Lights, Camera, Action

Well, I called it. Within a couple hours of her post yesterday, Sierra changed her mind and is now devastated, blah blah blah. So when do I get to wag my knowing finger at her? Who knows. I convinced Tall that we are not lepers and to stop by after work last night, he was the one who enlightened me to her freaking out. By the way, if you read what she said, it looks like part of it is not true. He didn't decide to move out all on his own, he said she kicked him out and that they didn't actually break up until a couple hours past writing her little declaration of independence and excitement. (Tall doesn't read her blog just so you know, he respectfully stays away from it so she can have some privacy. And this is the guy she can't decide whether or not she wants to be with, sheesh.) I asked him what he wanted. He said he just wanted to be happy and stop this flip flopping. Duh, I could have guessed that pretty accurately. I guess we'll see how it all works out, again.

Enough about them, this blog is about me dammit.

We bought the camera for the XBox 360 yesterday and I was right. It is a huge exercise in self confidence. What doesn't help is teenagers asking my hubby for my cup size and whether or not I'm hot. After about four drinks (liquid confidence you know) I eased in front of the camera and sat next to the hubby. The kid who had been begging all night to see me finally stopped. He had his computer sing "I Like Big Butts" and I will take it as much of a compliment as I can. No insults or anything at least. He had seen a picture of another gal we had been playing Uno with and started going on and on about how ugly she was. I have to say, after seeing a picture of this girl who really wasn't that bad (everyone looks a little bad that close up dammit) my reservations perked back up but luckily the alcohol helped when the time came.

I guess them knowing what I look like could have gone a lot worse, I have no real reason to impress a bunch of teenagers who can't get a girlfriend in the first place, right? I got to say though, it's an eerie thing to see yourself on television especially while knowing people across the country can see you too, and odd how easy it is to forget there is a camera on you after a little while. As I said before about my camera shy ways, I am trying to beat it. I don't know if I will ever do the elevator, stairs or canoe trick as my hubby did right after plugging the camera in, but at least I am taking a step in the right direction. Yay me.

The other day I brought up an issue with the hubby. I told him I needed a little more of my hubby and a little less of Ketchup's buddy. (There is an important distinction.) Pretty bad timing on my part though, it was the first of Ketchup's four days off and just after the hubby had gotten home from work at the end of a long week. There was nothing he wanted more then to just plop down in his chair and relax and bullshit with Ketchup, while I made dinner and simply wanted a little company.

Let me try to elaborate as to why I am having so much trouble. One to three times a week, I get a half hour or so alone. Three times a week, I get roughly four hours alone with the hubby before the requirement of sleep steps in. (And that's if no one else stops by.) Five days a week, for around nine hours a day, I am alone with Ketchup. (Which means he sleeps whenever he wants to and I go sit in my bedroom and wait for either him to wake up or the hubby to get home.) Whatever time is left over it's the three of us, me, Ketchup and Ketchup's buddy, typically known as my hubby. Am I wrong to be unsatisfied?

Even the hubby's mom asked me how I was doing with the whole situation, figuring I'd be a little left behind when it came to "the boys." I'm impressed, it was an enlightened concern. It felt good that someone realized I could be having a problem. The hubby knows, it's just apparently easier said then done to do anything about it.

I can't wait to go down to California. Almost a whole week away from almost everything and anything. My grandma should make up for the lack of chaos I'm sure, but at least it will be grandma stuff and not friend stuff. No matter how much you try, your family isn't going anywhere, you never have to wonder if they are gone for good. Friends on the other hand, even when you consider them family, shit can always hit the fan. I'm looking forward to Disneyland. I want to play. I want to be a kid again.

My mom's friend plans on taking us out for lunch while we are down there. She can't believe in all the years I lived down there that I never went to a Ruby's, apparently there's basically one at the end of dang near every pier and while I have visited the Huntington Beach Pier, we never ventured into the restaurant at the end. Honestly, there's a lot of things I didn't do that I probably would have been expected to having grown up across the street from the beach. Never been surfing, boogie boarding, fishing, nothing. I used to dig for sand crabs though, impressive for me considering now I can't even have a ladybug on me without freaking out.

When I was little, my aunt and cousins came and stayed with us while their big huge house in Aspen was being built. In those nine months or so, they experienced more of southern California living then I probably still have experienced to this day. My family bought my cousins boogie boards, which beyond knowing what they were, I was foreign to. They surfed, they hiked, they took tennis lessons, while I was sent to summer school not because of my grades but because my grandma decided she wanted me doing something during the summer months. I still wonder occasionally if it was because they had money or if I was just treated differently. Given my family it could be either explanation.

On a very side note, I got my shot on Monday (I'm referring to the real Monday this time) so I am looking forward to seeing how it effects my coping skills. Considering I cried myself to sleep the other night for no good reason, I am guessing it will be a positive outcome. If not, this whole living situation may need to be reevaluated, but even that is a little of a fantasy. God we need to move.

Today is the hubby's Monday, again. It never fails, it always comes around again. On a lighter note, tomorrow is Ketchup's Monday... or Wednesday... I'm not sure. What would it be if you only work a three day week and then enjoy a four day weekend? And me? What day of the week is it for me? Who fucking knows, ha!

Babes in Toyland

So if you have read my blog with Sassy you'll have seen that it has happened again. Tall and Sassy are breaking up. With the back history I've given you on the two, isn't Sassy's post just... well it's just great, heh. Of course I've properly responded with a post of my own, nothing she hasn't heard before from my lips (or in some cases from my keyboard) but maybe in blog form it will be more affective.

I can go either way with my opinion of their relationship. They are good and bad for each other at the same time. I didn't know Sassy before they were together, but I knew Tall, and I miss that guy he was. He laughed, fuller and more completely then he ever seems to now. You know those people that when they laugh, they throw their whole body into it? He was that kind of guy. I'm not blaming her, it could just be that he has grown up some or realized how goofy he looks when he does it but I wish that laugh would come back.

We played UNO with Tall last night, didn't invite him, we just started playing and after a while he joined. Needless to say we were a little surprised to see him able to pull himself away from Call of Duty 4. He wussed out after a half hour, having withdraws from what he calls the best game ever. He didn't even get to witness any Unography, sad, so sad.

I'll come back later, the hubby wants me to play video games now, ha!

Investment

So I am ready for a little recognition here. Hello! I'm here! What I say DOES matter!

Well, that was pointless. They didn't hear me even though I feel like I am screaming it. I hate feeling like a guest in my own home. So ineffectual. I can whine and bitch all I want but in the end I can't really change a damn thing. Is it too much to ask Ketchup to lock the door when he comes and goes? Is it too much to ask for him to stop putting the ashtray on my hard to clean coasters? Is it too much for me to ask for a spot on my own couch? Is it too much to ask to not screw with the showerhead because every time he does the bathroom door gets sprayed with water? Is it bad to want a drink this early in the morning?

And the hubby says "I'll talk to him later" and it's the last I hear. Apparently it is too much to ask.

I woke up to the hubby's snoring this morning, no wait, let me rephrase that, I was woken up by my hubby's snoring this morning. I love feeling bad for asking him to roll over. (That was sarcasm just so you know.) Ketchup was playing video games instead of sleeping (as usual) so I made my way into the living room. The living room, it doesn't seem to be my living room anymore, if it was, I'd probably be sitting in my own spot more often. It was either that or continue to listen to what can only be considered an uncomfortable volume of snoring. At least with this option I was able to boot up the computer and be here.

I'm lost and really not too sure how to find my way back. Every day just seems like I'm just waiting for the next day, even though nothing changes. I still feel bad, the hubby still asks me what's wrong, even though that too hasn't changed. Any sense of routine I had is gone, but then again, why does it matter? I'm just the housewife. I have no job I have to sleep for, no kids I have to recover from, just a lack of purpose and a bunch of girly hormones that make me take it to heart and keep it there. If I was a guy, I don't think I would be having this problem, at least not this bad.

The hubby says guys don't invest as much emotionally in friendships as women do, and while they are rarely rewarded for the good things, the bad things never hurt as much either. I invest. Like throwing all my money into a pyramid scheme, I invest. I find a new friend, we're close, we connect, I pour my heart out as they pour theirs. Then I am reminded why I shouldn't invest. My feelings or ego gets bruised and I'm left wondering why I put myself out there in the first place. However, it's a sad thought to want to change, to just close off and not let it affect me, how do you not miss out on the good that way? It's a risk either way. A risk to put myself out there or to not and risk missing it all. I'm not a risk taker, you know that, what am I left to do?

Speaking of risks, I spent some time yesterday looking at J, K and M's MySpace pages (the girls from the post "Can Preppy Girls Mosh?") M's is private, so not much to learn there, however for the hell of it, I Googled her, imagine my surprise when it actually came up with something about her work with a bird sanctuary. J is already a MySpace friend and with a lack of a computer there is rarely anything new, I miss her though. K however is a relatively open book and I have to say it's an interesting read. Again I pondered the idea of friend requesting K and M but unfortunately I still found the risk too strong. We had ended things badly and while I miss them in a way, in another way I don't. I was healthier without them and to this day I don't know if I am strong enough to deal with them again.

I feel myself lacking friends, maybe that's why I browsed their pages yesterday. Longing for the past without actually resorting to going there feels like a safe way to go. Tall didn't get UNO by the way, or maybe he did, who knows, he hasn't actually spoken to us. Again with that investment. I know I'm the one who put myself there, in a place where I let the small petty things hurt. I know there is very little point to it. I also know I can't seem to pull myself out of it. Sucks, huh?

That's enough of my whining for now, because as usual it's getting me nowhere except perhaps leading me in circles and I'm dizzy enough thank you. Here's to the hope that my pessimistic attitude doesn't follow me throughout the rest of the day. Cheers.

Blocked Communications

Though I am unable to name the exact symptoms, I think we are moving into another phase where Tall and Sassy have better things to do then hang out with us. It's been several days since they have been by and communication has been limited, in other words only the hubby and Tall have interacted at all, and mainly only in texts. Tall just got Call of Duty 4 so he obviously has better things to do but when we asked him if he would play with us when we got it, he responded with "when I play." I'm basically going to consider that a no. Tonight should be interesting, he said (after quite a bit of begging on our part) that he would buy UNO today, but again, given his noncommittal response, I kind of doubt that one too.

As for Sassy, who knows. She moved us down her MySpace friends list and for someone so fresh out of high school, I figure that means something in that world. Speaking of MySpace, Prissy moved us down her list too, to put Li'l Mama before us, funny considering Li'l Mama just upped Hairy on her list to which Prissy is not on and Prissy is none too happy about their friendship. Ah the politics of MySpace, luckily I care very little... kind of like the rest of politics.

I am a bong person, pretty much always have been. The reason I say this is Ketchup has been toking through his weed pretty fast, loading his new pipe a lot. I believe this has strongly contributed to the cough I haven't been able to get rid of over the past few days. Thank god he is just about out so I don't have to smoke out of that thing anymore, heh. By the way, he made it really hard to post just now, moving from across the room on the couch to a chair only five feet away. I spent the last twenty minutes surfing other blogs instead of posting on my own. Not that I mind browsing other people's blogs, but typically it's when that is what I set out to do, not because I feel uncomfortable in the middle of my post.

Moving on, I waiting on the hubby, he is likely to get off early tonight so I am just on the edge of my seat with anticipation. He teased me today. He came home on his break for a kiss, well, it was actually to get his phone but yeah, he had to leave right away again.

Well... Ketchup did it again, detoured for about a half hour this time but things have changed for the better. Ketchup just left for work, and the hubby just got home, so you will have to excuse me for leaving you now, some things are just more important.

Technical Difficulties

Yesterday, dear blog, you almost lost me.

Just after finishing yesterday's posts, I was screwing around making my desktop all pretty and all of a sudden the power flickers. XBox, the television, and even my precious computer all powered down. While everything else easily responded to their power buttons, my computer did not. Affectionately referred to as "your mom" my computer ignored our efforts, flashing a scary red light where the power indicator should be. We unplugged it and let it sit. Oh how those minutes were long.

After plugging it back in, the scary red light was gone and we again tentatively extended a digit to press that power button. It turned on, I was still holding my breath. Blah, blah, blah, welcome to Windows! Uh wait... why isn't it doing anything? Click, click, click... Still nothing, literally nothing, not even Ctrl+Alt+Delete. With a whine I hit the reset button. Welcome to Windo-- stuck again.

This pattern repeated numerous times. It wasn't working, nothing was working. I shut it down, improperly of course considering I had no other options.

I threw on some shoes and shuffled my way down the hallway of our building to Hairy's door and knocked. I activated their fierce guard dog, the Chihuahua, but sadly no one was home. I called him and begged for sympathy and aid (he's the closest thing I have to a computer guy) and he said he would stop by once he got home.

That hour or so that the computer sat off was sad, it is a rare occurrence around here. I ended up passing the time playing Bejeweled 2 on the 360 until that much awaited knock came. I offered him a beer and pouted while he booted "your mom" up to the same results. He couldn't even get safe mode to load correctly. Lucky for me Hairy had just recently found his Windows disk, salvation! He ran home to fetch it, taking just long enough that I figured that my luck was wearing thin and maybe he had found it. To my relief, he returned, disk in hand.

At first, he tried running a repair, but either the disk, Windows or him just wasn't working right (I blame the fact that he is not so much a computer guy anymore as he is a car guy... funny considering he has barely helped us with his car, heh) and we broke down and realized the best way to go would be a wipe and reload.

So yes, this means I have lost everything. Luckily a good portion of our pictures and music had already been backed up, the biggest loss would probably have to be my favorites list. I bookmark everything and now I have to start from scratch, yay me. After Hairy left, satisfied that everything was working and protected, I had to sit through ninety two updates, sheesh that boy needs to get a newer copy of Windows. On the plus side, my computer now seems to be running quite efficiently without all those pesky programs on it.

This whole ordeal started just before the hubby left for work, by the time he got home I was still sitting through updates and trying to remember what all I needed to download still. I basically got nothing accomplished, not even the dishes. Bad housewife, bad. Ketchup spent the whole day going back and forth between sleeping upright in his chair and trying to get me to play Halo 3, something I was obviously too distracted for.

So the point of this whole story is that even though you didn't know I was gone, I'm back and I'm going to try and keep it that way by not screwing it up some how. (I have a bad history with computers that I'm combating here so wish me luck, heh.)

Yes, yes, I know, you've missed me. I've missed me too, ha! Opportunities become slim pickin's for posting during the hubby's weekend. People are here, places to go, things to do, busy but not busy at the same time, you know what I mean? It's the hubby's Monday, blah. Mondays typically suck no matter what day they fall on, however, tomorrow is Ketchup's Monday, meaning the hubby and I will have the nights alone, that's hardly ever a bad thing.

So, Sassy finally posted on my other blog. To any who may have seen it, what do you think of her? Everything I described? She's young but I love her (most of the time, heh.) I hope she gets some good use out of this whole Blogger experience, I sure have. She and Tall deserve some happiness, and I'm sure it would come if she just calmed down.

Speaking of calming down, I just made my appointment for my depo shot for next Monday, I should have gotten it yesterday, and even though I am well within my time limit, this next week just may be interesting. I wonder how it will change my outlook on Ketchup, or better yet, my outlook on my hubby's outlook on Ketchup.

Since Ketchup will probably still be staying with us, we have a built in catsitter for when we go to California. Last time we had our little punk rocker friend do it which was fine except for the fact that he left the some lights and the heat on. (At least we weren't paying for gas and electricity at the time, it was just stuffy as hell in here when we finally got home, and after a thirty three hour train ride, it kind of sucked.)

My hubby's new curiosity is if we could get weed while we are down there. You know, there probably is a way, more then one way actually, but we are going to be staying with my grandma, it feels like it would be a big risk. We didn't the last time we were down there, and while we could have used it a time or two after dealing with my grandma or southern California traffic, we managed to be just fine. As for my smoking habit, under my grandma's watchful eye, my three quarter of a pack a day diminished to a pack for the whole week as they could only be snuck at rare occasions. When I'm busy, it doesn't matter as much which is good, because of anyone in my family, she's the one I'd most like to hide my not so squeaky clean side from. My mom and I are already the black sheep of the family, I would really rather not add to that. Thank god for alcohol. I am old enough to drink in front of the family and not feel guilty, hell yeah!

Tall turns twenty one next month and Prissy like a month and a half after that, so I might finally venture into the bar next door, that and our little punk rocker friend and Ketchup want to go play pool and it's one of the best places around to do so. I don't think I will ever be a bar person. They are way too expensive for my tastes, however if someone else is paying, I might be able to be convinced. Thank goodness it's next door because it sounds like their bathroom is horrible, ugh.

So I updated, not much to say and not much time to say it in. I'm sure to be more loyal over the next few days due to scheduling so I will definitely try to come up with something more interesting then this.

Food time, yay!

Happy 420!

So, as you may be able to tell, I didn't make it back for another post yesterday. After a breakfast consisting of leftover pizza and a well deserved nap, I proceeded to do the dishes and a few other housewife duties, our little punk rocker friend stopped by and confiscated my computer chair... no posting going to happen then but I don't mind too much, I like our little punk rocker friend.

He's been stopping by a lot lately, on the days he isn't with his daughter. It's nice considering there are times we go months without seeing him, for no in particular reason. I don't know if it's the couple years he has on us or the fact that he can be so much more mature then all the youngin's running around here but we've never had an issue with this guy, it's awesome.

Happy 420 to everyone who celebrates it! I am celebrating the day and this post with the aid of weed. I'd recommend it to everyone, even though this really is no depart from my regular schedule. Like I said in my last post, we don't have anything fancy planned. In fact, the hubby has to work, isn't it sad? I'm kind of glad it falls on a Sunday this year, no school related issues to deal with. I know some bad things can be associated with this day, and while not trying to diminish the tragedy some have suffered, I'd rather go with the lighter side ("higher" side, if you will) of this day's history.

To be honest, this day only has something to do with weed because we decided it would. 420 typically refers to the perfect time of day to sit back, relax and reflect on the day with the aid of a little our little friend Mary Jane. Most often we have the seventies and more specifically Cheech and Chong to thank for our stoner traditions. Yeah, I've researched it a little. The first time my mom, stoner of over thirty years, asked me what 420 meant, I figured I should know. Google is a wonderful thing.

Just after midnight last night, while indulging in our newest addiction, UNO, someone entered the room, wished us a Happy 420 and sparked up a joint. It was great. So far, one of the hubby's reservations about joining the 360 camera world is showing the passing and participating in the bong. I think this relieved his fears some.

For me, the 360 camera would be an exercise in confidence. Showing myself on video across the internet has never been high on my to do list. I'm not even crazy about having my picture taken. However, looking through the hundreds of photos stored on my computer, I realize we have plenty of pictures of friends and activities, but not many of myself. I prefer to be the one taking the pictures, and the hubby knows my issue with being inherently camera shy and respectfully doesn't aim in my direction. I wish I was in some of those pictures now. I feel left out. I told the hubby to... I guess use a little less respect for me where the camera is concerned. Take my picture, just make sure to delete the bad ones for goodness sake. I'm trying, I really am, I crave confidence. It doesn't help that this isn't just my issue, it runs in the family, real strong. I don't have one picture of my grandma and the only pictures of my mom I have, have typically been taken by force and only over the past few years, heh.

Alright, time to go hunt and gather... I'm hungry and it's not just the weed. Let's just hope that I don't get distracted and forget what I went into the kitchen for, that... that we can blame on the weed.

A Brief Update

This won't be a real long post but I am going to try to make up for it by attempting to come back later, just wanted to say a few things and then I'll have to be on my way.

First, it's official, for the first time in years, the hubby and I are going on vacation, the tickets to California have been bought! (It was quite satisfying to watch that total be charged to my mom's credit card, ha! I'm bad.) To make it even better, due to a delightfully wonderful uncle, we for sure will be attending an Angels game and visiting the greatest place on Earth, Disneyland! Yay! Less then two months away now, I can't wait.

Second, payday came and went, it wasn't horrible. Ketchup contributed to our overall fund, bought me a carton of cigarettes and bought some weed. It's a nice start.

Lastly, the hubby and I spent hours last night playing UNO on the 360. I have to say, the best part of that game is the social interaction, we've been chatting with some awesome people of all ages. To make it just that much better, we figured out how to enable it so we can see people's 360 web cams, hilarity ensued. Be warned however, in the wee hours of the night/morning, you can see some things that are not for the faint of heart. Ridiculous and hilarious at the same time. Around four in the morning, everyone pretty much gave up actually playing the game and just sat around talking. It was great to see people turn off their lights and climb into bed, still with the controller in hand, a few even fell asleep. We finally decided to get some sleep sometime past five. I like it when the hubby's lack of sleep can't be blamed on me.

On another note, with everything that tomorrow can be tied to, is anyone doing anything special? Besides making Cheech and Chong proud with quantity and quality (so basically the daily routine) we have nothing planned, but you never know with the way people come and go around here.

Alright, that's it for now, I need to eat and get some more friggin' sleep. Later!

Riddle Me This

Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me.

I hold onto things way too tightly. When ever something bad happens, I just wait for it to happen again.

For example, several years back and two cars ago, my first car had a battery that died at a drop of a hat. So of course, when I got my second car, I expected the same thing to happen. It didn't, it came down with a whole new problem, it would idle hard every time you had to stop, having a bad habit of dying at stoplights. When we got our most recent car, I again assumed the same problems even though they don't exist.

A couple years back, a pipe burst beneath our sink, when trying to turn it off, the shut off knob broke in the hubby's hand. It was a big ordeal, it involved shutting the water off to the whole building and multiple trips to Home Depot. A couple months ago, our toilet started acting up, getting all loud and scary. Can you guess what I was afraid of happening? It wasn't even possible in this situation, but I was afraid of something exploding or the like.

Several months ago I was making pies and forgot to compensate for the extra drippings that leak from the pan. In no time at all the kitchen was filled with smoke and I was home alone. I panicked. It was just the oils burning off the bottom of the oven but I was so worried I called the hubby at work to talk me through it. Seriously, no harm done, nothing burned, no fires, nothing. However, now I think about it every time I reach for that button to turn on the oven.

Apply this reasoning to the rest of my life and I may be a little easier to understand. A friend, coworker or peer screws me over. I can forgive, but I don't forget and I end up waiting for it to happen again.

I think that's the issue I have with a lot of people, say like Li'l Mama. So far, for as long as I have known her, she has picked a fight with me every December. Before the second time happened, I expected it, I was waiting for it, I just didn't know when it was coming. Did it taint my reactions? Probably. Was I right? Yeah. Do I think it's just a matter of time before it happens again? Duh.

How about Tall and Sassy behaving like we were the plague and Prissy wordlessly hating us again? Yeah, I figure that will all happen again too. It never seems to be "if", it's always "when" with me. It's probably the reason I haven't tried to contact a few old friends from high school, it's not a history I want to repeat.

It doesn't make it feel any better when it happens. Even seeing it coming, it still feels like a surprise. It's not necessarily a good feeling to be repeatedly stepped on, but I don't seem to be making any effort to change the pattern. Am I too nice? Then why am I such a bitch? It certainly is a riddle of epic proportions.

Roommates (In Novel Form)

For various reasons, I have been thinking about roommates. The horror! Don't get me wrong, I don't mind people around and I don't mind sharing the bills, but roommates suck. I've stated it before and I will probably keep repeating it until the day I die, I'll have tenants but I will never have roommates again. I need some sense of control.

The idea of equality in a household like that was a great and novel concept to me at first, no longer though. We'll start with the first roommates, the hubby (at the time, the boyfriend) and... we'll call him Keanu, because at any given time he liked to believe he was out of some typically popular movie like The Matrix or Blade or television show like Buffy or Angel but at heart was just an air head dork. (I may have called him Spike here at one point, who knows.) The hubby? His mama raised that boy right. Maybe it was the lack of a male influence but it was amazing. This boy knew how to clean up after himself, put the toilet seat down, everything. As far as living together, we handled that pretty good, a few adjustments but nothing earth shattering. Keanu... well... no. No, his upbringing was littered by a mother who always did his laundry and dishes, thanks ma.

We had a three bedroom apartment, the hubby and I in one of the small rooms, Keanu in the other small room and the master bedroom was basically supposed to be a second living room, mainly due to it having it's own bathroom and it wasn't fair for one or the other of us to have it. This basically meant that Keanu had two bedrooms due to his hygiene habits.

I am pretty sure I have mentioned him before, so please forgive any revisited stories. We had set up my computer and Keanu's computer up in the dining room. No big deal right? Heh, no. His computer was like four years old, mine was like four months old. Can you guess who's was better? He started using my computer, and seriously I only knew half of what he was doing on it so I password protected the screen saver. Ha! He responded by password protecting his. Honestly, why the hell would I touch his obsolete sticky piece of shit when I had my nice pretty thing that I actually cared enough about to not leave half eaten ramen noodles sitting on top of it for days at a time?

Keanu had a girlfriend. I know, I couldn't believe it either. She was a horsy little thing that thought she was the bee's knees for being in high school and having a boyfriend with his own apartment. We had thin walls. Yeah, ew. Keanu liked it that way. He'd like to brag, not to get into too many details, but he liked to brag about how many condoms he'd use a week. Personally, I didn't need to know about his obsession with balloon animals. (Ha! Burn!)

He'd leave his stuff everywhere. To the extent that we had to start piling it in front of his closed bedroom door in a desperate act to get him to do something about it. I think he may have seen this as an act of warfare. The hubby (again, boyfriend at the time) was working graveyard full time and I was working days just shy of full time and going to college twenty hours a week. Opposing schedules suck by the way. Keanu was on my schedule, and I don't know if it was me or just because I was the one there, but he started treating me like shit. Like screaming at each other, me in tears kind of bull. The hubby would basically have to spend most of the time that he should have been sleeping, defending me from the verbal abuse spewing from Keanu's mouth. We don't know what inspired the vile change in him. Whether it was the strain of living together or something bigger, who knows, it was escalating though.

One day, we had to make our way into the master bedroom, over piles of... god knows what and found the bathroom in a state more typically found in horror movies.

There was six inches of obviously used bath water still lingering in the tub. Perched upon the toilet seat was an open Styrofoam take out container with half a portion of Chinese take out rotting away. The floor, what parts of it that were visible through the mass of dirty clothes and towels, was disgusting. The once white sink was stained with hair dye and stuck with fur that I am not sure where he was shaving it from considering his chin at the time was only able to produce the effects of playing in dirt. I don't even want to know why the mirror was as cloudy as it was. Ugh.

This is basically how he left it when he moved out. We lived with Keanu for exactly twenty two days and have never spoken to him again. It's a little sad. He was one of by best friends for years. I actually met him on the internet. Yeah, I know, sounds creepy. I used to track down people I went to school with online. It was awesome to figure out who they were before they figured out who I was. More then once, once they figured out who I was it was like "oh, okay" and we move on with our lives. Keanu became a really close friend and was the one who helped me leave that bitchy social group that was doing nothing for my emotional health. Keanu actually introduced me to my first boyfriend (and besides getting the whole "first boyfriend" thing out of the way, I really don't thank him for.) I found him on MySpace but still haven't contacted him. He still thinks he is a character from a movie, just a martial arts/rock star movie now. I'm not sure if it's sad or comforting to know he hasn't changed much.

So... that was our first roommate. After that we scrubbed for days and moved into the master bedroom, but it was time to figure something out because we couldn't afford the rent ourselves. Now meet Mr. Fix It. We'll call him this because he used to take everything apart. We later found out this was due to being up for days at a time tweaking but that's beside the point. The hubby worked the graveyard shift with him at one of the many Mart stores littering the area and suddenly Mr. Fix It was in need of a place to stay and we were in urgent need of filling the gap in our rent, it was seemingly perfect. I think we should have known better.

Mr. Fix It was older, by several years, purchaser of our alcohol at the time, seemingly wiser by age and definitely more courteous then Keanu. He was clean, perhaps because he didn't really have all that much to call his own, limited furniture and belongings, something that we probably should have asked about but didn't. This was in the beginning of our stoner days and he was just dandy with that, again, never asked what else he was dandy with.

Somewhere around this time, we added another roommate, another coworker of the hubby's. We'll call him the Jailbird, simply because he only lasted a week, that and honestly until today I had forgotten his name. Why call him Jailbird? He was arrested. Not sure what for, but yeah, I don't think we saw him again. I'm not sure if we ever got any money from him and with barely anything but a backpack of clothes, we weren't even left with anything interesting.

Back to Mr. Fix It. Our first real hint that he may not have been the most wholesome of a fella would be the check incident. He and two friends basically got a hold of a check book. Who's? I don't know. What I do know, is they wrote a twenty five hundred dollar check out to themselves and cashed it. Instead of hearing bells and whistles and seeing red flags, we were appeased by a Christmas gift of a hundred dollars each and the coverage of rent that month. I know, bad us.

With some of that hard earned cash, Mr. Fix-It bought a Dreamcast, new. (Wow, that really dates this story doesn't it?) He had a technologically advanced friend who burned him roughly seventy games for the Dreamcast. We were only allowed to play the thing under his supervision. Odd considering we let him have free reign of our Playstation and whatever else we had at the time, but whatever, he was possessive of his stuff, that's fine I guess.

One night he took apart one of the Dreamcast controllers. Surprise, surprise, he couldn't put it back together in such a way that it would work. He talked the store into letting him exchange it saying it was defective. Did I mention he was a bit of a charmer? The really polite type. Another night, he took apart one of my desk chairs (I had two at the time, oddly enough he did this to the better of the two) and it's funny, even something as simple as an office chair never goes back together right after taking it apart. We ended up with a spinning seat with no back, perfect for a couple years later when we got a cat who loved to be spun but kind of pointless when I was still using it as an actual chair.

Around this time we added yet another roommate, trying to fill that third room and take some of the strain off the burden of rent and bills. We'll call her Sleepy, wanna know why? That's all she did at the apartment. She worked and went to school I think, so seriously, she'd come home to sleep for like twelve hours and then be gone for two days. Her room consisted of blankets and pillows on the floor and some clothes, that's it. She was a friend of Mr. Fix It's so I'd assume her lifestyle was fueled by more then just caffeine. She lasted less then a month before she basically just disappeared. Again, I'm not sure if we actually ever received any financial restitution for housing her.

Another shady moment with Mr. Fix It came when a buddy of his stopped by and decided to plant evidence in our bathroom. I don't know if it was the same situation or a different one, but we found a check book and some other papers hidden there obviously planted by the guy. Fishy as hell but Mr. Fix It said he'd take care of it.

About two days after rent was due (we typically paid a few days late anyway) the hubby and I came home to find most of Mr. Fix It's stuff gone. No warning, no nothing, high and dry as rent is due. By this time we had a pretty decent idea that it was no longer a good idea for him to be living there anyway so we hunted the apartment for every last item belonging to Mr. Fix It, packed it all into a box and set it outside our front door. Since we weren't in a position to change the locks on such short notice, we actually went through the effort of barricading the door. Sure enough, he came by to get the last of his stuff. Yelled a few things through the door about wanting to get in but we didn't budge. He basically said fine and left with his box. He left the keys in the door.

Again, a little sad, he was a decent guy except for the not so decent things he was doing, heh. Last we heard we was doing like seven years in prison for none other then check fraud, go figure.

Wait! Wait! I'm not done yet! I hope you haven't gotten bored because I'm on a roll and it's all downhill from here. We had to move, the eviction notices told us so, ha! We found this great little two bedroom apartment in a wooded area, it was awesome. Our friend, let's call her String Bean, was looking for a place too so we all applied together. Problem? She got accepted, we didn't. Solution? Move in anyway. (Yeah, that's kind of another story.) I even had to borrow three hundred dollars from my mom due to an unexpected move in cost. On a side note, she made me pay her back over five hundred dollars for the inconvenience.

Moving on to String Bean. The hubby and I both worked with her in the drive in restaurant that wasn't a drive in. Picture this girl, will ya? Skinny, like heroin sheik skinny without the sheik part, mousy little thing with either really bad posture or a touch of scoliosis, walled with her hips first, makes me think of Squidward a little, and virtually no chin to speak of. Now picture this girl going from an overbearing mother to an overbearing husband (who took sole custody of their son) to being out on her own with us. Can you imagine that she'd go a little wild? Funny, given her mousy demeanor, we really didn't see it coming.

Our lifestyle of people coming and going had really started before this point, but this is where it solidified. Our upstairs neighbor was our little punk rocker friend, someone who is still to this day one of our closest friends. His buddy who hung out with him all the time? That was our last houseguest, Our Bum, again, one of our closest friends. Couple apartments down? That's where our first houseguest was living with her cousin until we took her in. See? History.

Again, back to String Bean. First off, having not even filed for divorce yet, she got a boyfriend. A buff tattooed guy who struck me as an ass hole from the first meeting, but he was the opposite of her husband so I guess I understood the attraction. With this boyfriend, she was careless, and got pregnant, real quick as a matter of fact. She got an abortion. I will never, ever condone having an abortion as a form of birth control for stupid people. If you can't be smart in the first place, deal with the consequences.

She kept getting more and more wild. What started out as a few people over every few nights, turned into a lot of people over every night. I found myself waking up every morning to the mountainous task of cleaning up spilt ash trays and beers, bowl marks and empty beer bottles. One morning I even awoke to find my console television, once owned by my grandfather, dead beyond repair. With the "party" that ensued the night before, I didn't believe her claim that it just suddenly died. It had been serviced a couple years earlier and was in perfect working order the night before. (Sadly we had our little punk rocker friend and Our Bum give the television a proper burial... they, for my sake, didn't tell me until years later that they pushed it off a cliff. The only memento of a grandfather I never met. I wonder if I would have felt better to watch it go.)

Tensions were getting higher and it was soon becoming clear that we were starting not to like each other anymore. With her new found freedom, she was letting out this inner bitch we didn't know she had and while on the one hand proud to a certain extent of breaking from her shell, on the other hand that shell was shattering all over us in a very unappealing way.

Our lease (or more correctly her lease) was about to be up so we started looking for options. Luckily for us, our option found us. That little drive in restaurant that isn't a drive in? It's right next door to where I now live. Our current landlord left a note for me (we knew each other remember? He's my old piano teacher's dad.) The note said he had an open apartment if we were looking. Hell yes we were looking! We met up with him, viewed the apartment, even made a deal allowing us to move in with no move in costs or anything.

We told String Bean we were moving and packed up all of our stuff. In a way, we kind of screwed her a little when we left. For some reason, we were supposed to be paying rent right before we moved our butts out of there, for one, we were moving, why pay for an apartment we were leaving? And two, to pay rent we had to physically walk up to the landlord's door, a risk considering we were not even supposed to be living there. So, when String Bean gave us her half of the rent to go pay... we only paid her half. We kept our half, not only because we were moving, but as compensation for the three hundred dollar security deposit I had to beg my mom with blood, sweat and tears for and I knew I would never get back. Also, we took her television. She had put her piece of shit little thing on top of my dead console television when it blew, I guess in some sort of compensation for it. So, in the spirit of compensation, we took it, the last thing we packed into the truck before we drove off.

Again, we haven't really talked to her since. From what we have heard, some time after all this she ended up living on the streets with her meth head boyfriend and has had another kid. Some people shouldn't be allowed to reproduce. Her first son, even with an overbearing father, is much better without her then with her. I feel bad for this second child.

We moved into this building and gave up the roommate gig, thank goodness. I think it's a great show of the hubby's and my relationship to have survived all of this. However, since swearing off roommates, we seem to have developed an affinity for houseguest's. It is a better position to be in, but not necessisarily better on all counts.

Poor Me, that's what I'll call our first houseguest, the one who lived with her cousin a few apartments down, because that's presisely the reason we are no longer friends with her, we could no longer handle the "poor me" attitude we either didn't see in the beginning or she developed along the way. The first apartment we had in this building had a spare bedroom, which is where Poor Me made home for about three months after a mix of her cousin kicking her out and not being able to stand her cousin's girlfriend anymore.

Poor Me was trying to get back on her feet after a pretty detrimental fall, having separated from her husband and her mother was at the time caring for her daughter. Her goal was to get a job and eventually her own place so she could bring her daughter to come live with her. All admirable. I even enjoyed the way she spoke of raising and teaching her daughter. Teaching her Spanish as well as English due to her mixed heritage and sign language and classical music. It was inspiring. Looking back, I wonder how much was true, I never saw any of it in action.

Yes, she did end up getting a job, two days a week and it didn't last. It wasn't that she wasn't capable, she just had no drive. She'd rather spend her time with her new boyfriend (Our Bum, don't worry, he's coming up.) I later learned that I probably should have disinfected nearly every surface in that apartment, and the laundry room. Shudder. People have sex lives, I get it, but why do I have to know so much about it?

We were decent friends. I could sit and talk for hours with her, and honestly at the time, there were very few people who knew some of the things I had told her. She wasn't really a horrible roommate, we still had doors at the time, that helped. She cleaned up after herself for the most part, even attempted the dishes a few times, not easy considering at the time the sink drained into a bucket. She once even went down to one of the local churches who give out food to low income families and came back with a box full of rice, pasta and things of the like.

After about three months though, with rockiness in the relationship with Our Bum and prompting from her family, she was going to be moving back home with mother. She left most of her stuff behind, claiming she'd be back for it soon. She swore up and down that she'd write and send money to pay us back for letting her stay with us. We told her the money wasn't recessionary but she insisted, saying she wanted to repay our kindness.

So Poor Me moved. She never came back for her stuff. She never wrote. We found out some time later that she did in fact move back to the area, with her daughter even. She'd call, but only to see if Our Bum was here. She stopped by once, with her daughter, three at the time. My apartment is not child proof, by any means. While Poor Me rattled on and on about her issues with Our Bum, her daughter proceeds to try to go after buttons on the stereo, lighters on the table, even knocks over a bong. What does Poor Me do? Nothing, absolutely nothing besides continue to seek pity. I went about cleaning up the mess that she seemed perfectly oblivious to when her daughter started to rather rudely go after my cats, again apparently going unseen.

I was appalled. I so would have thought she was a better parent then this, but this is the first mother-daughter parenting moment I truly see? I called her out. I told her that she was going to have to leave. She needed to control her child when she was in my home because this was just disrespectful and it was preferable from now on that if she was going to bring her kid then she needed to call ahead so we could prepare a little. It's only fair. She left. She only stopped by one other time after that, to look for Our Bum.

It's not like we never saw her again either. She moved in down the street, with her daughter and Our Bum. She'd still call, still only to talk to Our Bum. She'd let him come over, but then call to yell at him for leaving. Poor Me took to calling in the wee hours of the morning, drunk of course, demanding to speak to Our Bum. One time when he wasn't here when she called, the hubby answered and knew just as well as I what she wanted. After claiming that wasn't the reason she called, then asking for him again. the hubby told her that Our Bum wasn't here and ended the call. Seconds later she called back. I answered, I'm not as polite as the hubby. On the brink of denying her real purpose for calling again, I demanded to know what she wanted. Poor Me said I knew what she wanted. I told her Our Bum was not here, she accused me of lying. Until now, I had never lied nor had a reason to lie to her. Again I told her he wasn't here and hung up. The next day when Our Bum showed up, I told him if he ever wanted me to lie for him, I now would.

This leads us to Our Bum, our second houseguest. He had been bouncing back and forth between Poor Me and his step-dad's place for quite some time until his step-father's was no longer an option and it was one of his "off again" phases with Poor Me due to her getting knocked up with what may or may not have been his kid, which she apparently used the abortion method of birth control over and then blamed him for. I still kind of wonder if she was knocked up in the first place, more on that in a few.

Our Bum needed a place to stay and it's not like our couch was new to him. (We were in our current apartment by this point, no spare room dammit. I never realized how much I'd miss it.) In the year he lived with us, he really didn't have any job to speak of unless you count an odd day here and there working under the table for a buddy. Except for space, weed and cigarettes, he really didn't use up much of our resources. He had plenty of other friends to go visit to encounter food an the opportunity for a shower. He'd show up in the evening and watch my soap operas with me, then play video games with the hubby when he got home. Slept and a majority of the time was out the door before we woke up in the morning.

We joke about him being our adopted child, a stray who followed us home one day and we were still trying to decide whether or not to keep him. Yes, it was an inconvenience of privacy (I mentioned no doors, right?) And yes, an extra drain on weed is never good, but we love this guy, still do, probably always will. I can truly imagine my kids having their uncle ____ to play with and I always want to have a room available for him if he needs it.

After about a year of living with us, close enough that we even got him a stocking to add to our collection for Christmas, Poor Me, who had never really left the picture, was back in the picture. She got knocked up again, and again Our Bum may or may not be the daddy. With her carelessness of her last pregnancy I am curious as to why she decided to keep this one. She even quit smoking, something she hadn't bothered to do when she said she was pregnant before standing there with a home rolled filterless cigarette, which raises by doubts about that whole story. I'm not sure how it happened (considering he already has a son he never sees) but Our Bum stepped up. He moved in with her, got a full time job which he has kept for well over a year and a half now, I think that's a record breaking streak for him. They fight constantly, he drinks constantly and we haven't seen him in over six or seven months. Originally when this arrangement started, we were supposed to have visitation with him. Yes, visitation, we helped raise him dammit, we should at least be able to retain partial custody of him, right? I get that he has a family to take care of, but I also get that he is just miserable. Maybe if he was allowed out of the house every once in a while to see daylight, it wouldn't be so bad.

Our little punk rocker friend sees him often, so at least we get updates. I recently found Poor Me's MySpace page. Oh my god does it piss me off. Self righteous bitch. She claims to be a recovering alcoholic, having been in rehab and done the whole AA thing. Recovering typically means you no longer do the things you are addicted to, right? Don't they also tell you to stay away from other addictions? Like cigarettes and weed? And people who enable the drinking and other addictions? On Poor Me's MySpace she repeatedly states her superior intellect to Our Bum, that and she's always right and he's always wrong. To make it worse, her readers obviously don't know him what so ever so they completely support her.

By coincidence the hubby ran into someone who met up with Our Bum and Poor Me at the river, having never met them before. She could tell that from Poor Me's point of view he could do nothing right with any attempt, and that left Our Bum sitting alone sullen, drinking the whole time. I'd never tell him to abandon his responsibilities but there's no reason he should spend his life miserable. I know they love each other, it doesn't mean it's a healthy relationship.

That brings us to the current houseguest, I think I'll start calling him Ketchup, simply for his love of the stuff. We all know how that's going. He's been sitting here the whole time I have been writing. By the way, the staying up most of the day to sleep during when was most inconvenient to me, yeah, that was on purpose. He'd bitch about sleeping the day away and it was all on purpose. Thanks.

Ketchup currently has no local friends and though he has a job, he went from five days a week, down to four, and now it's only three nights a week. No offense, but I am getting tired of looking at him. I want more alone time, I want more one on one time with the hubby. My Doppelganger suggested withholding sex from the hubby to get what I want, got to say that's kind of hard when the lack of privacy is withholding it from both of us and he's not the only one to have noticed. Shape up or ship out? Ketchup's got no where to go and we aren't the type of people to let that go unnoticed even despite the current living conditions. Damn, huh?

Tomorrow is payday, as I said before, it should be very telling. Tonight, alone with the hubby, I can't wait.

So there is the fabulous history of us and roommates, conviently placed in a babbling, incoherent novel form. I hope you enjoyed the read, that is if you made it all the way to the end of this amazingly long post. It may make you think twice about how easy or difficult it is to live with people, and learn to live with them and perhaps learn that they weren't who you thought they were at all and even that sometimes relationships can't survive the strain. Sad, frustrating, infuriating at times and yet equally eye opening and enjoyable at others. I miss some of the friends I've lost through this whole process, probably Keanu most, but I don't regret the knowledge I've gained from these experiences, the things I'll carry with me, even if all those things aren't worth carrying. I bet the confrontations with Keanu tinted the way I'd rather not confront others since. He taught me that friends don't always make good roommates. Mr. Fix It's other life was screaming at us in a tiny voice, he taught us to pay attention to that voice and make sure you know what you are getting into before getting into it. String Bean taught us that when you put someone in a completely different situation then they are used to, they can become a completely different person then you knew. Poor Me taught me that I'd rather not live with girls, they are high maintenance and I'd rather not be invited to another pity party. Our Bum taught us we can remain friends with someone who leached off us for a year with no reciprocation. Ketchup... I'm still trying to figure out what he's teaching me, except perhaps patience and tolerance, both of which I guess are things I need to work on though I'm not sure obligation is the right way to go about it. It's all knowledge and I soak it up. I guess this is where the phrase "student of the people" works it's way in.

Okay, I think I'm done. Do your eyes burn? Mine do.

Intermission

After a short trek out yesterday to pay a couple bills, we rented a few games, and that is what has been flickering on our television since. I guess not the most interesting way to pass time, nor a very interesting topic to post about (for most anyway) but oh well. It's my life and I am getting used to the idea of being boring, ha!

On the houseguest front, not much has changed except for the fact that I may actually be loosing more footing around here. The hubby just is no where near as bothered as I am, and it sounds like he doesn't believe I heard what I heard. Lighter flick, pause, cough. Really? He gets a playmate, I get an ulcer, that seems fair.

Bare with me here, my birth control shot is only a week away from being due, which means if I am usually over sensitive, you should see me now. At least it's once every three months instead of every month, I am sure the hubby thanks his lucky stars for it.

Short post, I know, but the boys want me to play Halo 3. If only I could claim to whip their asses at it, but I can't unless an extreme streak of luck hits mid-game. I take satisfaction in every kill though. Every girl needs a hobby, right?

Meow

Hey, lookie there, my sixtieth post. Let's not spoil it by complaining about the same thing I have in my most recent posts and complain about something completely new!

I know I have mentioned on multiple occasions one of my neighbors, Tall's Ex, considering she always finds new ways to irritate me why wouldn't I paint a pretty picture of her here. For the sake of separating her from the idea of Tall I will start calling her Li'l Mama. (Twenty with a kid, it works.) Li'l Mama is the one I bitched about stating on her MySpace that she felt sorry for anyone who smoked anything and less then a week later was spied smoking a clove.

Well, on to the newest irritation. She got a cat. Doesn't seem like a big deal, right? How about some back story. When she got knocked up and moved in her baby's daddy in, she had two cats, he is terribly allergic and she was getting tired of them (they were going into heat a lot and she didn't want to pay to get them fixed) so they got rid of them. Two of the sweetest cats, indoor mind you, she drove out to Tall's family farm and abandoned them. Yeah, I bet they faired well with all of the feral cats out there. She couldn't be bothered to find them a decent home. How careless is that? So, why with an infant and an allergic boyfriend would she get a cat? It dawned on me a little while after finding out about it, she had recently done a survey on MySpace saying she was ready to have another baby but her boyfriend wasn't. Duh, in comes a cat. I wonder what's going to happen if her baby turns out to be allergic like dad is, for that matter, I wonder how dad is going to manage it.

Oddly enough, my hubby is allergic to cats. However through age and just getting used to our cats, it isn't nearly as bad as it used to be, he has other allergies that are worse. I worry about what I would do if it turns out our kids inherit his allergies. When he was little, he was even allergic to Christmas trees, I don't know if I could handle a fake tree dammit, let alone have to get rid of my cats. Certainly humans should take president over four legged furry things, but they are my kids too! Oh the horror!

So I don't necessarily wish Li'l Mama ill will when it comes to this new addition to their family, but after she basically threw away her last pets, I can only feel sorry for it and only hope that it finds a good home, whether it be with Li'l Mama or not.

Question: When you aren't crazy about someone, let's just say a neighbor, is it easier to play nice, say hi and plaster that fake smile on or just not bother with any effort even if it kind of makes you look like a bitch?

On a side note, if my posts seem limited over the next few days, it's because my next moment of alone time won't be coming around until Thursday evening. The houseguest has the next four days off and the hubby has Monday and Tuesday off. I'll probably be able to spend time on the computer though. Hell, this opportunity came because they have spent the last hour and a half talking about work. Yes, I am pretty sure they know I'm here, the click of the keys on the keyboard probably give me away pretty well.

Anyway, I'll be back, you know I will. Happy sixtieth!

Time Consumption

I didn't really have time for a post yesterday and I don't have time for a long post right now... here's why.

Yesterday, the houseguest didn't head to sleep until about one thirty in the afternoon, thanks mostly to the 360. Meaning, I got about an hour in the living room before heading back to the bedroom so the houseguest could sleep. Not much Blogger time. I let the guy sleep and took a small nap myself simply to pass time and was going to start passing back and forth in front of him to get to the kitchen, time for him to get up and I still had shit to do. Just as I am about to get up, the hubby walks in the door, off early.

So, my day completely wasted, what did the evening hold? Tall and Sassy came over. Apparently Sassy was begging him to do so, never thought she'd have to beg him to come over, I guess I figured if there was any begging involved it would be him to her. Anyway, the houseguest left for work, our little punk rocker friend stopped by, Tall and Sassy finally showed then Hairy and his buddy stopped by. Small living room, lot of people, hardly the time to blog.

Very, very slowly people filed out, too sleepy to keep going past one in the morning. When it was just down to us and Tall and Sassy, finally I had access to my computer. Sassy was drifting but I was determined to complete my goal. I had Tall sign into Sassy's email so I could accept my invitation for her to blog with me. I set the whole thing up for her so let's see if she actually posts! Not only will it be interesting but I think it will be good for her.

Today, I wake up to the houseguest watching television, I guess he hasn't figured out how to switch the inputs to play the 360 yet. I'm up now of course, blogging, and he still hasn't slept. In about an hour and a half I will sulk back to my bedroom as he finally decides to get some sleep so he can work again tonight. Sigh.

I can't wait for next Friday, payday, for both the hubby and the houseguest. It will be very telling about how this whole thing will play out in the future and hopefully I'll feel better about it all. I know part of my issue is just learning to live with a new person. It's never easy. It was at least easier with our last houseguest (or bum, it's more suiting for him, heh) because he hung out with us a lot for a couple years before ending up on our couch. I knew all the little things that were annoying about him, as well as knew what I could (for lack of a better word) "fix" about him to make co-existing easier.

All I know is this schedule is going to get harder and harder to deal with so I am going to have the hubby speak to the houseguest about trying a little harder to sleep when we are sleeping. I don't like having to be the one who suffers. I take no satisfaction in being a martyr for this cause while the hubby basically just gets another boy to play with.

Time to roast a bowl or two before the hubby has to start getting ready for work. Always the best way to start a day! Plus it will help with that lovely time consuming nap I am going to be trying to take later. Is it bad that I miss my chores?

Me Time

Half hour, forty-five minutes at the most. That's how much alone time I am going to get today, and it's the first since Sunday. In three hours and fifteen minutes, it's me time. Yes, I am counting down the minutes.

The houseguest currently lays asleep on the couch, merely ten feet away. It's not easy to try and type quietly. No new irritations to talk about really, knock on wood. I moved the stash and he hasn't said a word. Good. He still seems to get more use our of our 360 then we do, staying up all night to play then sleeping all day to limit the free reign of my own house. He even told someone that "we" rented a game, not "they" (the hubby and I) rented a game. Over four hundred bucks invested and not one red cent his, I hope in the future he remembers that. Oh yeah, I figured out a way for him to no longer steal my glory on video games. (Something I am sure he is still oblivious to.) I got my own gamertag. My own name to save stuff under instead of the hubby's. The houseguest can do whatever he wants to the hubby's account, but he better not touch mine. If he screws me again, I don't think I will be able to keep quiet about it, and really, why should I? With "Mrs." in the name, I'd hope that would discourage him anyway. I already have more gamerpoints then Tall, hell yeah!

Fluent in MySpace and CraigsList but dyslexic when it comes to anything else computer related, Sassy still hasn't made any effort towards our joint blog. I may have to wait until she comes over and set it up for her. Blogger isn't that difficult dammit, but then again, this girl didn't know what Amazon.com was until a few months ago when I told her. (Which unfortunately for Tall led to her discover eBay and brand name purses at discount. Brand name purses? Really? I think I have only ever used ones I made myself.)

Down to three hours now!

All this build up, you would think I had something interesting planned for my me time. Vacuuming is hardly interesting unless you know something I don't.

The houseguest is the hubby's relief at work, again, hence my alone time. It's the little window between when the houseguest leaves and the hubby gets home. It's me and the hubby's first night alone since Saturday, can you guess what that means? I'm guessing I don't have to tell you, ha! I know, I know, too much information. Like I've said before, I hang around guys too much, it seems almost obligatory to make certain kind of jokes. So a priest, a rabbi and a republican walk into a bar...

On a final note here, I'm so glad to have my doppelganger back! I missed you so! I hope you enjoy my new blog and get a good insight into Sassy once she finally posts. Oh yeah, and hi to Uncle Chuck! So nice to see you visiting every so often and not being scared away for one reason or another. I have readers! I'm so proud. My little blog circle of friends. It gives me purpose I tell ya!

Love you all!
(Yay! Just over two and a half hours to go!)

I Need My Band Aid

Oh dear doppleganger! I went to visit the equally safe haven of your blog and I hit a roadblock, not invited! Oh how it saddened me! Am I no longer allowed? I miss you already my dear! Hope you are doing well!

Some Girl Time

Sassy and I did some chatting yesterday.

With all of the different forms of communication out there, MySpace messaging is where our conversation took place. Regardless of how the conversation started, she mentioned first that she had felt unwanted in our presence. Blink. I had to respond with it felt the other way around. I finally stated that we felt like this old boring married couple that they didn't want to hang out with anymore. She said I couldn't be more wrong. We are the most grounded people she knows and basically she'd go insane without us.

Then the conversation moved to Tall and their difficulties. She's been pushing the marriage topic with him and he's shutting down. Really? I'm not surprised. He's twenty and he's no where near ready to go that direction, especially considering his ex and him were basically pushed into a similar situation due to family pressure. At this point he doesn't know if he ever wants to get married. Duh, he's still young. You really think my hubby always had marriage in mind? We made that commitment when it was right for us and we were ready. Nothing forced, no pressure. Probably why we are still married. She said we were an inspiration, I told her it was dumb luck. Our houseguest was divorced by like twenty-one, proof it can go either way.

I'm trying to teach her to go with the flow, to enjoy now but it's a lesson slow to learn. I decided to try and give her a good kick in a direction that may help. Oh dear blog, I hope you don't think I am cheating on you for this, but I started another blog, co-written with Sassy and based on relationships. I won't be posting the link here or anything, because I'd rather keep these two worlds divided, but that's not to say my reader(s) here aren't welcome to view my new little girly playground, as long as you respect my privacy in the sense that Sassy doesn't need to know about this little blog haven of mine. Sound fair? Just ask and I'll send you in the right direction. I'm just trying to teach her the value of a good vent to get things off your chest. Take it out on the blog and not the boy, that just may be lesson number one.

I'm not sure what it is. Is it that I need a project? Am I craving some estrogen in this sea of testosterone? Is she just my friend and I want to help her? I'm not sure why I'm making the effort. Maybe it will work and it will all be worth it, heh. Talking to Sassy yesterday made her feel better, that's always good and I guess it makes me feel better too, let's see if I can keep it going.

Loosing My Footing

Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

First off, yes, the stash has been moved, different room and tucked away.

Second, no, it doesn't look like the hubby is going to say a word to the houseguest about it.

Third, I'm the one who is starting to feel like a guest.

I don't have time for a long post, we are going out to lunch with the hubby's mom followed by finishing up our grocery shopping.

We invited Tall to dinner last night, he was busy of course. We invited him for dinner tonight, he said sure. We said "wow, really?" He said "don't push it." Don't push it? What? Does he think he is doing us a favor by eating our food? Sigh.

If you can't tell, I'm feeling kind of depressed. The hubby asks what's wrong. Besides the obvious? Not much, thanks.

Off to lunch.

Lighter Flick, Pause, Cough.

As if to pour salt in yesterday's wound, again this morning I awoke at seven in the morning. No sane person should be awake this early unless required to, I am not required to. Besides the now typical snoring at my side, can you guess what I heard?

Lighter flick, pause, cough.

Before I continue, let me say this. A few days ago, the houseguest asked if we could leave him a little "gift" for when he got off in the morning. We obliged, lovingly leaving two cigarettes, the 360 all set up for him and a loaded bong. Two days we did that, and then yesterday happened, and put together with scheduling issues left the houseguest with only nine hours in between shifts: So we decided to not set up the 360 for him (the inputs on our television are screwy and he hasn't learned them yet) and left him a single cigarette and no loaded bong, hoping he would take the hint and get some sleep while he had the time.

Lighter flick, pause, cough.

We keep our extra weed on a shelf beneath the coffee table, and until this morning, I have never had any concerns about anyone sneaking into our stash. That stash is supposed to last two weeks, and we had basically just gotten done telling the houseguest that we had been running a little short because of the extra person.

Lighter flick, pause, cough.

I laid wide eyed staring at the ceiling for roughly an hour and a half.

Lighter flick, pause, cough.

I have the feeling that he turned on the television, realized it wasn't set up for him, turned it off instead of watching the cartoons it was auto tuned to, and got bored. Is that really any excuse to smoke someone's weed without asking? In this situation isn't it basically biting the had that feeds you?

He doesn't contribute enough yet to take those kind of liberties, I don't know if he could. He's been here just over two weeks. In that time he bought us a bottle of vodka and a carton of cigarettes (for me, and for him apparently.) In that time, because of his added help, we have gone through four cartons. He has not helped anywhere else yet, simply because he hasn't gotten paid yet from his new job. Wouldn't you consider that living on our dime? Why would he think it's okay to just help himself to our weed?

Lighter flick, pause, cough.

To make matters just that much worse, the hubby though seeing my side doesn't seem to want to say or do anything about it. When I realized what the houseguest was doing I told the hubby. Granted he was half asleep but his response was basically "I can't do anything about it now" before rolling over and going back to sleep. Unfortunately, I kind of think it will never come up with the houseguest.

Again I'm left to wonder if I am a bitch over reacting or if it's something else. The hubby's fear of confrontation? Maybe the fact that the hubby has known the houseguest for years longer then he's known me? Is it the true belief that the houseguest didn't know any better? I have a hard time believing that. The hubby never thinks anything is done on purpose, or maliciously.

I'm not saying the houseguest has ever acted out of malice but is it too much to ask for courtesy? Houseguest, the important part being "guest." Yes this is the only place he has to call home right now, but he is still a guest in someone else's home!

Lighter flick, pause, cough.

It's frustrating to sit here upset and know there is basically nothing I can do about it. Last night the hubby and I were talking. He wasn't doing much to back me up, he said he knew it sounded that way. I get upset, he gets upset. He wants me to tell him when something bothers me, when I do, I've noticed that he's getting defensive and it's causing him to say something rude. (Sorry hunny, I know you are the only one in my life ever likely to read this.) "Well I didn't mean it that way, it's not like I..." followed by something a little out there. A couple weeks ago we were out shopping with his mom and we basically lost her. If you knew his mom, you wouldn't be surprised. Well, standing out by her car in the parking lot, it came down to a decision, would I rather stand out by the car and wait or go inside and look for her. I didn't like my choices, I let the hubby know this much. Blah, blah, blah and it was "it's not like I am trying to get away from you!" Wow. Thanks. My mind hadn't gone there, but thanks. (Again, sorry for complaining about you baby.) No offense, but I'm starting to get the urge to just keep my mouth shut, an unhealthy alternative for all of us.

I complain, I'm a bitch. I get offended, I'm over reacting, I cry and I'm being melodramatic.

Lighter flick, pause, cough.

It's even been stated between the hubby and I, in a very "as a matter of fact" way, that with his schedule (swing) and the houseguest's schedule (graveyard) that I get to be the one to suffer. It's an inevitability. I kind of just wonder how much suffering it's going to entail. I feel like it's a month from now, when I'm due for a birth control shot and my hormones will be all out of wack. I'm ticked off and frustrated, I want to cry.

Today I am alone. Thank fucking god. I needed to be here and vent. I needed the quiet. I needed the houseguest out of my way for a day. I hope the hubby takes advantage of working alone with the houseguest today to actually say something, but I'm not holding my breath for it.

Oh yeah, more insult to injury. Tall hasn't graced us with his presence in a couple days. The hubby stated it very bluntly, "we are boring." Great, that's all and good, but then why is Tall just sitting home being more boring then us? He went out and bought a 360 as well (just can't let us have a little bragging rights, can ya?) and has even been playing Halo 3 the last couple nights. He doesn't even seem to want to play with us. He'll play forever without inviting us and when we finally join or invite him, he says he's leaving to go watch a movie. (We're talking old lame movies too dammit.) Are we the fucking plague? Acknowledgement would be nice you know. There's a word that suits Tall perfectly sometimes, I really prefer not saying it but if you have heard me talk about him, I'm sure you could come up with it too.

Oh yeah, just to prove everything is heading in the right direction (written with extreme sarcasm) we no longer have enough money stashed away to move. The bills just keep coming and the hubby's raise was shit. I can only hope that after the houseguest begins to contribute that we will be able to beef that fund back up. I don't know how much longer I can handle the lack of privacy and conflicting schedules. (In a way it makes me miss our last houseguest. He never had a job in the year he was living here, he had no schedule.) Sooner or later the landlord is going to charge us for the houseguest, and gee, put that together with the rent increase coming next month and everything is just dandy!

My turn. Lighter flick, pause, cough.

Our little punk rocker friend was supposed to stop by nearly two hours ago but he still hasn't called. I think I will take that as a sign that I should take a nap. Any objections? Yeah, didn't think so. G'night!


P.S. Sorry for the increase in swearing recently, I've been hanging around too many boys. Let's hope I relearn how to censor myself before visiting grandma, eh?

Disregarded

I learned at an early age that I was the one who should be inconvenienced, I was the one who was wrong. For example, the family would order pizza with a whole bunch of stuff on it, I only liked olives, pepperoni and cheese, it was my responsibility to pick off what I didn't like, because I was the one who was wrong.

This morning, I was inconvenienced. Seven in the morning, I had only been asleep for four hours at this point, I wake up. Not only is the typical snoring of the hubby ringing through my ears, but the houseguest who had gotten off work an hour before, was now playing Halo 3, with the stereo on. There is no door between the living room and the bedroom. "Chief! Chief! Move 'em out!" The Halo theme playing as clear as a bell. To make it worse, instead of starting his own game, he decided to continue on with the one I devoted four hours to yesterday. Gee, not like I wanted to play my own game or anything.

For three hours I listened to a mix of snoring and explosions. The hubby waking up for just long enough to ask me what was wrong before rolling over and resorting to snores again. Ten till ten and he sets the controller down, smokes some of MY weed, finally turns off MY 360 and goes to sleep. By this point, I basically have to stay up because another hour and I have to play alarm clock for the hubby. I was frustrated to the point of tears.

Of course the hubby doesn't get it, any of it. "You could have just gone out and turned the stereo down." "You know you can go back and play through those levels on Halo." Really? Not the fucking point. Maybe I was fucking proud of myself for going as far as I did on my own, earning those achievements was kind of trumped by him and I didn't even get to see it happen.

I finally get back to sleep around two, after the hubby had left for work. It was an unsatisfying sleep. I woke up at five, the houseguest again playing the 360, different game this time at least. And the shocking part? He didn't even bother to turn on the stereo. Seven in the morning, turn it up but late afternoon? Nah, might as well finally be considerate, huh? After I finally ventured out into MY living room, all of thirty seconds went by before he bummed a cigarette. I'm irritated.

Don't get me wrong, I know I am being overly sensitive, I always am, but isn't my annoyance at least partially justified? Now I have to figure out what to do for the next three and a half hours before he leaves for work. Yay for me, right? I wish I could go back to sleep.

Finally, My Dear Fruit Loops!

Can you believe I didn't get around to my precious fruit loops until just now? I have been eating horribly lately. Pretty much just dinner, and that's dinner roughly around midnight and I find it highly doubtful that I am getting all if any the nutrition I need. On the plus side, when you have three drinks with no food over the last twenty four hours, you get a pretty decent buzz. Even with all the weed I smoke I haven't succumbed to the munchies, poor me. It's not a weight thing, I swear, it's an effort thing. When I think about it, I don't want to, when I'm willing, I really don't feel like eating. I'm getting really tired of this cycle. Someone send the gods of Subway to feed me! Mm... Subway.

(Sorry for the short post, kinda busy doing the housewife thing and entertaining the houseguest. I hate having to vacuum around people's feet!)

Fruit Loops

To my blog and my faithful reader(s?) I promise I haven't forgotten you! Part of me just hasn't had the time or the privacy to dedicate the effort I want to, to pouring my heart out here. The other part is flighty and distracted and dammit I got a new toy to play with which results in hours of non blinking and cramped thumbs. (The XBox 360 for those of you with dirty minds.)

Put together our new addiction with the houseguest's varied new work schedule (transitioning from training to graveyard) and sleep has been a valuable commodity around here. The other night we didn't all crash until after six in the morning and got up at one in the afternoon to do it all again. I'm due for a nap.

Here's all the top updates over the last couple days:

Tall and Sassy, have you guessed it already? After breaking up a few days ago, they are of course back together again. Honestly I can't say I'm happy. I can pretty much swear to you that they didn't fix anything and here before too long we all will be playing his game again. I bet if they just sorted out some of their individuality issues they could truly be a good couple that could be in it for the long haul. Until then I really can only see them repeating this pattern, each time escalating until they eventually do some irreparable damage to their relationship and have no choice but to give up. Personally I am not looking forward to watching option number two play out but what am I supposed to do about it?

Hairy (and sometimes Prissy) have been hanging out more. More time on their schedules causes them to notice our front door rather then walk past it five times a day without looking up. For the moment anyway it seems like Prissy has loosened up some, that is just awesome in my book. This girl occasionally seems to have the word "bitch" flashing red on her forehead, I haven't seen the glow recently so either we're safe or it's the calm before the storm. Heh, only time will tell.

The houseguest and I are getting along fine. I was a little concerned at first simply because we kind of didn't know each other that well. It's not too bad. Monday night he worked graveyard, leaving the hubby and I home alone. I'll leave this story here under the much needed restriction of too much information for your tender ears. :o)

Payday is coming up and it's going to be a tight one, I'm not looking forward to it. The hubby's last check had included his raise but still ended up being smaller then it had been in months, so I am wary about this upcoming one. The houseguest's added income won't come into affect until the payday after next. When it happens it will be awesome, until then I'm probably going to be needing some Tums.

I finally made those butterscotch cookies I kept talking about. Real simple, just take your basic chocolate chip cookie recipe and use the butterscotch chips instead. I added a small bag of coconut and a cup of oats. The result? There is now only one left. Apparently they were damn good. I love that people love my cookies. Next? Probably peanut butter cookies with Reese's peanut butter chips. I have a great recipe around here somewhere dangit...

Sorry, as usual, I started my morning with a little bit of the green stuff, meaning cookies sound really friggin' good right now. Oo, I'm pretty sure I have fruit loops in there somewhere, yay breakfast! (Yes, breakfast past noon, it's a wonderful thing isn't it?)

We took about a quarter of our old unused original XBox games in for trade towards some XBox 360 games. Surprisingly the lot fetched roughly eighty bucks in trade and we got five new games to play, yay us! I am certainly going to miss the prices that came with buying original XBox games, deals like three for ten bucks are hard to pass up. The cheapest of the new games we got was fifteen. That will greatly hinder the speed in which our collection increases.

I got a new (new to me anyway) Barenaked Ladies cd the other day, (we got them to throw it in with all the games.) I don't recognize any of the song titles but it's them so I bet it's good.

Oh yeah! We pretty much figured out why the oldest of my kids- er, I mean cats, keeps spraying by the front door. Looks like one of the old neighbor's unfixed cats started spraying right outside our door. They were outside cats that she decided to make indoors and let wander the shared hallway between our apartments. I guess they smelled our cats and wanted to mark their territory. Unfortunately it's all old wood out there, how do you make it go away then? I keep bleaching the wall and floor just outside our door but so far the problem hasn't resolved itself. I'd try the stuff that is supposed to discourage your cats from peeing in certain spots if that stuff didn't actually attract my cats to those spots even more. All the more reason to move, a fresh start so to say?

And no, still no update on moving. Yeah, it sucks.

A friend had to kill a wasp in the apartment the other day. I seriously hid in the bathroom until it was gone. I just can't deal with that sort of thing at all. It's pure adrenaline, I freak out. The definition of a phobia is an unreasonable fear, I think this more then qualifies. I hate summers because of winged bastards, I'm not proud of it. Sometimes when my paranoia is bad enough I need the hubby to check the windows before he leaves, make sure there is no open holes or little critters lurking and waiting for me to be home alone. I even hate ladybugs. Who hates ladybugs for goodness sakes? Crawling and wings and legs and ugh. It makes me shudder just thinking about it. Last summer I had to have Tall's ex (who was about eight months pregnant at the time) come kill some huge ugly bug for me. I admire the way she handled it, she didn't make fun of me for knocking on her door all panicked and shaking. She even offered to throw it away in her own garbage so it wouldn't be in mine. Even when I feel like smacking her, I am still grateful for that moment.

It all seems uneventful but seriously this is the first time I've really been able to sit down and devote some time to a post. I need to realize that it doesn't have to be a chapter, a small post every now and then isn't a sin against the Blogger gods. I'm sure I could even think of some more things to babble about here but you know, breakfast still sounds pretty damn good. See ya!