This, That and the Other Thing (Because It's Just Never Over)

Wrong even when I'm right. It's becoming a theme.

Alcohol is kind of expensive, we can all agree on that, right? So why was it so unreasonable to say to Our Bum roommate that he needed to contribute more to the alcohol fund? He'll pull out a dollar and ask for a drink, then make himself another three without asking or paying. That's not exactally fair when we are this freaking broke, so I said something. I made him upset, even the hubby didn't want to look at me. I went upstairs and cried, always the bad guy.

Our Bum ended up disappearing for two days, of course without the courtesy call that we have been begging for years for so we know he hasn't ended up in jail or the hospital, like he has been known to do. He felt disrespected by me, because he assumed that things would be more equal once we were roommates and he wasn't just the bum on our couch. I don't know how equal it's supposed to be when he's only contributing a third of what this place needs to keep running and even that is unreliable. He wasn't doing any of the things he said he would do, like finding a new job that could actually pay the bills. I'm pessimistic, so sue me.

I couldn't help but be worried. We are really, really broke. Our Bum was only able to give us some of the money he owed us by putting his tips from work into the poker machine. I try to bring up a semi-important topic that impacts the likely hood or not of peaceful coexistence and he runs away. What's going to happen when it's something more serious then booze?

Oh, it gets better, much better.

The good news: Something really amazing happened for Our Bum. Like life altering, light at the end of the tunnel, choirs singing amazing. On the one month anniversary of moving into this new apartment, he announces he is getting full custody of his son and is moving out.

The bad news: It leaves us completely screwed when it comes to this apartment. Everything was relying on this, on depending on him and trusting that it would be okay. We can not afford this apartment on our own, and I can't even complain because this is the best thing in the world for him and his son. All I can do about it is cry and feel selfish.

The resolution: Betty is going to be moving in with us once Our Bum finds a new place. Not only is this going to cause rumors based on the events covered in my last post, but I'm going to be living with someone that I really don't know very well. I remember now why I didn't like roommates. It should be interesting to say the least. To go with our three cats, she has a cat, a dog and a Guinea pig that she will be bringing with. Like I said, interesting.

In the meantime: Things happened faster then anyone expected and Our Bum's two year old son is now staying with us. Our place is not set up for kids. Environmentally, mentally, nothing. I can't smoke (weed or cigarettes) in my own living room, I felt banished to my room. I woke up this morning to screaming, crying and laughing, all of which the hubby slept through. Added to this inconvenience is the the fact that it is completely up in the air as to when he will be leaving or whether or not we will see any money from him at all, let alone enough to fill the gap needed to pay rent and bills.

Again, I'm the bad guy. I am bothered that we dropped so low on Our Bum's priority list, courtesy having gone straight out the window. I am irritated that there is a toddler running around dominating my house without having even been asked, only told what was going to happen. I'm sick to my stomach worrying about all the financial difficulties we are facing and it's just so much harder for me then the hubby to believe “it's all going to be alright” or “it'll work out.”

Sadly it doesn't matter. The hubby doesn't agree with me so I basically just feel wrong. I can't complain, he doesn't want to hear it anymore. I'm over reacting. I'm melodramatic. I'm probably just some horrible person who can't put up with a two year old. Shouldn't it matter that I am feeling this way though? Even if I am being a horrible unfair bitch, shouldn't it mean something, anything, that I feel so uncomfortable in my own home?

I know I have been emotional lately. Monday was my shot and with the drama of the last month, it was a roller coaster ride I so wanted to get off of. I'm probably being overly sensitive to things I shouldn't be, but what's so wrong with needing reassurance?

I hate to say it, but it even seems like the hubby doesn't want me as much lately. I miss his arm around me when we are drifting off to sleep. I'm sure this is too much information but when we didn't have a door at the old apartment, he'd reach for me even when someone was snoozing out on the couch (as uncomfortable as it made me) but now... we have a door, we have privacy, and we have only “been together” three or four times in the last month. Maybe I'm over reacting, feeling bad unnecessarily, but I'm feeling it, and that makes it at least partially valid, right?

On top of everything, we have been socially stunted by the weather. It's been freezing and snowing since Sunday and no one really wants to venture out on the roads. Monday night consisted of us, Brat and Betty, because they live within walking distance. Tall is still illusive, Sassy still seemingly not speaking to me, and Hairy keeps coming over but only in hopes of seeing Prissy here, who has been snowed in a few towns over for days. It's snowing even as we speak, so it means another trip on the bus for the hubby, turning a six minute drive into an hour long adventure. Ugh.

I'm home alone and chain smoking, so I think it's time to find something better to do. The drama doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon my dear blog, so I'm sure I'll be back before too long.

To Hell in a Handbasket

Yes, I know, it's been forever. Don't be too mad at me though, it's not all my fault.

First off, if you didn't already gather, we moved. The hubby, Our Bum and I now have a huge apartment and it's awesome. Two bedrooms, one and a half baths, washer and dryer, dishwasher. We really couldn't ask for much more. Moving pretty much sucked though. We got approval on a Wednesday, packing by Thursday, rented the U-Haul on Saturday and had everything out of the old place by Tuesday.

Right in the middle of things, I tweaked my back pretty good and found myself damn near in tears every time I had to bend down to pick something up. We were all tired and sore but we got it done, without a word to Li'l Mama or a dollar to our old Managers. I've been working on unpacking, it hasn't been the funnest task. It truly is a shock that we were able to fit all of this crap into that tiny old apartment, because once you spread everything out here, it's impossible to believe it could have been done.

Settling in, relaxing, readjusting and we were able to have our Thanksgiving celebration the Monday before Thanksgiving. We made a bunch of food, breaking in our new kitchen, and all our friends contributed at least a little to the cause. There were fifteen of us, something that could have never happened in the old apartment. Alcohol was abundant, but it was no biggie because it had already been prearranged that some people would be crashing on our living room floor.

This is where things went sour. Are you sure you want to hear the story? For sure? Really? Alright, you asked for it.

Like I said, there was a lot of alcohol. People started heading home, leaving the current floor dwellers and a few friends who live close. I head up to bed (yes up, it's a townhouse, hehe) because I had one too many drinks and didn't want to end up spinning. Everyone was left in the living room. Everyone being: Tall, Sassy, their buddy (all prearranged to sleep there) Our Bum, as well as two of the waitresses from the hubby's work.

As for the waitresses... I need to come up with names for them, I've already mentioned one several times and the other is sure to be mentioned quite a bit from here on out considering she is our new neighbor. I think we'll call the one I have already spoken of Brat, military reference, not personality reference and the other we'll call... Betty, an old biddy name to represent a wisdom beyond her years and experience.

Anyway, back to the story. Here, I'll add a few side notes to help the understanding of some of these people's mindsets. Our Bum had a thing with Brat, then didn't want anything to do with her. Our Bum then decided he likes Betty, really pissing off Brat. Our Bum had used Betty to make Brat jealous, Betty didn't know this. As far as everyone else, the hubby was drunk, no denying that. Tall was pretty far gone and Sassy hadn't been feeling good all night so she was going back and forth between happy, moody and asleep, and their friend was half passed out, half rolling on the floor mumbling.

Remember this is all stuff I found out after the fact, all of the stories match up and I believe that it did all happen this way.

Sassy woke up, went out on the patio for fresh air. Our Bum laid down on the floor so Betty could pop his back (this is a common occurance, she has done the same thing for the hubby and several others.) Betty bent over, right in front of the hubby, and he goosed her. Sassy freaked.

The next morning before Our Bum, the hubby and I woke up, Tall, Sassy, their buddy and Brat all left. (Making quite a racket with the front door, waking me up unapologetically.) Brat, by the way, was not supposed to be spending the night. Not only had she crashed on our couch the night before, but she only lives two blocks away. How drunk do you have to be to not be able to make it two blocks?

Sorry, sidetracked. After that, Sassy's MySpace status was confusing. “Why did she have to see what she saw,” kind of bullshit. I had no clue, I thought maybe Tall did something, or the buddy that had gotten drunker then she had ever seen him. Coworkers started approaching the hubby at work, asking weird questions about Betty stealing Brat's boyfriend and a couple of other odd things.

This all happened Monday night, Wednesday evening, I get a message (a MySpace message even) from Sassy. She needed to talk to me, it was real important and she didn't want the hubby to know. Whatever it was, was a really big deal, she didn't know whether to say anything and it was turning her stomach just to think about it. Needless to say, I kind of got freaked out. At this point, I still assumed that it had to do with Tall or something, no clue. I sent her a message back, waited for quite some time for a response and nothing. I texted her, no answer. I called her, no answer. I texted Tall, he said he was pretty sure she didn't have her phone on her.

Hours go by while I let this sit in the pit of my stomach with not so much as a peep out of anyone, so of course when the hubby got home, I told him about it. He had no clue what it could possibly be about but it started freaking him out too. No response all night, nor the next morning and still no one could be bothered to answer their phone.

The hubby, knowing how bad this was getting to me, called Tall from a pay phone at work, the only way we could get him to answer thanks to the modern miracle of caller ID. He told him what this was doing to me and that he needed to know what it was all about.

“____ saw you grab ____'s ass.”

Oh, that! That's what this is all about? Are you kidding me? The hubby told Tall to let him tell me what was going on, knowing that Sassy would only make it worse. Sassy took that as she was being sworn to silence. Tall said he wanted to stay out of it until it all (whatever “it all” is) blew over.

Thanksgiving Thursday I finally get a message back from Sassy. She'd been asked to stay quiet. It was heart wrenching and she knew how I felt. There was nothing she could do now, the ball was rolling, I'd know soon enough. Considering I still had no clue what was going on, this only freaked me out more. I asked her how she could talk to me this way and it be at all fair? If she had something to say, say it. She wouldn't say it. I texted the hubby. He knew what was going on now, but didn't want to try texting it, he said he'd tell me when he got home. Brat knew about it too.

Freaked out and frustrated, I was near tears, and the topper on the cake was that my mom was on her way to come pick me up, great. My mom showed and we headed down to the hubby's work for dinner. He still didn't want to tell me, feeling weird about saying any of it in front of my mom. He said he'd tell me when he got home.

I have to say, knowing what I know now, all the procrastinating only made things worse. My stomach hurt, my head hurt. Somebody should have just said it.

The hubby got home a while after I had gotten home from dinner and we headed upstairs to talk. He told me. Blink. Are you kidding me? They put me through hell for that? My hubby goosed a friend and coworker, oh dear god it's the end of the world. Oh wait, SO? If I got upset, every time the hubby goosed a friend and/or coworker, playfully, harmlessly, then I wouldn't have much of a marriage, would I? Hell, he has goosed Our Bum more times then I can count this week.

We had conversations about this type of thing, even about Betty specifically. I am not threatened. There is a difference between uncomfortable and threatened and I am certainly not threatened. To be honest, the last time I actually felt my relationship threatened that way was like eight years ago in the early days of dating. I'm uncomfortable with him being close to any girls, but I'm also not psycho, I get that he has no interest in anyone but me and I'm not going to fabricate problems where there is none.

I sent Sassy a letter back saying I knew what had happened and it wasn't that big of a deal. I told her that I was disappointed in her lack of faith in the hubby and I, with all the conversations we have had over the years. I told her she should have come to one of us if she was so uncomfortable, so we could have told her that it was no big deal and we are perfectly fine. She assumed the worst and didn't give anyone the chance to convince her of any different.

It took her a day to respond, and when she did, I can't say it helped any. She assumed the hubby had lied to me or not told me the whole story because of my deflated reaction. Without actually saying the words, she basically called me a forgiving fool and the hubby an asshole for hurting me this way.

The messages kept going back and forth this way, her not believing everything is okay, yet still not telling me what was so horrible to make her assume the worse. I told her she was throwing our friendship away because I wasn't responding the way she wanted me to. I told her that I was an adult in an adult relationship and I am handling it like an adult, which means not throwing my marriage away over something as trivial as what it was.

Tall and Sassy apparently thought we were going to break up, shows a lot of faith, doesn't it? The best part is, with all this going on, neither of them could be bothered to actually be our friends, let alone some of the best friends we have. What if something serious really had been going on? Neither of them would answer their phones, calling or texting. Three years of history with Tall, two years of history with Sassy, and neither could just be our damn friend. Nah, it looks rocky, we're just going to sit back and wait for it to blow over.

My computer ended up crashing in the middle of all this. After a couple days I was able to use Prissy's cell phone to check my MySpace. Two letters from Sassy. The first, more of the same, I must not know the whole story, blah, blah, blah. The second apologizing for the first sounding so harsh but she's still right and I'm still wrong. I sent her a short message saying that my computer crashed so if she actually wanted to talk to me, she had to call. She never called.

People all over the hubby's work knew what had happened, plus about a few things that didn't. Brat was the obvious spreader of these rumors, though she denies it. It even made it beyond the hubby's work, a friend who used to work there and had left Monday night before anything happened, knew the whole story and there is only one place it could have come from. The twisted thing is, Brat actually told Sassy not to make such a big deal of it, but then she turned around and did the exact same thing, plus added a little drama of her own. (Claiming Betty stole her boyfriend, even though he never was her boyfriend, and that Betty was all over him, whatever.)

It took days of nothing from the people involved before the hubby walked down to the gas station near by and called Tall. He didn't answer, but he did call back on the home phone. The hubby told him everything that was going on, or more so the lack of it. The hubby told him he was offended, years dude, what if we really needed a friend. The hubby actually went to see Tall at work and they talked for like an hour and a half. Tall didn't know half of what Sassy had been saying online.

We went one Monday, where we only invited those who didn't create or add to any of the drama. It was a quiet night and it was pretty nice but it was sad that half our group wasn't there. This Monday we told people it was back on and most people showed, including Tall, Sassy and Brat. No drama really. Tall is perfectly fine. Sassy showed up in a bad mood and really didn't socialize and Brat and I had exchanged a few messages talking about not taking advantage of our hospitality and what not so things were decent there. I have the feeling things will never be the same though.

New drama. Our Bum and Betty. It's probably none of our business but at the same time it is. She turned him down, yet they keep getting closer. It makes the hubby and I uncomfortable. She's our neighbor and friend. If and when things went sour between them, that affects us. She's young and the hubby was actually asked years ago to look after her. He may not be a big brother, but he sure knows how to fit into that role. Think of the long term. We could be neighbors for quite some time, and the hubby works with her daily for goodness sakes. Shouldn't that be taken into account?

Anyway, enough of the drama, I have other things to worry about. I still have to figure out what to do about my computer. Hairy is who usually fixes it but he left his Windows disk in Washington and isn't planning on going to get them for a couple months. I'm currently running off a Linux disk that without installing it, can't be used for much other then surfing the internet, and as far as installing it, I think my hard drive might be shot so that narrows my options a little. New hard drive? What if the motherboard is shot too? New computer? That's awfully expensive considering we just moved and dropped nearly every dollar we had on the deposit. I don't think Santa is going to be quite nice enough to help me with this problem.

Anyway, this post is like the equivalent of six pages and there are other people in the room so I had better go. I'll try not to let it be so long before I make it back again.

Wow.

The world, it is a changing.

I defrosted the fridge for the last time yesterday.

This morning, I quite possibly took my last shower without a bathtub.

The countdown has begun to finally leave the bad juju of Li'l Mama behind.

We got the apartment.

Tuesday we looked at it, loved it, filled out the paperwork.

Wednesday we received a call saying we had been approved.

Thursday I am packing.

Friday we are signing the lease.

Saturday and Sunday, we are moving.

Monday night, housewarming Monday.

If only you could feel the pounding in my chest, the heaviness in my stomach. We haven't moved in over seven years, and we have a LOT of crap to pack and I don't even know where to start.

Despite all that, it's happening. We're moving. We are taking that next big step in our lives and getting the hell outta dodge. Not much more then "wow" describes what's going on.

Everyone is so happy for us. Prissy almost can't contain herself because of the happy thought of never having to come to this building (with all it's drama and history) to visit us again, she's bringing boxes for us tonight. So many other people have also offered to help. It looks like my mom will be renting the U-Haul for us, which is a nice perk, and Tall might not go away for the weekend just so he can help, also awesome. The hubby got the weekend off (paid vacation days) so hopefully this will be an efficient move with all of us pitching in.

After this weekend I'll be without the internet until Tuesday, the price of moving the service but I'm sure my blog will survive without me, it always has. I'll have plenty of pictures of the new place to put on my public blog, what it looks like bare and then filled with all of our secondhand crap, should be interesting, huh?

Our Monday nighters will be pleased, the place is huge compared to this one, at least double. Our apartment now is probably smaller then just the downstairs of the new place. Like I said, big changes.

Today and tomorrow will be the last time I have to pay to do a load of laundry or do the dishes by hand because there is a washer, dryer and a dishwasher. It will be the last time I have to sit in line to wait for the bathroom because there will be two of them. It will be the last time we have to fight for hot water because the water heater here was never meant to service six apartments and several businesses. I'll never again have to lug groceries up our over two dozen stairs, or fight for a parking spot or listen to another bar fight. (Halloween night, a really decent guy was killed in a fight right outside our bar next door, it's a sad hit to reality to know something like that happened so close.)

It's a new adventure, this whole moving thing. We went years without so much of a hint of progress and then all of a sudden everything is happening at once. It's a rush. It's scary. But there's no doubt about it, it's happening.

If I don't manage to keep you updated before we loose internet for a few days, I'll have a nice big juicy post for when I get back online. Sounds fair, right? I just want to say thank you to my dear blog and my even more dear doppelganger for your support, I can sure use it right now and you know how to deliver, so again, thanks.

Patience is a virtue...

...that for me, will be thoroughly be tested over the next few days.

We saw the apartment today. THE apartment. The one we have dreamed about, the one we have called about for almost a year, the one that has everything on our list. A two bedroom townhouse, one and a half baths, huge closets (as in plural, more then one, ) a dishwasher, a washer and dryer, an enclosed back patio. One sad note. They raised the rent. Instead of fifty dollars a month more then we are paying now, it's two hundred dollars more a month. There's a price for perfection.

The hubby says we should still do it, if we get accepted, find a way to make it happen and just do it. This could be THE opportunity and we could only blame ourselves if we pass it up. There was no application fee.

We filled one out.

We should know by Thursday.

I don't want to jinx it, but we could be in before Thanksgiving.

My stomach hurts.

I don't want to get my hopes up, and even if we are accepted, there is still the struggle of affording it. I've already promised to apply for a job at the little market down the block from this new place if we get it. Our Bum plans on getting a new job. After we move, the hubby plans on getting a new job. It will work, right? Is this pit sitting in the base of my stomach nerves or dread?

Prissy is learning to read Tarot cards, I wonder if a reading would reveal the financial future that could possibly drive us into ruin. I'm being pessimistic, I know, this isn't a new trait.

I want to dream. I want to picture where to put the couch opposite the television so the hubby and I can reclaim the most comfortable seats in the house. I want to imagine the back patio with the barbeque and some chairs and a table and a bunch of friends on a Monday night. I want to believe in a future that doesn't involve defrosting the fridge once every week and a half, or where the toilet doesn't run at random times all day and night. I like the idea of actually being able to take a fucking bath because I haven't had a bathtub in over seven years.

But, I'm scared. Scared that we'll get rejected, and if not rejected that we won't be able to afford it at some point. Ugh. Mixed blessings. I can't wait to be excited. Maybe I can relax a little after Thursday.

Cross your fingers, say your prayers, send check or money order to... yeah, whatever, just wish us luck.

Ooooo, juicy P.S.: You know how Li'l Mama keeps complaining about the smell of smoke in her apartment? Ha! Maybe she should quit smoking then. Looks like my suspicions were true and she's trying to hide that dirty little secret from her baby-daddy. Hehe. It made my day to find that one out.

Keeping Up a Front

First off: Will someone please tell me how Facebook is supposed to have less drama then MySpace? I signed up for a Facebook account today and could you believe my surprise at one of the first people it recommends for me? Drama personified: Li'l Mama. Ugh. It's funny though, her MySpace is private but her Facebook isn't. I only started the account because Prissy is fed up with the MySpace drama and said she will be deleting her account. She said Facebook "feels good" but I really don't see much of a difference. Drama without the bells and whistles?

On the gossip front, Prissy almost fills my quota when she stops by. I love it. I like knowing what's going on in people's lives, so sue me. I haven't watched a soap opera in seven months so pop up the pop corn and tell me what you got. What her info sums up to I think is despite Hairy's new girlfriend, Prissy and Hairy are not quite over yet. I think everything will change when Hairy finishes school here in the next couple months. It has always been his top priority so let's see what happens when his priorities change.

On the houseguest front, though a little more alone time with the hubby would be nice (he works a similar schedule to the hubby) I thank him every day for not being Ketchup. He politely asks about things that should be implied but he doesn't want to be rude (i.e. taking a shower, borrowing a towel, getting a glass of water, etc.) Not only does he do it himself, but he makes sure others are sitting up if they are smoking a cigarette on my couch or not using a coaster on the coffee table. Refreshing.

On the Ketchup front, his new roommates keep complaining about him. I can't help but smile. Bad me. He doesn't contribute anything. Ha. He never leaves. Ha. He doesn't DO anything but sleep. Ha. After tomorrow (payday) we might actually be able to tell him why he has the feeling we kicked him out. Ha.

On the apartment search front, no progress. Monday or Tuesday we will make some calls, ask me about it then.

On the Tall and Sassy front, they are together, they aren't together, who knows today let alone tomorrow. What it's all added up to is that he's being an ass, who knows why. On top of saying some shockingly hurtful things, he can't seem to muster any empathy for Sassy, the woman he's supposed to love. It's almost like he's suddenly turned to teasing her when she's upset rather then having any concern for why she's upset in the first place. Communication is obviously their biggest problem. She tends to fight with him like she fights with her mother. More then a little condescending and loud, very loud. Him on the other hand, when he's not making flippant comments, he just shuts down. How can that translate into a lasting healthy relationship? It can't, which is why they are again having problems. Sassy's been hanging out a lot, quite a bit without the company of Tall. I don't mind.

On the hubby front, Sunday was his birthday so last week I let him go to the midnight release and buy (full price mind you, a big step for me especially considering our desperate lack of funds) Fable 2 for the XBox 360. He loves it. I love it. It's a great game and the hubby spent his birthday doing exactly what he wanted, playing.

Connecting back to the Tall and Sassy front, the hubby's birthday has actually been an issue. Tall has been to probably a dozen birthday parties this month for all his work buddies (who have become ever so important) but repeatedly kept forgetting about the hubby's birthday (who after three years instead of six months of friendship like his new buddies, you'd think it wouldn't be so difficult to retain.) He managed to stop by for a short time on the hubby's special day, but then had to leave... because he had made other plans... doing... "stuff." Yeah. Sassy was more pissed then we were (it wasn't exactly new to us that he'd choose his new buddies over us, or only coming over because his original plans fell through) but I don't blame her for it. It wasn't a complete loss. With Tall being a butthead, the hubby didn't want him around on his birthday anyway, heh.

On the Halloween front, we don't have plans. The hubby has to work, probably until about ten at night, plus it's been years since I bothered to put effort into a costume. A couple years back, I wore the dress I got married in and called myself a hippie, and a couple years before that I wore my old prom dress and basically just went goth, thank you Hot Topic. I typically just curl my hair or something, make an effort to look a little different and call it good. Maybe it's lazy, but then again, I'm lazy. We got invited to a party down the hall, thrown by Hairy's roommate. We most likely won't go, but it should be interesting to say the least. Either Li'l Mama is going to throw a hissy fit over the noise, or get shit faced and cause a whole different kind of trouble. I kind of think the hubby and I should just sit back, relax and debate calling in a few dozen MIP's to the cops, hehe. I wonder if they could beat the record this building set back in June while we were in California. There's always hope I guess.

On the me front, ugh. I can't sleep, but at the same time it feels like that's all I ever do. I keep waking up after four hours and have to spend the next four hours trying not to wake the hubby or Our Bum. I've been taking a nap in the afternoon and even that sucks. It takes me forever to fall asleep and then I wake up later then intended and have slept the day away. I need to eat more, I know it would help. One meal a day is not enough, I get it. Not only have I trained my body to just not be hungry over the last couple years, but I get so psyched out about my teeth (mad issues I tell you, unreasonable, i.e. phobia) that it makes eating anything a challenge. Ain't I neurotic as hell? Yeah, it's fun.

On the blog front... I'm done with this post, heh.

Long Story Short

(Because I simply don't have the time.)

Yes we looked at an apartment. Two bedroom, one bath, a total of six closets, dishwasher and even a thirty year old washer/dryer combo. Did we take it? No. Wanna know why? Our satellite. The owner had no intension of letting a dish be mounted to the roof and in doing a little research, it would be ridiculous expensive to try and switch to the only cable provider in this area. Not including the two-hundred dollar installation fee, and after the initial discounts, it's about eighty dollars more a month to switch, with virtually no real difference to compensate for the increase. You see the dilemma?

So yeah, the apartment hunt is still on. But on a brighter note, Ketchup is still gone. Our Bum is so much more manageable, polite and respectful. (It helps that he think's I'm special, hehe.)

Our social lives have basically boomed. People come over every night instead of just Monday night, and standing room only is becoming more and more common. Tall even took up residence on our floor last night verses the half hour drive home at three-thirty in the morning. Good thing we don't mind.

Gotta go now, people keep calling and want to come over so it's time to play the lovely host. See ya later blog!

He Said, She Said, They Said

Talking shit. Not just something that shouldn't have been said, but flat out lies.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

On Monday, the hubby talked to another friend from work, about a possible option. She could use the financial help, and we could use the emotional help. We even warned her about the worst of the worst, and she still agreed.

On Tuesday, the hubby loaded up his car and drove Ketchup over to her apartment and dropped him off. If it seems simple, it wasn't, especially because it's not over. So far, it was way too casual.

Monday night: "Hey ____, want to come move in with me? I've already talked it over with ____." Blink. She wasn't supposed to say anything yet. Oh well, it's out there. "Sure" he mumbles in return. Somehow I am not yet relieved. We head to the bar. The hubby says "so you're cool with moving in with ____? You can help her out and ____ can come move in with us and help us out." Again, too casual.

Everyone, including Ketchup is too cool with this. It feels like nothing is resolved. I had to go home. I was emotional and couldn't hide it. I invited Sassy over (too young to be at the bar with us) and vented, cried. It was my turn to be overly emotional, and her turn to listen.

Later, the hubby and the bar crew made it back to the apartment. The hubby was not happy that I had left and in turn had a total of five drinks. Seven months of fighting over Ketchup and I was done. "So when are you moving in ____?" She asks. "Oh I can't move anything at the moment." He responded clutching his broken ribs. Blink. Oh, no, no, no. I ain't waiting until the doctor gives him a clean bill of health to get his ass out of here. I looked at the hubby. The hubby looked at Our Bum.

Tuesday morning: "So how about we load up the car and run you over to ____'s place?" Our Bum was even happy to help, seeing as the couch would soon be his. In the course of packing, Ketchup sat down half a dozen times. We'd all exchange looks when this happened, each thinking the same thing, "you're not friggin' done yet, bastard." The hubby kept an eye on him, making sure he didn't take anything that wasn't his, games and whatnot. When he assumed he was done, the hubby and Our Bum carried all of his shit down to the car and off they went.

While they were gone, I cleaned. I vacuumed and rearranged since we had the area in our room back that had been home to a mountain of Ketchup's every possession for the last seven months. When the hubby returned home, it was quiet and all smiles. We were free. "Did you ask him about still giving us money?" "We kind of just dropped him off and ran." We'll figure it out.

Since then: No waking up every morning to Ketchup coughing on weed he has no intension of sharing. Our Bum actually offers me the controller when he's playing the XBox. He says please and thank you. He listens to what I say and respects me. He even pulls out the television himself to reset it when it craps out. The best part? Our Bum actually leaves the house. He not only has a job (that's not graveyard,) but he actually has a life. Friends, things to do, places to be. This is the second day I have been alone for hours, and while I'm slightly lonely (for anyone but Ketchup that is) it's been real nice to actually accomplish things like the dishes and cleaning the bathroom.

Today was payday, and while Ketchup has agreed to give us money, the hubby is being a bit too nice about it. "It's okay if it's not the full amount... maybe this much and we'll call it even on the games we went half on together... or maybe this much this time and that much next time..." We are broke, so much so I choose to pay the electric bill late verses sending my bank account into overdraw. With the hubby's work cutting so many hours, his paycheck isn't enough. We need that money from Ketchup, and he owes us still for the month he lived here for free.

If you ask me, he has no right to the games that he went half on. Going half on those games only partially makes up for the fact that he didn't contribute to the XBox or the television itself, even though he used both more then me or the hubby combined. How about all of the other bullshit we had to put up with? The lack of courtsy, the complete disrespect, the stupidity of just not thinking or caring about anything, and the topper on the cake, the shit talk. Unfortunately this is something we can't say to him until after he gives us the money, otherwise we will never see a cent.

The hubby has assured me, that after we get our money from him, we will be letting Ketchup in on our displeasure. I don't want the hubby to loose the friendship, but I need the validation of him knowing what he did wrong. Is that wrong? Is it selfish to want to inform him just how much he has taken advantage of us? That we know he's been talking shit? That he had better not do the same thing to his current supplier of housing who happens to be a good friend of ours.

That's it for now, I have to go respond to a MySpace message from Sassy, she's having trouble with Tall again, though it really seems more his fault then her's this time. Boys suck sometimes.

P.S. Here's a hint about my next post: We looked at an apartment last night.

I Don't Need Another Fucking Sign

No, no one else died.

Yet. (Please forgive the following post. Not only am I pissed, sad and confused, I've had quite a bit to drink on an empty stomach.)

Let's start at the beginning of our little roller coaster ride.

Seven months ago we let a friend stay on our couch.

Want to know the in between? Read my archives for anything referencing Ketchup. 'Nuff said.

Fast forward to Friday morning. Ketchup sets off the fire extinguishing system at the restaurant, slips trying to clean it up, is sent to the hospital and it turns out he has broken two ribs. This is the third fall this week, on the same ribs. I have no sympathy. So great, he's out of work for the week, in my hair, annoying me to no end.

Guess what, this isn't even the best part.

I'm so consumed about the newest thing that I can't even think of all the things I wanted to vent about yesterday, or even a couple hours ago. Things like him inviting friends over and again not telling us when the television crapped out. They hardly seem important at the moment.

Get this: He's talking shit about us.

This server that the hubby works with was texting a lot this evening, like a lot, about pointless shit and really I was starting to get annoyed that this girl was texting my hubby so much. As I was about to say something to him about it, he shows me a couple texts that she had just sent. Not wanting to cause any drama or any sort of blow up, but she thought we might want to know. She had suggested while out the other night, that she and her friends (also servers at the hubby's work) stop by our place and say hi.

Oh, no no... can't do that... they hate us all.

What?

After a bit of coaxing, she admitted that she knew of some texts exchanged, between Ketchup and these other servers. He's saying we hate them, apparently. Who knows what else. The hubby has known them for years, I barely know them at all. How was this conclusion made?

To be honest, I couldn't stop crying while we were finding this out. I immersed myself in doing the dishes through tears as the hubby texted, finding out this information, being told we should watch what we say and do in front of him.

My dear doppelganger, or Uncle Chuck if you visit any time soon, or anyone else browsing my blog for any various reason, do you have any advice? It's been proven that the hubby and I are quite opposed to confrontation, is there a subtle way to handle this situation? Is the only the answer the big fucking boot in the ass? What do we do? What do we say? The hubby has been friends with Ketchup since fifth grade. Best friends even. I have known him for something along the lines of eight years. Is there a graceful way to end this situation or does it have to end in drama?

Help me please.

Anything that would inspire confidence would be nice, because at the moment I just want to curl up under the blanket with another drink and just wait for tomorrow to come, as if it would make a difference.

I'm done now. Give me more alcohol.

Another Sign

More sad news.

Last night we had been talking about our landlord and Our Bum stated, "I still can't believe that lady died too, the one from the restaurant."

My heart stopped.

My Nightingale.

There's apparently a sign hanging in the diner next door, saying "In Memory of..."

It happened a couple weeks ago.

Again, no one thought to tell us.

The most mother-like boss, a wonderful friend, an advice giver, a cat healer, a beautiful singer, a beautiful person, a rock, a confidant.

Another funeral we didn't get to pay our respects at.

Another part of our lives we didn't get to say goodbye to.

All I can say is we now have the best guardian angel in existence watching over us, smiling bright and singing a Hawaiian or Broadway tune to the god she loved so much.

You can sing again, so sing for me my Nightingale.

We will miss you.

A Sign

Sad news.

My landlord passed away yesterday.

I've known the man for the past sixteen years, over half my life.

No one had to courtesy to call us.

Prissy found out and today said "you know he died yesterday, right?"

I called my mom immediately and let her know.

She said at least he is with his wife again.

I think it's a sign.

Besides Hairy, we have no more loyalty to this building anymore.

I think it's time to say goodbye, in more ways then one.

Worse Than a Hacking Cough

So I'm sick. Coughing, sneezing, aching. Not in a good mood. Ketchup is rubbing me the wrong way.

Yesterday, he woke me up twice because for some reason the guy thinks he needs to try and turn the pipe inside out when he takes a hit.

Later I was going around the house getting garbage together (trying to feel at least a little useful while being sick) and find the XBox game case unzipped, open and upside down on the floor, games starting to fall out. I told him quite plainly that if he can't close the case, don't change the game. He mumbled a response and I moved on.

I went into the bathroom to grab the garbage in there (I hadn't a few minutes earlier because Ketchup had been in the shower) and found the laundry basket for dirty towels sitting in the middle of the room, the top towel soaking wet. I came back into the living room and asked him if he dried off the floor with a towel after his shower. (It's just a shower, no tub, so water of course gets everywhere.) He said yeah. I asked why, when there is a squeegee right there for that purpose. If the towels in that basket are soaked, they don't dry and we get mold and mildew. After saying all this (stuff we have told him before of course) and him looking at me like I was speaking Chinese, he stood up and left for work, almost a half hour earlier then usual.

I finally migrate from the bedroom to the living room after he left, only to find the television not working. Well shit, that explains why he sat all day in a dark living room with only the glow of his phone to keep him company. What I can't believe though, is that he didn't bother to say a word about the television, to me or the hubby. He knew. You know he tried to turn on the TV at one point, that is if it didn't shut down while he was playing XBox that morning. Fucker.

The best part about yesterday (this line is dripping with sarcasm) is probably the fact that Ketchup decided to take his weed and pipe to work with him. The hubby got him that job. Ketchup is there on the hubby's recommendation, he should be representing him accordingly, wouldn't you think? The hubby has already apologized for Ketchup's behavior to the boss more then once. Suppose an apology will be enough if Ketchup gets caught smoking drugs at work? Highly doubtful. Not only does Ketchup have several warrants from a state that has absolutely no problem with extraditing, but this is extremely pungent smelling weed. Apparently the risk is worth the reward in his mind.

Not to be stereotypical but Ketchup is Mexican. In his first year driving he was pulled over roughly twenty times basically just for this fact. Right after moving in with us, he was actually stopped by the cops while walking down the street, for looking "suspicious." So why would a guy like this so bluntly do something illegal out in public? No fucking clue. All I know is that if he ever gets picked up, the hubby and I know nothing. Absolutely freaking nothing. Let him hang.

I can't wait to be done.

Hope

You know those little rubber bracelets commemorating every cause on the planet? I found one I had bought a while back that simply says "hope." I put it on. I wonder if it might actually be working.

I haven't been around much lately because all of a sudden we have people over every night. Even as I type, the hubby, Tall and Our Bum sit here and play the game Facebreaker on the Xbox 360. (Sassy was here but she couldn't stay awake.) Apparently the summer resources have run out because suddenly our place is "the" place to be. I'm not complaining, except for when they forget about us again anyway. I enjoy playing hostess and I know the hubby loves cooking for a house full of people so all and all it's been a good thing.

On the topic of moving, we may have made a minor little bit of progress. We've asked someone to be a roommate, and guess what, it's not Ketchup. Our Bum, in light of his recent split with Poor Me, has become available and hopefully after twenty-eight years and two kids he has become responsible enough to depend on. He is the type to flake, but really only when no one is depending on him. I think he can take the situation seriously if we needed him to.

We haven't told Ketchup yet. We aren't kicking him out. We have talked it over with Our Bum (who I might just have to change the name of if he actually starts paying rent) and he is okay with Ketchup riding the couch a bit longer. I don't want to be the person who kicks the guy out right before the holiday season, however by the first of the year (ultimatum time) he needs to have a solid plan as to what he plans on doing, getting up and getting out.

Ketchup mentioned wanting to get a hotel room for Christmas and drinking himself stupid. I can't condone that. I can't sit here and be in the holiday spirit knowing he was doing that. I told him he will get into the Christmas spirit or be damned, he will not bring me down, there are too many other things waiting in the wings to do that in this oh so cherished time of year.

Want to know something funny? Li'l Mama left a card on the door the other day. (I have my doubts as to whether or not anyone else in the building got one, this plays into effect for our response to this situation.) It said that her one year old daughter had an allergy to cigarette smoke and because of the horrible stench, she was propping the hallway door open despite the sign we posted years ago asking people to leave it closed due to bugs. (Our door is right by the hallway door, hence every time we open it when the hallway door is open, abundant flies get sucked in, driving me thoroughly nuts, which she knows. Li'l Mama however has a fire door halfway down the hall that leads into her bedroom, not the baby's, a door that is never used and we personally installed the threshold and weather stripping to seal it.) Not only has no one EVER smelled cigarette smoke in the hallway (our guests at least, know better dammit) but I have several other guesses as to what the kid could be allergic to (if the story claims true that is.) How about the two cats that the baby's daddy is horribly allergic to? How about the mold around every window in every apartment? How about the few dozen allergens she lets in by leaving her front door open for hours at a time, especially considering the deck right outside her door is a common smoking area for everyone in the building? Or hell, a billion other things a kid could be irritated by. Our front door is in the kitchen, no one ever smokes in the kitchen and there is a curtain dividing it from the living room. Our kitchen never smells like smoke. No one else in the building (as far as I know) smoke inside. I tell ya, when I read that semi-polite/half insulting card, I couldn't help and smirk and say "well shit, she's starting early this year." We've been closing the hallway door every time we see it propped open. If we didn't, by the time the temperature started dropping outside, it would start dropping in our kitchen as well. I won't be paying a higher heating bill because she decided to get uppity, again.

We had better get out of this place before Christmas, that's when she tends to go nuclear. Do you realize how many people's lives would be easier if we moved out of this building? Tall, Sassy and Prissy would no longer have to worry about passing Li'l Mama's dreaded door. Hairy just might leave the building more often, (he needs Li'l Mama away time whether he knows it or not.) Our Monday nights might shift from bar night to home party night (if our future living room is big enough anyway. Not only would it be cheaper for everyone involved, but with no bar next door we'd still be able to drink to our heart's content, which has been a lot lately.)

I looked up a bunch of apartments today so in the following week the hubby and I will be making calls and debating. With the commitment of a roommate, we can afford that hundred dollars more that has made our options so slim in the past. Hopefully with both Ketchup and Our Bum contributing, we can really start saving, especially if I get a little part time job myself, something I have been hesitant of considering I have to keep it within walking distance.

I'm on my... fifth or sixth drink now. The hubby, Tall and Our Bum are still playing Facebreakers. Maybe if I stop ignoring them for the sake of the computer they will switch games. Sorry blog, that's all you get for now. Bye!

Spiraling Downward While Sitting Still

I'm not sure what else Ketchup can do to drive me batty, but then again, just saying that makes me feel I have jinxed it and he's bound to find something new.

Tell him something, and it's either pure ignorance or "ha ha, my bad." Get pissed off, it won't matter. Sigh, it will go unheard. Cry, it will go unseen.

The other morning the hubby and I woke up to the King of the Hill theme song blaring through our stereo and Ketchup and Our Bum involved in a full volume conversation. This wasn't the first time that morning they had woken me up in some fashion or another, but it was the first the stirred the hubby from his deep slumber. (It wasn't really that early, unless you take into account that we had been up until five in the morning.) So I pulled my ass out of bed, stomped the ten feet to the living room and turned it down, leaving again with a simple "you guys suck" before climbing back into bed where the hubby already lay snoring again.

Our Bum promptly left and we haven't seen him since. That's his pattern. He thinks we are mad at him so he disappears, and even though we have told him so many times before that disappearing just makes it worse, he still does it. Yesterday he actually ended up at a friend of our's house. Someone he only met two weeks ago through us, but apparently where he'd rather be then here.

Ketchup has been out of the house the last few hours. He took yet another day off for plans that fell through and in turn did something that he could have easily done while still working an eight hour shift tonight, flirt with a girl who actually does less during the day then he does. Doesn't it sound like a match made in heaven? He'll hook up with a nineteen year old in his free time, but does he try to contact his kids? Pfft. That would take effort. We all knows he doesn't feel the need to put forth effort.

We've actually been debating the fact that we may just have to have a roommate for a little while if we really want to move. Ketchup? What kind of reliability can we expect? He works very few days a week, takes unnecessary days off, doesn't really like the job plus we already know he is an inconsiderate bastard to live with. Our Bum? The only reason he's really kept a job the past two years was his second kid, but now that the relationship with Poor Me has crumbled and the kids have been at least for the time being sent away, what does that mean for his drive? Tall? His insurance company found out about all his tickets and quadrupled his monthly payments. I am guessing he will be living at home with his mom for quite some time.

Oddly enough one of our best prospects seems to be Sassy. Not only does she get guaranteed money in the form of a child support check from her dad, but she has two jobs. Plus she'd probably understand more then some of the boys that we still want it to be our place, we've lived alone for too long to hand over too much control. However I don't know how much I could handle living with a girly girl, especially when she brings over her girly girl friends.

Finding a roommate other then Ketchup raises another question, what do we do with Ketchup? Any potential roommate would have to understand that we wouldn't be kicking him out, that's not the type of people we want to be, but maybe bypassing him will inspire him to get off his ass and actually do something. It's been over six months since he took up residence on our couch and he hasn't accomplished anything that would even hint that he wouldn't be here for the next six months.

I don't know, I really don't. All I am doing is waiting for something that we haven't put any effort into either. I bring it up to the hubby and get little more then "yeah, uh huh." Neither of us are making any progress so how can I be so irritated that Ketchup hasn't?

It makes my stomach hurt. My eating habits are not improving. I can't sleep right. Monday is my depo shot, I hope it helps.

By the way, my mom still hasn't called. She was a no call/no show for Monday. I expected it really. She had claimed she didn't know if she could come because she didn't know what time her boyfriend got off work from his new job. If she really wanted to come, she would have anyway. She won't be coming this week, I know her well enough to know this. She'll use the excuse that she only got one day off this weekend. Not sure what that has to do with hanging out at the bar for a little while on Monday night, but oh well. We'll see if she calls tomorrow.

I'm done now, later.

Short and Sweet

Just like me.

So, as the title may elude to, this is going to be a short post. I don't have the time or the energy at the moment to rant continuously about the things that I already have so artfully covered in recent posts so let me think if I can come up with anything new.

No, not much as changed with Ketchup, however on a funny note, his paycheck wasn't big enough to blow a chunk on weed. The reason why this is funny because it's become quite obvious that he'd rather keep his own stash to himself rather then share like everyone else who steps foot into this apartment, which means a lot of "lighter flick, pause, cough" for me to listen to in the next room. None of that for at least two weeks! Yay!

On the social front, Monday was fun. Our Bum showed up for the first time in months, and while I'd rather not say it was a good thing, for karma issues if nothing else, but he and Poor Me split, again. It sounds a little more long term this time, the kids are being shipped off to relatives until things are sorted out. Anyways, it meant he was finally allowed out of the house to come visit us and with what can only be considered perfect timing, on a Monday. Tall and Sassy actually came over before and after our bar trip, because Sassy isn't old enough to get in the bar, and it was pretty fun. I miss hanging out with them, even with all the petty bickering and what not.

Our Bum ended up spending the night on Monday and Tuesday, which of course meant a call, and a MySpace message, from Poor Me trying to get a hold of him. Always half in a liquor bottle (funny for someone claiming to be a recovering alcoholic, you should really read her MySpace, she's trying to be a figurehead for single parenting and it's hilarious if not sad) she whined that Our Bum had been going around telling people it was a mutual break up, while she says he left her, though I fail to understand how he could have left her if he is keeping the apartment and she's the one moving out and sending the kids out of state. She treats him like shit, I hope they don't head right back into the same pattern as in the past.

Prissy called the other day, under the ruse of chatting she finally got around to asking about Hairy's new girl. It's not that she doesn't want Hairy dating, hell Prissy has already broken up with a guy since the split with Hairy. It's that she knows this girl and who and what she is, and apparently she is a skank. I don't know if it's jealousy or what, but I've still been impressed that Hairy and Prissy have managed to keep some sort of friendship. Anyway, she basically wanted to know if Hairy was going to be bringing the new girl to next Monday because Prissy was thinking of coming. To be honest, I don't know. We really only see Hairy on Mondays and last Monday he was camping. Prissy ended up coming over. She had been hanging out with Hairy until he got a call and then came next door to see me. I miss her. I miss the girl talk. I'm glad she managed to make it past Li'l Mama's door to get here.

Last night Tall and Sassy came over, it was like old times, even Sassy said it. "Remember when..."

Looks like Tall is going to try and come to the bar this Monday. From the sound of it, quite a few people have already cleared their schedule for it, a couple of them may even be my mom and her boyfriend. That should be interesting. I have really been trying to get into the mind set that my mom can't judge me. About anything really. Weed? Hell, I started by pinching off her plants. Cigarettes? I used to sneak them from her pack when she was in the shower. Swearing? Grandma's not around, it's okay. Alcohol? She'll be drinking too (I'll have just started a few hours earlier.) So yeah, with this new mentality giving me strength, I'm hoping all will go well.

Alrightie, that's about it for now, I'm addicted to a new game we got for the XBox 360, Viva Pinata, and I feel it's about time to get back to it before the hubby gets home and wants to play Guitar Hero. Love you blog! (Love you doppelganger!)

Moms, Mondays and Migraines

Oh, where do I start? In some ways there has been a shift, in others... ugh.

Let's start with my mom. I wrote my letter. My declaration of independence. I said I couldn't do it anymore. I said I couldn't keep up the appearances anymore. I said I wanted better, that I wanted more. I had the hubby read it. He said it was perfect. Thursday night, after four or five drinks, I finally hit the send button.

Monday morning, I had a response. She's sorry. She gets it. She wants better too. She's not going to hassle me about grandma anymore. Tuesday I had another email from her, reinforcing it. I called her yesterday because I actually had some time home alone and we talked for an hour, I can't remember the last time that happened. We didn't even talk about the letter, we talked about everything. She listened, engaged, I felt her trying. She's even going to come to the bar one of these Mondays. I can't believe it. We deserve this, it's just surreal.

While that part of life seems to be on the upswing, Ketchup on the other hand, is not doing much for my peace of mind. A day after "I'm just so broke" he defies logic and starts spending money like he has it to waste. Instead of re-upping his phone with the ten dollar a month plan, he goes to Cricket and spends five times that much for bullshit he doesn't need. Now the phone is a constant extension of his hand, he's constantly on it either texting or playing around on MySpace. Even with this fancy new phone and unlimited everything, he can't let us know when his plans change or when we can expect him back home. Nifty. Another smart way to save money, he had quit smoking, so of course he had to go buy a couple packs. For reference, that's not quitting. The hubby told him to get out of the house more, so he decides to spend the day at the bar, and this was after blowing off going to church with the girl he's trying to hook up with, with the excuse of being too tired. Nice. Then the bastard gets irate at work because a guy who started after him was getting off before him. It was on the schedule that way, the hubby warned him, it happens to everyone and still he throws a hissy fit. Ugh.

At least Monday night was good, it was actually the night of Ketchup's hissy fit so he wasn't there and one of the gals (that I'm yet to name here) gossiped about him. Always fun. People are getting so comfortable with the camera that when I go through the pictures later, I don't know who took half of them. It's been a good experiment for me, letting myself be so photographed, but I think I'm doing well with it. Hell, some of the pictures are on the internet, I think that shows a pretty good increase in my confidence.

Speaking of my pictures on the internet, the hits on my other blog have doubled in the last couple weeks. More and more people know about it and love it. Yay me!

We upgraded our internet yesterday and it's been pretty nice. They sent us a free modem so we get to send back the one that we have been renting (five bucks a month for over a year now, could have bought one for cheaper then that dangit.)

Since I seem to have gotten quite boring and really can't seem to keep my train of thought with this headache brewing (maybe it's that I haven't eaten yet) I am going to go ahead and wrap this post up, Ketchup is starting to snore on the couch and it's getting distracting anyway. Later folks.

Stagnant Waters

Ketchup just sucks, so we won't start with him, we'll go with Prissy first. Prissy stopped by last week, not only to use our bathroom but to catch me up on all the juicy gossip. Prissy and Hairy are officially over and if you want someone other then either of them to blame, it's Li'l Mama.

Hairy and Li'l Mama have a weird relationship. It goes way back to when we first all became friends. Prissy had been telling Li'l Mama about all her insecurities in the relationship, one of them being the dangers of MySpace and not wanting Hairy to have one. Less then a week later, Li'l Mama sets Hairy up with a MySpace. She's also the one who kept pushing Hairy towards one of her old roommates, all the while claiming to be friends with Prissy. Anything happens and they run to each other with the information. (This is why Li'l Mama flipped out on me for complaining about her pounding past ten at night, Hairy told her we had complained and some how that turned into ranting and raving about her.)

Hairy either doesn't see or doesn't care about the disrespect and when it came down to Prissy asking, begging for him to at least stand up for her if not limit communication with Li'l Mama, through tears and claiming how much he loved her, he couldn't do it. I'm not saying that Hairy and Prissy were the perfect couple, but their lives would probably had been so much easier if it wasn't for the interfering of Li'l Mama.

Hairy and Prissy are so over that they are seeing other people, it's strange but I guess healthy in a way. Hairy's roommate's girlfriend kept updating Prissy as to what was going on, something neither Hairy or Prissy thought was quite right. Li'l Mama freaked out and changed her MySpace status so it said that "some guy's girlfriend's need to mind their own business." Ha, guess that doesn't apply to Li'l Mama in her world.

Prissy is kind of in the same boat with me when it comes to Li'l Mama, it just isn't worth it anymore. I told Prissy my side of Li'l Mama's picked fights, because of course she had heard about them through the grapevine. She knows, she gets it, she believed me. It was great hanging out with her, though it ended up being a gossip party in the bedroom on the bed because Ketchup was asleep on the couch, something that reminded me of the olden days with my mom and her friends disappearing into her room to chatter for hours. Our conversation ended when Hairy arrived, she had been here to return his ring, and while they behaved better then most exes I know, I bet it wasn't an easy situation.

I'm actually probably going to be seeking out a bit of Prissy's help, considering the letter I am writing to my mom. If anyone understands mother issues, Prissy does. Though she still is for the most part still stuck beneath her mom's thumb, they have had their fights and she has done her rebellion and can still tell the tale.

This whole thing with my mom is daunting. I started the letter yesterday, and while it makes me feel better, I can't help but be terrified at the thought of actually sending it, something that I am becoming more and more convinced that I actually have to do. The hubby says worst case scenario, it will take a few years to work itself out. Years? It could be years before things might be comfortable again with the person who for the first eighteen years of my life, was my everything? It's scary. I feel like I'm cutting myself off from my family, but I can't seem to find a much healthier path then to finally stop pretending, at least with my mom and grandma, the ones I am supposed to be closest to. I want better, we all deserve better. I'm not going to pass this legacy down to my kids, because they sure as hell deserve better. Is it so bad to want to know the people you call family instead of just keeping up appearances with the occasional card? Is it so bad to want to know my mom? Is it so bad to want her to know me? Sigh. Twenty-six years gearing up for this and I'm still not ready. The hubby says you are never ready. Not helpful.

Ketchup... oh Ketchup. The hubby hasn't talked to him yet, having forgotten during the few brief opportunities he had. He plans to talk to him about being so stagnant, spiraling into what he was before he moved in with us. Someone who barely works, smokes weed constantly, doesn't go anywhere and continuously taking advantage of his roommates resources. He can't do that here.

He eats more of my food then I do, drinks more of my soda, watches more of my television, plays more of my XBox then I do and he spends more time with me then the hubby does. It's not fair. Put that together that he can't retain anything we've asked of him (i.e. stop moving the shower head so the bathroom stops getting soaked, put your shoes away so the cats won't pee on them, stop drenching yourself with cologne in the kitchen because it's horrible and choke every time, don't play XBox in the morning because it's my can't sleep medicine, etc) and I'm fed up. The hubby plans to talk to Ketchup tomorrow since they work together. We'll see what happens. I want respect, courtesy in my own home and for him to get out of the damn house every once in a while whether it means trying to pick up more shifts or hanging out with this nineteen year old girl he said he wasn't going to go after, it doesn't matter. Is that too much to ask?

Alright, I have to go. I have laundry to fold, pasta salad to finish, my letter to work on, and a few other things before the hubby gets off (hopefully sooner rather then later.) I also have to post Monday's pictures on my other blog, I keep slacking due to lack of drive to hang out in the living room with Ketchup, but alas, my loyal viewers want more and I am going to give it to them. I'll be back to complain more soon, I always am.

Noise Pollution, the Double Standard and Ketchup Stains

For the second morning in a row we woke up at just before nine to pounding from the new plumbing business that went in right below us. Yesterday we called the landlord, the landlord called the new manager (who apparently was unobtainable, go figure) and said he would take care of it. Nine thirty rolls around, more pounding. Landlord called back later saying that they had been putting an awning up on the side of the building over their window. (Apparently their receptionists need a shady place to sit and smoke.) Ten to ten is the noise rule in this building, he said he would tell them. So this morning to be woken up at the same time by the same thing... I can't say we were very happy about it.

Lucky for Ketchup he had already today playing video games so he was not bothered (f.y.i. we asked him quite some time ago to not play in the morning because I sleep poorly and occasionally need the outlet to keep me from robbing the hubby of his precious sleep.) Want to know the best part? He's still playing. I just checked, we are in hour five. He's playing this game we just got, Thrillville, it's a sim theme park game and while it is an awesome game, it becomes quite hard to watch when the person playing does everything in such an arbitrary way. He runs around blindly simply because he didn't read the whole description of something or whatever. It's mind numbing.

I got up two hours before the hubby today. With the pounding, coughing from the living room, the phone ringing and the hubby snoring I just couldn't do it anymore. I came out into the living room (with little other options) to where you already know Ketchup was playing the XBox 360. I knew he wouldn't turn it off, he never does for me. However I expected, that when two hours later, the hubby got up, that he would immediately turn it off, as usual. This didn't happen. He saved, like usual... and then just kept playing.

The hubby and I exchanged looks. The hubby quickly learned my irritation in watching Ketchup play. Trying to help with the occasional prompt, you could hear the annoyance in the hubby's voice increasing. Again lucky for Ketchup, half deaf in the ear closest to the hubby, he probably didn't hear it.

The hubby is in the shower now, and yes Ketchup is still going, uncaring of the fact that I have been sitting here watching for the last three hours. I need a new topic.

I am going to post my Monday pictures on my other blog today, I should have already done it but what can I say, I slacked. Bar night went fairly well, though with a few less people and the bar looking as if it were closed already by ten when there was still four and a half hours on the clock. Hairy showed up with a girl, it was interesting and we're not sure what to read into it, more on him later though.

We tried to get Tall to come, but after hours of not answering his phone and not replying to texts he finally responds saying he's busy packing for Minnesota. Minnesota? What? Yeah, apparently he's going on vacation and that was the first we were hearing. We think he might of left, who knows because he didn't say anything other then just that. I wonder when he'll be back, or hell, if he's back already. Bugger.

Mondays are all I have outside this house and it's fast becoming our only social outlet so it irks me a little when our friends can't even tell us why they aren't going to be there. Sheesh. On an up note, Curly might come next Monday, which will be his second appearance. That should be cool.

Me? I'm going nuts. I did some bad math the other night. Ketchup spends roughly a hundred and forty-four hours a week creating that dip in my couch. From four in the afternoon on Wednesday till nine at night Friday. From six in the morning till nine at night on Saturday. From six in the morning on Sunday till six in the morning on Wednesday. He doesn't go anywhere. He doesn't do anything. Unless he's playing video games or eating, he can't stay awake for longer then an hour and a half and then he just lays down regardless of what's going on, who's here, whatever. During the day when it's just us, he doesn't even speak to me unless I initiate the conversation. The hubby says to consider him animalistic. I have three cats, I don't need another animal in this little apartment, especially when it hogs my couch, television and XBox.

It's gotten to the point where every time I complain to the hubby, the response is little more then "I know." Not very satisfying. Nothing is going to change. I need help.

Here's something sunny, I still haven't talked to my mom and really I have no plans to at the moment. I've been thinking of writing her a letter, even if I don't send it. I figure it would be therapeutic, and hell, even if I did send it to her, I've got nothing to lose. She doesn't have anything else held over my head and our relationship is shit anyway, it might be nice to get a few things off my chest. We'll see how that goes.

The hubby finally told Ketchup to give it a rest and instantly he shut the game off. The XBox is all nice and hot now, not something that inspires me to want to play for a few hours myself without giving it a break. I've been trying to not let Ketchup have control of the living room when he has no work obligation to sleep, but at the same time, sometimes I just don't want to sit with him for hours while we wait for the hubby to get home, so I still end up spending most of my days confined to my room. Have I mentioned before that we need to move?

Ugh. Whatever. The hubby is leaving in a few and soon after I am going to take a nap. It's the only thing that helps the day pass quicker. Yeah, I know that sounds sad. What's sadder is I find myself more anxious for the hubby to get home at night, in part because it means we can start drinking. Yeah. Bye now.

Love in Survey Form

A survey from my doppelganger, enjoy it, I don't do many of these.


Where did you meet?
High school, Journalism class.

When did you meet?
1998, my junior year, his sophomore year.

Was it love at first sight?
For me maybe, he had a girlfriend at the time, my crush lasted a year and a half before we got together.

How old were you both?
Sixteen, I'm four months older.

When did you have your first kiss?
March 3, 2000, on the first date.

Where was your first date?
The Sadie Hawkins dance at the high school, my senior year.

How long until you met the parents?
It took a couple weeks what with school and the fact that his mom worked graveyard, though he met my mom within the first few dates.

When was it official?
On that first date, just a short time after he picked me up.


The good...

Whats your happiest memory of him?
Would you believe me if I said there were too many to list? The fact that he called me his wife before we were married is a good one.

Whats the sweetest thing he has ever done for you?
He's my rock, my confidence and I hate quoting a movie to say this, but he completes me.

Does he buy you lots of gifts?
Nah, instead of gifts we just allow ourselves the occasional splurge.

Whats your favorite thing to do together?
Be. As long as we are together.

When did you know you were falling in love?
When I knew there was no other place I'd rather be.

Who said I love you first?
He did, during a time when I needed to escape from the world, I found myself in his arms.

Is it true love?
With all my heart.

How do you know this?
Because again, there is no other place I'd rather be.


The bad...

Whats his worst habit?
Besides the typical boy things? At times he likes to scratch his tooth and it makes this squeeking noise, hehe.

What annoys you about him?
It's a good thing and a bad thing, there is not one confrontational bone in his body, which means I end up being the bitch a lot.

Has he ever hurt you badly?
We had some rough patches towards the begining.

Would he ever cheat?
No, we are under agreement that if there is even the temptation to cheat, there is something wrong with the relationship that needs to be addressed instead of resorting to things that can't be taken back.

Has he ever cheated?
Depends on your definition, it's a long story.

Do you trust him?
More then myself a lot of the time.


The ugly....

Best facial feature?
His eyes, even if they are hidden behind glasses most of the time.

Favorite part of his body?
Hands, chest (I am a fan of furry, not the prepubecent look) and back.

Hair colour?
Blond, though in the past it has temporarily been a variety of colors such as black or blue.

What does he smell of?
Soap, cooking oil and sweat. Believe it or not, it's a comforting scent.

Whats he wearing when you picture him in your head?
Black slacks, black shoes and a white chef's coat, his work attire.


Intimacy...

How do you feel when he holds you?
Safe, comfortable, at home.

How do you feel when you fall asleep and wake up in his arms?
Surprised, I wiggle a lot when I sleep so it must have taken some skill on his part to make it happen.

How does it feel when he touches you?
Normal, safe.

Does his touch give you goose bumps?
Depends on the kind of touching. :o)

Does he kiss your neck?
Of course, though I think he enjoys to be nibbled more then I do.

Your tummy?
At certain intimate times, yes.

Your forehead?
Yep, it's typically where he lines up height wise.


Deep and meaningfull...

Could you be without him?
Given the choice, no. I have never liked this question so I will put it this way, I will love him for the rest of my life, no matter if we end up on the front porch in our rocking chairs watching the great grand children play a lifetime from now or if we divorced in five years.

Do you think about him constantly when your apart?
Maybe not constantly but he is a part of me so how could I not?

How long have you been together?
Eight years, five months, twenty five days... or roughly that anyway.

Can you see a future together?
I may not know what it holds yet, but it's certainly there.

Would you like to get married?
Took care of that milestone almost six years ago.

Have children?
Definately, a minimum of two.

Where can you see your relationship in a years time?
Still going strong. In a new apartment, him with a new job and perhaps sans houseguest.

5 years time?
Hopefully with a kidlet or two running around.

Do you know there is definatly no-one better out there for you?
At this time in my life, yes.

How do you know this?
Because there is not one other person on the planet who makes me feel as whole as he does.

Are you scared he might find someone better?
Not if I keep up my end of the bargin.

Is he your best friend as well as your lover?
There has been no better friend in my life.

Does he come first over everyone else in your life?
Yes actually, he knows me better then anyone else. He is my family.

Would you die for him?
Scary thought. If this hypothetical situation happened after we had kids, sorry, no.


On a lighter note...

Say something that only you two understand.
Splee!

Do you have nick names for each other?
Babe, baby, hun, just the usuals.

Does he make you laugh?
I wouldn't have it any other way.

Do you wrestle?
Yep, he may be stronger but I have the persistence and the skills to fight dirty (i.e. biting, tickling.)

Is he tickelish?
I love going after the bottom of his feet.

Are you?
Oh god yes.


Favorites...

Food?
Is it wise to ask a cook this question? You couldn't name much he wouldn't at least try.

Drink?
Water, cheap imitation coke, vodka cranberry, green tea

Sport?
Do video games count? I think I might actually enjoy watching sports more then he does.

Past time?
Cooking, video games, reading, driving.

Animal?
We have cats but I think he just doesn't know he's a dog person yet.

Aftershave?
The blue kind, but he stopped using it a while ago.

Clothing style?
Chef's whites for work, jean shorts and a t-shirt or plaid button up shirt with his duct taped sandles for his off hours. Though if you ask him he'd be perfectly satisfied every day for the rest of his life with black pants and shoes, a white linen shirt with a manderin collar and a black vest (as long as it wasn't one of those ones with the shiny back.) Heh.

Band?
Currently a lot of Latin music, Intoxicados and Ozomatli topping the list at the moment but always a sucker for the classic rock era such as Carlos Santana and Pink Floyd.

Music?
Um... I just answered this one, look up.


Your things....

Song?
Ha! Korn, Freak on a Leash.

DVD?
The Wall is one of his favorites.

Place to hang out?
Home.

Meal to cook together?
He does most of the cooking but if you are talking actually coexisting in the kitchen, I'd have to say cheese fondu.


Lasts...

Time you saw him?
Technically I can see him right now, he's still asleep in our room.

Kissed him?
Right before heading off to dream land last night.

Spoke to him?
Nine this morning. We woke up to pounding downstairs, coughing in the living room and the phone ringing.


When will you...

See him again?
When I turn my head away from the computer monitor?

Speak to him again?
When I finish this survey and go wake him up.

Tell him you love him again?
At the latest, when he leaves for work at 1:30.


Have you ever?

Spent the night together?
Every night for eight years.

Celebrated a holiday together?
All of them.

Made him cry?
Yes, he occasionally gets emotional when I get emotional.

Done anything spontaneous together?
Do tattoos count?

Is this love?
Without a doubt.


(Please ignore any typos! I didn't spell check!)

What's My Line?

Oh, where do I start.

Alright, we'll go with the bad stuff first, that way it doesn't seem like I am complaining the whole time. First off, my family sucks. I'm kind of at an impasse and I'm not sure as to what step to make next, let alone whether or not I should take a step in the first place. Shall I elaborate?

This is all connected to my grandma's behavior as of late and the way my mom thinks I should do. Basically not only the old family favorite motto of "grin and bare it" but even take it to the next level of pretending all as well. It's all about appearances in my family. Screw it if we don't have the closest relationship, if it at least looks close enough the ones supposedly in charge are appeased. My grandma believes we have this close knit family. Is that why I haven't talked to either of my cousins in probably over ten years?

My mom is pushing the issue of writing my grandma yet another thank you note for her less the relaxing hospitality during vacation (i.e. us running from the house ever chance we got, escape was our only option) something that I have already done in person none the less, but apparently not to anyone's satisfaction. Not only that now I am supposed to start writing monthly letters to my grandmother, something I can't say I have ever done in my lifetime. What am I supposed to tell her? We don't have enough polite bullshit to do a yearly Christmas update, so what the hell am I supposed to fluff these letters with?

"Yeah grandma, I ignored your call again today because it was five in the evening and I know how you love those martinis. Oh yeah, the weed we are getting has been pretty decent, kind of pricey but good stuff. It rained again today but then again I know how you hate hearing about that, if it's not sunny it's not worth it. I talked to ____ (Gidgit) yesterday, oh shit, now you're pissed."

Please.

All this is doing is making me resent the maternal influences in my life. My mom is concerned with my relationship with my grandma, my grandma is concerned with the relationship with my mother and all and all, I just don't think it should have to be this difficult or filled with so much resentment and spite and falsified feelings and words. What is so fucking wrong with it just being what it is?

I called my mom the other day because one of my MySpace friends had posted a couple pictures of her mom, a once friend and now enemy of my mom and I wanted to let her know I had sent her the pictures so she would actually check her email. Once that topic had outlived it's usefulness to her she asked me again if I had sent grandma a thank you note. I said no, again that I already had given her one while we were there. Again, that's not good enough. I asked her when the last time she sent a damn thank you note to grandma and she said right after Christmas. I've sent several since then for various reasons. Again, that's not good enough. I was getting upset on the phone so of course my mom said she had to go. Avoidance, a good family coping mechanism.

Yesterday morning I turn on the computer to find an email from my mom. This woman apologizes the same way she gives compliments. "I'm sorry, but..." "It's good, but..." She's sorry for upsetting me, but she's right and I'm wrong. She said grandma doesn't know what she's saying. Bullshit. She knows exactly what she's saying and how she's saying it. She may be turning 80 next year but she hasn't lost her grasp on things. My mom said we have to keep her happy. She also said we owe her for helping us out when I was little. (On a side note, when I ask my mom for help, financially or other, she says no. I ask her about the help grandma gave her, she says she never asked for it. I stopped asking. I still haven't gotten help. Damn double standards)

All this is doing is making me want to separate myself from the situation. In that email from my mom she said that twenty years from now we don't want to regret now. Exactly my point. I don't remember the final time I have with my grandma to be filled with fake sentiments and repressed anger. We may not have the best relationship but I love her and I will always be thankful for her for being the other half of my life when I was little. Isn't that better then hating what we are on the fast pace to becoming? I don't want to remember this time as the moment that I pushed away from my mom either. She doesn't seem to want to better what little relationship we have, instead she'd rather focus her energy on faking the relationship we both don't have with my grandma. All she is doing is establishing the same kind of relationship she has with her own mother. One of obligation and appearances.

Gidgit sees it. She warned my mom. It fell on deaf ears. Gidgit is my rock in this situation. She gets it better then anyone else possibly could because she has known my mom and grandma for over forty years. She's seeing the pattern, even as I tumble into it unknowingly. A thousand miles away and I am feeling closer to her then to my mom who only resides five miles up the road. Gidgit is always the one to call me, but I think I may end up calling her this time.

Moving on (more because the hubby is getting restless watching me type from across the room then anything else) we still haven't heard from Li'l Mama. Oh well, I guess. Can't say I have technically seen even in the last couple weeks, funny considering we are next door neighbors.

Also, if I have to listen to Ketchup say "Ha ha, my bad" one more friggin' time, instead of fixing whatever the "bad" was, I am going to start ripping my hair out. Not only does he continue to do some of those oh so irritating things that I have mentioned here before, but he has picked up a few new questionable habits. Like putting his cologne on in the kitchen. Wow. It takes a few minutes for the cloud to disburse. Also, I gave him a nice neat little place to keep his shoes considering one of the cats occasionally likes to pee on or near shoes to prove a point, and all of a sudden he can't be bothered to put his shoes away. Their new home is right next to his spot next to the coffee table. On my carpet. Shoes reeking of grease and food. Come on. He knows this one. We said it to him again. His shoes are still there. Ugh.

On to the lighter side, the good side so to speak. Our Monday bar night went well. We had probably a dozen people there, even Tall decided to take time out of his busy schedule. We managed to snag the last two open pool tables and span across three booths with our whole group. Pretty nice turn out if you ask me. Pictures have been posted on my other blog, just so you know. After a few hours of boozing it up and a slightly too expensive meal we headed back to the apartment for the two things we couldn't find at the bar. Weed and Guitar Hero. Everyone was feeling pretty good, bowls were loaded, more drinks were made.

I appealed to a familiar side of Tall about Sassy, saying that we in fact don't hate her despite what she thinks. Sounds like some of her opinion was based on the fact that we had taken her off our MySpace top friends (something we had actually done well before their last split) she however neglected to notice that we switched up all of our friends list, removing half of the people, not just her. She's nineteen. What can I say? Tall said she'd talk to her. (Part of the purpose in this venture was because we have a pretty good hunch that the reason Tall hadn't been by is because he and Sassy had reunited, something we don't have a problem with if they are happy.)

He actually ended up inviting her over. The pictures on my other blog prove it. In a way it was like old times. I'll admit it, I've missed her. Like I have stated before, I don't have many female friends, which is probably why I find myself reaching out to Prissy as well, even though she doesn't live here in the building anymore. Sassy even took a bong hit while she was here, which probably means the first inkling of her bad mouthing stoners and I will want to throttle her again but oh well. There's something to be said for familiarity.

A Nerf dart gun war was probably the peak of the evening. Dodging those little foam and suction cup darts in an over crowded living room was quite entertaining. Luckily I was only caught in the crossfire once and I ended up ransoming the dart to the highest bidder. The best part is when our little punk rocker friend decided to use me as a diving board in route to the hubby. Granted I could probably lift this little guy over my head and give him a twirl so it wasn't as much as an inconvenience as you could have expected, but it did make paying attention to Tall playing Guitar Hero an interesting test. Our little punk rocker friend dominated the war, confiscating guns and stashing them in strategic locations in the art of battle until it was finally time to go home.

After that we spent the rest of the evening winding down in a video chat with an XBox buddy as people whittled away along with the time. All and all it was a good evening though I kind of wonder if we will see any of these people again before next Monday. Maybe I shouldn't ask for too much but you know, I haven't necessarily been satisfied with the state of my life recently and could use an upswing in things.

For now, I had better go. I started this post over two and a half hours ago (with the occasional break for a drink, cigarette or bowl) and the hubby is getting increasingly restless with my neglect. I'll be back as soon as something or another happens, ha!