April Showers and Scorching Sunbaths....
This morning I awoke to a body drenched in sweat. Wish I could say that it was a direct result from a streamy, erotic dream, buuuuttttt........ Unfuckingfortunately that was not the case. If any of you are curious to know why it is that I've been so anal of and on as of late, then sit back and fluff your pillow. It's ONE more story.
After fiance' number three moved in, things in our household went awry. I knew that changes would take place when my father remarried, but I wasn't prepared to cope with this adjustment after the birth of a child I felt I couldn't adequately care for. At first, I enjoyed the company of Dana and her 10 year old daughter, Courtney. When I was dog-tired from 2:00 A.M. feedings, needed a shower, or simply wanted a break from parenting , they provided assistance while I tended to my business.
But to an upside there is the everpresent downside.
Dana's background is Southern with a captiol S. Something I've noticed about those backwoods, redneck types. When one family member moves in, the others follow in close proximity. First it started with the weekend visits. Then, it seemed like everytime I spun around twice and uttered Bloodymary, Dana's nephew's were invading my harmonic dwelling.
One strormy afternoon I flung open the front door. It had been one of THOSE days. All I wanted to do was plop my ass down on the the recliner and kick back a sixer of bronsons. Only......
One nephew(we'll call him Bubba), was lounging in the recliner. The other had the couch, with Courtney perched beside him. Watching a movie. Mrs. Congeniality, if my memory does not fail me.And it won't. MY movie. Didn't even okay it with me, just pulled it off the shelf and stuck it in. Then I looked around and saw that 5 of my other films were scattered precariously about; cases bent, to boot. I could feel the color draining from my face.
I marched into the kitchen and found Dana unloading groceries.Something else. After they intruded, we continually making trips to the A&P, what with her daugther continually eating us out of house and home faster then we could keep the cabinets filled.*digressing*
Purposely keeping my tone nonchalant, I casually mentioned that I'd noticed how the boys spent more of their time at our home then their's. She stood up from stocking the bottom cabinets, placed a hand on her hips, gave me a look that would make Satan shiver; replying,"My nephews spend alot of time with me, especially during summer break." Add on where she deliberately left off "Get used to it."
Well, that took the cake. IT was one thing that the wench unjustly accused me of making her uncomfortable whiccchhhh, btw, I'd been busting my ass to welcome her in. But when my castle turns into foster care for the underprivaleged and ignorant, it's time for me to pack up and hit the highway.
And I did just that. I bought an apartment hunter's guide, surfed the web, and scanned the local paper for affordable and SAFE living arrangements. I wanted to avoid roomates like the black plague,( if it be feasable,) but I was willing to rent out a room in a boarding house. Should worse came to worse. Or couch hop, which was the VERY LAST resort.
Then I remembered that when lavenderskies and I were apartment hunting after I graduated, my ex-fiance's mom had informed us about the Quadplex. Once dormrooms at Athen's State...... now low-rent housing for the dumb-founded and destitute. I was given the grand tour, but somehow grand is not the appropriate word for these crackerjack boxes. Yeah, cable was included. Yeah, a bed was too, if one be brave enough to sleep on it. Yeah, ends meet would have been met.
But if you could have seen the people? residing. They were a breed all their own. I've seen carnies that look more trustworthy and kempt. I accidently knocked on the wrong door, thinking it was the office. How sorry I was, oh how sorry. The man?mutant? that answered reeked so intensely it literally made me want to hurl my intrals out right then and there.(Obesity I will tolerate, filthiness I will not.) I was speechless. Why didn't he just offer me the crackpipe?!
I got into my car, floored it, and NEVER looked back. Actually, I confronted my father about the issue at hand and he's like:"Listen, it's senseless to sink money into a place that you'll never call your own. I'll find you a used trailor; you can live there until you marry, or finance a house." That settled it. Within a month he had scouted out and bought the manufactured home that I'm staying in now.
I was beside myself! I'd never had a place all my own! Either I'd shack up with some low-life, live in dorms with quirky flatmates, or SUFFER through extended stays with one parental unit or the other. FINALLY. No screaming children, curfews, or unwanted guests. Mine all mine. And rent free too. Ha.
I busied myself packing soon as I was given the go ahead. And how much shctuph I'd obtained over the three year period I'd lived with the pops! What a compulsive packrat I am.*grins* Bill helped me box things up and EASILY convinced me to pare down considerably. Dad gave me furniture that Dana would have(and I choose my words ever-so-carefully) probably sold her soul to Lucifer himself to be rid of.*wank, wank* (There's a run-in there, but we won't go into it.) *rolls eyes*
On approximately Dec. 31st, 2002 I moved COMPLETELY in.*cheers* What a joyous occassion that was. Um, um. *shakes head in recollection*
Yes,there were some loose ends to be tied. I still needed a driveway and by spring the air should be hooked up, but fuck it. All I wanted was to be the HELL away from redneck rivierra. Technically, I was no more AWAY from hillbilly melrose place it then I am one, but least I didn't have to contend with the three-ringed circus.
Bill and I celebrated. I with wine and he with....well, he was happy. We'll just leave it at that.
5 months later and STILL I'm parking in my Granny's drive. Walking across the(when raining) muddy yard, as more grass needs to be sowed. At night, if I stupidly neglect to leave the outside light running, I run a risk of smacking into a tree or some other nameless obstruction. I tried parking in different ways in different spots. But I soon discovered that they are NOT interchangeble. No, no.
Then came the revenge of the squirrels. These swirly tailed, buck-toothed unruly sorts have cost me two times over in repairs on my worn-out contraption. How, you ask?!What were they UP to?It's like this. They've managed- somehow, someway- to chew my transmission wires in to. Not once, but twice. How does one make them flee?! A shift in the continental plates? A brief ice-age? Poisoning? I've got this thing about inflicting harm onto God's innocents.
Unless...
Nah. Won't work. Don't wanna know what my schemy, tousled brown-head was plotting.
Never mind that some predetor, infested with dark thoughts could be lurking behind a tree.
Had my father have lain gravel and so that I would have parking away from the trees, MAYBE this would not have happened. But no, he'd rather have parts of his anatomy which I'd prefer not to ackknowledge shoved so far up his wife's ass you'd have to surgically remove.
Daddy and I have always shared a special bond. (Any inbreeding jokes and I'll knock you silly.) Now I know I've been a fuck up. Like that time I got arrested FRESH out of high-school. And the time I had been out of college for a year and forged a report card when my father asked for grade reports. And we can't forget the time I GOT preggo.
Honest to goodness, I'm trying to keep my head above water. Alls I need is one swuft push, and I'll be well on my way. It was HIS idea to provide housing for me. I'm appreciative of his kindess and generosity; not looking the gift horse in the mouth. But it's almost as if he threw me into a swimming pool ten feet deep and yelled "tread, damnit!" Left my dumbass high and goddamned dry like that scoundral from up north.
So all I'm really preaching here to my fatherr and to any poor soul willing to listen is that why can't he just finish what he started? That includes installing the air-conditioning. I'd take a scorching 100 degree+ desert over this outfit. Come on cold front, by ALL means.
I can't open windows forever. By mid-summer, that shit isn't gunna fly. And my house is being infested with various bug specie. Pretty soon dirt particles will settle inside and nasty-fy the place so thoroughly that even dusting/vacuuming won't wisk away.
Why can't he see that I'm NOT the one being unreasonable here?!
Gosh-bum, tolerable living conditions are what any sane individual desires.
Never thought I'd see the day where I was uncertain as to where my next meal would come from either. I have too much pride to ask for financial assistance. Even when I'm in a jam. I've toyed with the possibity of marrying 'well.' But why should I cheat myself of the one thing I've waited my whole life through for?! Finding that someone that completes me.
Do not have an aversion to work. 'N factamondo, I would have an established job if I had a reliable vehicle. That's my father's incentive to have mine maintained. Since the birth of Alex, I've been filling odd jobs, but that's pocket money. Not NEAR enough to cover half the necessities or ANY of my wants.
If as the saying goes that things will 'look brighter in the spring', then may the flowers bloom and the leaves sprout abundantly!!
*rubs eyes* Must turn in. Whew! Amazing how vesting can revive one's broken spirit!
Good. Night. Nurse.
~~TheTEARSofff...
aFALLENANGEL~~
After fiance' number three moved in, things in our household went awry. I knew that changes would take place when my father remarried, but I wasn't prepared to cope with this adjustment after the birth of a child I felt I couldn't adequately care for. At first, I enjoyed the company of Dana and her 10 year old daughter, Courtney. When I was dog-tired from 2:00 A.M. feedings, needed a shower, or simply wanted a break from parenting , they provided assistance while I tended to my business.
But to an upside there is the everpresent downside.
Dana's background is Southern with a captiol S. Something I've noticed about those backwoods, redneck types. When one family member moves in, the others follow in close proximity. First it started with the weekend visits. Then, it seemed like everytime I spun around twice and uttered Bloodymary, Dana's nephew's were invading my harmonic dwelling.
One strormy afternoon I flung open the front door. It had been one of THOSE days. All I wanted to do was plop my ass down on the the recliner and kick back a sixer of bronsons. Only......
One nephew(we'll call him Bubba), was lounging in the recliner. The other had the couch, with Courtney perched beside him. Watching a movie. Mrs. Congeniality, if my memory does not fail me.And it won't. MY movie. Didn't even okay it with me, just pulled it off the shelf and stuck it in. Then I looked around and saw that 5 of my other films were scattered precariously about; cases bent, to boot. I could feel the color draining from my face.
I marched into the kitchen and found Dana unloading groceries.Something else. After they intruded, we continually making trips to the A&P, what with her daugther continually eating us out of house and home faster then we could keep the cabinets filled.*digressing*
Purposely keeping my tone nonchalant, I casually mentioned that I'd noticed how the boys spent more of their time at our home then their's. She stood up from stocking the bottom cabinets, placed a hand on her hips, gave me a look that would make Satan shiver; replying,"My nephews spend alot of time with me, especially during summer break." Add on where she deliberately left off "Get used to it."
Well, that took the cake. IT was one thing that the wench unjustly accused me of making her uncomfortable whiccchhhh, btw, I'd been busting my ass to welcome her in. But when my castle turns into foster care for the underprivaleged and ignorant, it's time for me to pack up and hit the highway.
And I did just that. I bought an apartment hunter's guide, surfed the web, and scanned the local paper for affordable and SAFE living arrangements. I wanted to avoid roomates like the black plague,( if it be feasable,) but I was willing to rent out a room in a boarding house. Should worse came to worse. Or couch hop, which was the VERY LAST resort.
Then I remembered that when lavenderskies and I were apartment hunting after I graduated, my ex-fiance's mom had informed us about the Quadplex. Once dormrooms at Athen's State...... now low-rent housing for the dumb-founded and destitute. I was given the grand tour, but somehow grand is not the appropriate word for these crackerjack boxes. Yeah, cable was included. Yeah, a bed was too, if one be brave enough to sleep on it. Yeah, ends meet would have been met.
But if you could have seen the people? residing. They were a breed all their own. I've seen carnies that look more trustworthy and kempt. I accidently knocked on the wrong door, thinking it was the office. How sorry I was, oh how sorry. The man?mutant? that answered reeked so intensely it literally made me want to hurl my intrals out right then and there.(Obesity I will tolerate, filthiness I will not.) I was speechless. Why didn't he just offer me the crackpipe?!
I got into my car, floored it, and NEVER looked back. Actually, I confronted my father about the issue at hand and he's like:"Listen, it's senseless to sink money into a place that you'll never call your own. I'll find you a used trailor; you can live there until you marry, or finance a house." That settled it. Within a month he had scouted out and bought the manufactured home that I'm staying in now.
I was beside myself! I'd never had a place all my own! Either I'd shack up with some low-life, live in dorms with quirky flatmates, or SUFFER through extended stays with one parental unit or the other. FINALLY. No screaming children, curfews, or unwanted guests. Mine all mine. And rent free too. Ha.
I busied myself packing soon as I was given the go ahead. And how much shctuph I'd obtained over the three year period I'd lived with the pops! What a compulsive packrat I am.*grins* Bill helped me box things up and EASILY convinced me to pare down considerably. Dad gave me furniture that Dana would have(and I choose my words ever-so-carefully) probably sold her soul to Lucifer himself to be rid of.*wank, wank* (There's a run-in there, but we won't go into it.) *rolls eyes*
On approximately Dec. 31st, 2002 I moved COMPLETELY in.*cheers* What a joyous occassion that was. Um, um. *shakes head in recollection*
Yes,there were some loose ends to be tied. I still needed a driveway and by spring the air should be hooked up, but fuck it. All I wanted was to be the HELL away from redneck rivierra. Technically, I was no more AWAY from hillbilly melrose place it then I am one, but least I didn't have to contend with the three-ringed circus.
Bill and I celebrated. I with wine and he with....well, he was happy. We'll just leave it at that.
5 months later and STILL I'm parking in my Granny's drive. Walking across the(when raining) muddy yard, as more grass needs to be sowed. At night, if I stupidly neglect to leave the outside light running, I run a risk of smacking into a tree or some other nameless obstruction. I tried parking in different ways in different spots. But I soon discovered that they are NOT interchangeble. No, no.
Then came the revenge of the squirrels. These swirly tailed, buck-toothed unruly sorts have cost me two times over in repairs on my worn-out contraption. How, you ask?!What were they UP to?It's like this. They've managed- somehow, someway- to chew my transmission wires in to. Not once, but twice. How does one make them flee?! A shift in the continental plates? A brief ice-age? Poisoning? I've got this thing about inflicting harm onto God's innocents.
Unless...
Nah. Won't work. Don't wanna know what my schemy, tousled brown-head was plotting.
Never mind that some predetor, infested with dark thoughts could be lurking behind a tree.
Had my father have lain gravel and so that I would have parking away from the trees, MAYBE this would not have happened. But no, he'd rather have parts of his anatomy which I'd prefer not to ackknowledge shoved so far up his wife's ass you'd have to surgically remove.
Daddy and I have always shared a special bond. (Any inbreeding jokes and I'll knock you silly.) Now I know I've been a fuck up. Like that time I got arrested FRESH out of high-school. And the time I had been out of college for a year and forged a report card when my father asked for grade reports. And we can't forget the time I GOT preggo.
Honest to goodness, I'm trying to keep my head above water. Alls I need is one swuft push, and I'll be well on my way. It was HIS idea to provide housing for me. I'm appreciative of his kindess and generosity; not looking the gift horse in the mouth. But it's almost as if he threw me into a swimming pool ten feet deep and yelled "tread, damnit!" Left my dumbass high and goddamned dry like that scoundral from up north.
So all I'm really preaching here to my fatherr and to any poor soul willing to listen is that why can't he just finish what he started? That includes installing the air-conditioning. I'd take a scorching 100 degree+ desert over this outfit. Come on cold front, by ALL means.
I can't open windows forever. By mid-summer, that shit isn't gunna fly. And my house is being infested with various bug specie. Pretty soon dirt particles will settle inside and nasty-fy the place so thoroughly that even dusting/vacuuming won't wisk away.
Why can't he see that I'm NOT the one being unreasonable here?!
Gosh-bum, tolerable living conditions are what any sane individual desires.
Never thought I'd see the day where I was uncertain as to where my next meal would come from either. I have too much pride to ask for financial assistance. Even when I'm in a jam. I've toyed with the possibity of marrying 'well.' But why should I cheat myself of the one thing I've waited my whole life through for?! Finding that someone that completes me.
Do not have an aversion to work. 'N factamondo, I would have an established job if I had a reliable vehicle. That's my father's incentive to have mine maintained. Since the birth of Alex, I've been filling odd jobs, but that's pocket money. Not NEAR enough to cover half the necessities or ANY of my wants.
If as the saying goes that things will 'look brighter in the spring', then may the flowers bloom and the leaves sprout abundantly!!
*rubs eyes* Must turn in. Whew! Amazing how vesting can revive one's broken spirit!
Good. Night. Nurse.
~~TheTEARSofff...
aFALLENANGEL~~