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!