's pathetic. It tears me apart that he doesn't really care about anything...just his stuff!!!! I know, it's the usual...he's right and technically he is about his stupid clean dryer. It just kills me that I would do anything for anybody and he is such an ass. Where does he come from? Maybe he isn't really my dad like he says ALL the time.
He has SOOO much stuff their house is a dump, people are not permitted over. I am getting married and nobody can set foot in their house. I am moving home and I have to make sure all my shiz that I may need help with is complete before I go back there, cause once in...that's it. He filled his carport with old stuff...built a shed to hold stuff and recently bought ANOTHER shed. There is so much stuff the weather outside is destoying it. He has over 30 copies of the same chair from the place he USED to work...cause his father worked their. His life is lived through his stuff...it's just a shame I am not included in it. They don't take pictures of us, they don't hang pictures, they don't buy pictures. They don't save our stuff. We are not antiques we are not old and important. All his stuff and memories are of people done and gone. Maybe that's why I was suicidal so many years. You have to die first to get anywhere.
His obsession with stuff seriously pisses me off. Went from a happy party to bawling myself into a painful mess. I don't know where I'm going to sleep tonight, my bedroom is a swamp, my matresses are on their sides out of the swamps way. What am I going to do, crash out at my parents??? Every single towel I own in at my parents cause I just left in a hurry before I went on a rampage infront of them. He could care less what I think or feel, so why give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry? At my wedding he will probably cry and do a great first dance but deep down, his heart is in his stuff back home. On the outside he'll put on a good show. He won't miss me, he won't call me, he won't ask how I'm doing, he won't offer to help and he'll never visit me. And it hurts to know this, hurts to live it already. Stuff like the dryer just sets it off. I'm not worth the gas money or long distance phone call. When I do all the work, all the visiting, all the talking...it's slightly resembles a father daughter relationship. He allows me to hug him sometimes and occasionally talks back. Nothing of importance usually but I'll come running anytime I can get it, nomatter what happens before. He does have the right to choose to be a pack rat, I just wish I ranked somewhere.
It's hard to be so upset you can't calm down. I still don't have a good way of dealing with it. Stupid things are out of the question but what is smart is still unknown to me. Maybe I will go get ice cream. There's no way in hell I'll fit my dress in three weeks.
Overall, life goes well...can't complain about that. Yesterday was Matt's Birthday. What did he get? My crap :) I told him months ago we really needed to figure out how we were going to do moving my stuff. Finally it came down to the last Saturday I live here. He wanted to do it in one load so he rented "A BIGGIN" GOOD LORD! It was like a four wheel 18 wheeler! It beeped when you put it in reverse! Kinda embarrasing to have that thing come up my yard and to my front door. But Matt brought his dad, so my whole family but money grubbing Greg came to meet him...and they did a good job. We were done by 2pm!
So here in my apartment I have my couch which we hope to sell, my TV stuff for my party this evening and a mattres to sleep on. The party went well. Pizza and Orlando Bloom, cannot go wrong there! Three of five showed up, I assumed 'psycomaid' wouldn't. My cousin said she was coming but she's only 12 so we'll let it slide! Got to see Cat's wedding pictures and it was cool to have my friends in one spots. Usually it's a one at a time deal, I could get lazy and used to this ;)
But yeah of course it ends oddly. During the move Saturday Matt and his dad weren't careful enough and they pulled my washer off and the water dripped. Did it drip conviently towards the slope in the floor and down the drain? NO!!!! They left a hose attached and the it was pointed towards my bedroom. It dripped for 35 hours. I had it drip in a trash can awhile, I got about a gallon in an hour! Here it is almost 12 hours since I found it and I've used every towel and blanket in the house, stomping on the floor to get the water out and completely saturating the towels. Yet no improvement. It is SO wet you can hear it when you walk over it.
I took my towels over to my parents to dry them, cause I don't have a dryer and towels take a long time to dry...for obvious reasons. My mother was ready and willing to help me out. My father found out, got in my face and threw a fit. You are not going to stick YOUR dirty towels that have been all over YOUR dirty floor into MMMYYY clean dryer!!! Yeah I know he techincally has a point but for the love of god...he knows I have to have this place spotless or they are going to rip my deposit apart. I don't have time for him to put my towels in his special order of laundry and collect them a few days later. I have to get it cleaned up. Bottom line... And what the freak is he talking about...His house is a complete and total dump. He thinks the most random things are sacred and clean, it's stupid.
I just may deep down hate him. I genuinely hate how far a second I come to his stuff. "your dirty....MMMMMYYYYY dryer" Last time I was upset it was HHHIIISSS plunger he couldn't let me borrow! The only reason he came to move yesterday was because some of the stuff is of importance to him, family heirloom. He could care less about me. When he has discussions with the family about my upcoming wedding, it's not about...is Matt a good man, can they see him more, what needs to be done. He could care less about anything, he doesn't ask what Matt does for a living..ANYTHING! All he talks about are getting his things back, like this computer for example. He's thrown big fits about getting it back, though he said I'd get a new one for graduation. I said...yeah okay...but we both knew he wasn't going to. We've gone from..."oh yeah we are going to go out and get you a new computer." To "She's stealing my computer, I bet she's going to sell her piano." It's pathetic. It tears me apart that he doesn't really care about anything...just his stuff!!!! I know, it's the usual...he's right and technically he is about his stupid clean dryer. It just kills me that I would do anything for anybody and he is such an ass. Where does he come from? Maybe he isn't really my dad like he says ALL the time.
He has SOOO much stuff their house is a dump, people are not permitted over. I am getting married and nobody can set foot in their house. I am moving home and I have to make sure all my shiz that I may need help with is complete before I go back there, cause once in...that's it. He filled his carport with old stuff...built a shed to hold stuff and recently bought ANOTHER shed. There is so much stuff the weather outside is destoying it. He has over 30 copies of the same chair from the place he USED to work...cause his father worked their. His life is lived through his stuff...it's just a shame I am not included in it. They don't take pictures of us, they don't hang pictures, they don't buy pictures. They don't save our stuff. We are not antiques we are not old and important. All his stuff and memories are of people done and gone. Maybe that's why I was suicidal so many years. You have to die first to get anywhere.
His obsession with stuff seriously pisses me off. Went from a happy party to bawling myself into a painful mess. I don't know where I'm going to sleep tonight, my bedroom is a swamp, my matresses are on their sides out of the swamps way. What am I going to do, crash out at my parents??? Every single towel I own in at my parents cause I just left in a hurry before I went on a rampage infront of them. He could care less what I think or feel, so why give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry? At my wedding he will probably cry and do a great first dance but deep down, his heart is in his stuff back home. On the outside he'll put on a good show. He won't miss me, he won't call me, he won't ask how I'm doing, he won't offer to help and he'll never visit me. And it hurts to know this, hurts to live it already. Stuff like the dryer just sets it off. I'm not worth the gas money or long distance phone call. When I do all the work, all the visiting, all the talking...it's slightly resembles a father daughter relationship. He allows me to hug him sometimes and occasionally talks back. Nothing of importance usually but I'll come running anytime I can get it, nomatter what happens before. He does have the right to choose to be a pack rat, I just wish I ranked somewhere.
It's hard to be so upset you can't calm down. I still don't have a good way of dealing with it. Stupid things are out of the question but what is smart is still unknown to me. Maybe I will go get ice cream. There's no way in hell I'll fit my dress in three weeks.