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| That was surreal! The move that took forever! I finally got in the new place, it's tiny but clean and my landlord is a dear so for now, I'm happy. The only drawback is the heat. I'm on the top floor of a house and I have cathedral ceilings so it gets unlivable on days when there is genuine record breaking heat & humidity. I'd get an air conditioner but I do believe my landlord had specific windows installed so nobody could install air conditioning ... they're too small. I have have yet to find anything that would fit.
I need to contact my sister but I'm not looking forward to it. For all i know my mom has already died. Last I heard (just after my phone and Internet were cut off and I left to stay with a friend) I got a letter telling me my mom was on borrowed time, my niece was in rehab and my nephew was being sent to Iraq in June. She had a friend in Toronto come hunt me down to tell me to get in touch with her ... I wanted to wait until I was in a better position (quite frankly now that I am, I'm still taking my sweet time in contacting her because I'm not interested in hearing all over again, how angry I make her among other things) I don't want her to have my new number so I may write to her with a PO Box.
I would like to have seen my mother one last time, but if she is already gone she will know everything I feel and the truth of everything that happened over the last few years anyway. After my sister brought my mom to the states to live with her, my sister realized it was to be far more difficult than she had anticipated and my mom was sent to a nursing home in Quebec after being with my sister for less than a month. I'm not sure why my sister would've assume it would ever be easy for me to pick up and visit my mom all the way in Quebec (I figured in the US she at least had my sister by her side) so I resigned myself to having lost my mom the day she got in the car and left with Wendy but once she was moved to Quebec, that resignation haunted me. Part of me doesn't want to deal with Wendy simply because I don't want to be goaded into a game of let's fight with Whitney because she feels guilty (doesn't matter if the guilt is justified or not) - Like the letter she'd sent me (the one I posted here on Xanga) that was all about her guilt at being angry with my mom (they were fighting and she was having a lot of trouble caring for her and knew she was thinking about sending her away) I knew it then ... and I know that's exactly how it'll be now. I just don't want to play.
William is a real handful now - he's still a pretty good kid at heart but he's yelling at me a lot *he's hot and tired when he gets home, so I get yelled at *he's angry at a friend, so I get yelled at *he wants to go out someplace, I ask him to call me so I know he's okay, and I get yelled at *his hair is dirty and tangled and hurts when he brushes it, so of coarse ... I get yelled at and I'm getting really tired of being a whipping post. He's lucky I remember what a bloody nightmare puberty is, otherwise I'd have ripped his fucking head off weeks ago.
The cut has turned into an ugly scar ... and I put on about 40 lbs prior to moving.
In the past 2 weeks however (thanks to the sauna-esque conditions of my home) I've lost 6 lbs ... only 34 (more) to go!
Sooooo, how the hell are YOU? | | |
| It's crunch time! I'm supposed to be moving in the next 72 hours and I'm not even packed yet! lol - That's not as bad as it sounds since I never really got to move in here ... remember, everything I have as far as furniture is still in storage (I was forced to keep it there because of all the crap left here for me to baby sit) although there is still a bunch of personal effects I'm sure it's nothing one good day of packing won't set straight. The BIG issue is where I'm going! I still don't have an apartment to move IN to!!!
There is one place I'm going to look at this afternoon, but I'm not looking forward to it since it will no doubt be a wreck! The women who lived above me (who William and I really got along well with and were sorry to see leave) phoned me that same month they'd left telling me there was a basement apartment available where they moved to but the landlord had been fighting to get rid of the present tenants for non payment of rent. They said they should be out soon and they told him about me and my situation. They said the landlord would be willing to take $600 a month inclusive, without first and last and it's with the understanding that it's temporary since I really just want time to find the perfect place (I'm waiting for a specific apartment to become available in my friend Johns building - a 1 bedroom *with den* for 500 inclusive!!) anyway, the girls kept me informed regarding the apartment for a couple of months & I figured living there for a while would give me the chance to save some cash while waiting for the other place to come up - eventually, last month her landlord finally got the sheriff in there to kick the door down and get those scum bags out - I'm told the door is presently still sitting off it's hinges (which means the place has been open to whom and what ever for weeks) now I don't know about you guys but that tells me 2 things, that the apartment is going to be a nightmare! A filthy, run down health hazard at best! I doubt they'll even be able to get it together within the next 72 hours - it also screams a warning about the landlord since the old tenants have been out for a least 2-3 weeks (and the door is still sitting off the hinges?) what kind of a landlord pushes to evict someone, knows the door is kicked in and no doubt, since they left disgruntled, the place is probably trashed, but leaves it all as is ... knowing full well that someone is looking to move in? I've not bothered to go by and see it because Gabriel kept me abreast of the sitch and I assumed they'd be working to clean it up ... I would go by once it was at least presentable ... but after phoning her last night (I was supposed to go see it but still felt week after my bout with stomach flu this week) I told her to ask the landlord if it would be okay for me to come by tomorrow (today) and she told me it wouldn't matter either way because since the door is kicked in, I would be able to look at it anyway - I can't tell you just how much dread that 1 sentence filled me with . What the hell is this guy thinking?! I'd rather pay the extra $250. rent plus $375. storage if it means staying out of a bug infested shit hole. I'd pay the $625 extra to live in a clean house with an insane landlord I'm familiar with for one last month (and find someplace else to wait it out) than to save $600 and live in filthy squalor with roaches and the unfamiliar insanity of a slumlord I don't know!
Boy, I hope any of the above made sense, it's 6am and I'm panic ranting - this isn't good! lol
I guess I'll find out just how bad my sitch is, tomorrow. Wish me luck ... | | |
| **wound update**
so you aren't too concerned, I was really careful to wash it as soon as it happened, with soap and water then I let it bleed freely to allow it to clean itself out. Once I was done soaking up the contents *ooh, that sounds delicious doesn't it?* I literally poured hydrogen peroxide over it and in it, which is probably why the skin around it looks so distressed and blotchy. Then I allowed it to dry. Later that evening I washed it again with an antibacterial gel and that's when I took the photo. I did phone my doctor today and told her what I'd done and how I cared for it and she said I'd done wonderfully and that even if I wanted to - it was too late for stitches. Luckily I heal really quickly. For all my years of past nastification, thankfully I've no scars to show for it which is really quite amazing. Most of the people I knew weren't/aren't so lucky. Track marks - also not a look you want to shoot for while wearing an evening gown (hehehe, shoot for / track marks - shoot for ... get it?) *groans* ya ya, okay ... I suck
So it's the 23'rd and I've still no idea where I'm moving to. I only know I'm out of here at the end of the month. I gave my notice back in November after the landlord moved back into the house - for the second time since I'd moved in - and threatened to have my car towed if I didn't give up the parking spot to him. It was the second time we'd had that same argument. No matter how many times I explained it to him - that he could not list an apartment with a parking spot, rent it - then decide at whim to take it away - he just wouldn't listen. By his account, he owned the house and therefore had the right to do as he pleased. Idiot! Anyway, given all the "little" things that were wrong, "big" things that went wrong and the insanity that was my landlord, it was the best thing to do. I just wish I had the perfect place to move to. My wish is to find the home I can die in. I want to live somewhere and honestly say I'm happy here and I'm never going to move again!! The only thing that would make me change my mind might be an unforeseeable future event that would give me the money to purchase a home of our own ... something that I could work on leisurely (a fixer-upper) during my remaining years. It would give me a project to keep me busy and happy, best of all I would have something to leave to William!
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| Didn't mean to take so long getting my ass back here to post - again
I'm a little nerve wracked as I'm preparing to move - again
and last night I went and cut myself. I'm a little concerned that this is going to leave an ugly, nasty looking scar. At the time I didn't think the wounds needed stitches, but now I'm looking at the smaller one and the gap is a little large, plus it's been almost 24 hours and it's still bleeding a little. I just dread sitting in emerg. for hours on end, so I figured I'd live with the ugly scar. It's not like I have anyone to impress, I'll just have to stay away from sleeveless evening gowns for the rest of my life. LOL
kind of swollen, but rather lovely isn't it ...?
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| Yesterday, while reading a comment left by Sean (who by the way is a wonderful story teller, you should check out his blog), I was reminded of a funny story ...
My father and I were out for a drive one sunny afternoon - my father died in 1990 so this was back in the early 80's when cars were actually impressive and young boys took a special pride in their "muscle cars". Anyone who went to high school in the early 70's - early 80's would remember them and the penchant for racing these machines at the drop of a hat. My father's car was in the garage at the time and he was driving a loaner. A close friend of my fathers, an ad exec, was selling his Jaguar and offered my father the use of it until his own car was fixed since the loaner was questionable at best. Typically my father would never borrow a car and typically this wasn't the sort of car my father went in for ... he was always more the Lincoln Mach 4 type, the 2 seater sports cars just didn't do it for him - but for the hell of it, he took his buddy up on the offer. My father and I took special pleasure in long weekend outings. We'd go out in the car early Saturday morning and wouldn't return home till supper time. We'd done this from the time I was old enough to walk to the time I moved out and even in those years before he died I'd visit my parents on the weekend at least once a month so I could spend Saturday's with my father ... we loved it. Aaaanyway ...
That Saturday while driving about in the Jag, it just so happened we'd stopped at an amber light - a couple of teenage boys in a righteous Barracuda pulled up along side us. It was a thing of beauty I tell ya. There were plenty of cars behind us now and I only wish they hadn't done what they'd done next ... after winking at me the driver (while revving his engine) shouted out the window at my father ... "Hey old man, how about it?" My dad got 'that look' in his eye, then while revving his engine said {to me} with a grin ... "watch this". While they continued to shout out shit that I guess was suppose to intimidate my dad .... He made out like he was into racing this kid then purposely jumped the mark ... in doing so, he made the kid jump ahead - I assume in a panic to beat my dad. My dad put the car in reverse, pulling back over the line - the kids did the same, just as the light turned green and my dad hit the gas, just long enough to push the boys into making a split decision to race ahead .... but that's not what happened!
Because my dad had timed it perfectly, the boys had in fact panicked just enough to forget to put the car back into drive when they hit the gas ... and went plowing into the car BEHIND them!
My father, being the sort of guy that he was drove a short way up the street then pulled a U-turn and while driving past the accident he unrolled the window leaned out and took special pleasure in waving and smiling sweetly at the pair ...
ahhh, memories! | | |
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