Archive | July 2012

Decisions, decisions. I need help.

Here’s my dilemma.  Once we lose/sell the house, my sister will move back to our hometown.  I will be left with several options.  I can either:

  1. Move to our hometown with her, finding my own place of course, because I refuse to live with her and her animals ever again.  This might also give me the inspiration I need to finish my book, not to mention, the flood of memories that will undoubtedly come rushing back would be helpful.  The main con on this one, though, is that I would be entirely too close to my relatives and family for comfort.  I would have to buckle down, concentrate on the book, finish it and then get the hell out of town before I lose my mind.
  2. Stay here in Podunk, MS, keep working my little job, find a crappy little apartment, and have no social life at all.
  3. Move back to New Orleans, the place that I grew to really like, be with the people I miss, and find another job & an apartment there.
  4. Move elsewhere in this great country of ours.  I have never lived west of the Mississippi.  Maybe it’s time for a bigger change.
  5. Do nothing.  Avoid making a decision altogether, until the day comes when we are forced out of the house and I’m left with no other options other than to move with my sister and live with her again.  (This is not a valid option.  I’m just putting it on here so I will be forced to face the facts.)

Help me out here…please.  I’m begging.  I need some advice on this one.  Thanks!

Happy humping!

Sex in the shower

Our relationship was short-lived and mostly sexual in nature.  It had burst into my life unexpectedly, without pomp or circumstance.  Yet the sex was addictive and powerful.  It never failed to satisfy me.  It was the best sex I had ever had.  Orgasms came like waves, quick and powerful.

So how could I not be surprised and devastated to find out that it was suddenly over, without warning.  It was just…over.  Why?!  I could not find the answer.  The days following the end of our brief relationship were painful, frustrating, and confusing.  I tried, without success, to make things right again.  Nothing worked.  It was over.

I have since moved on, but I will never forget, nor will I ever give up on finding another.  I’m sure they sell them at Lowe’s or Home Depot or Wal-Mart or somewhere.  That was the best massaging shower head I’ve ever had.

So sad.

Happy humping (& massaging)!

Living in the Bermuda Triangle of Dating

I think I’ve moved right into the middle of the Bermuda Triangle of the dating world.  So not only is this tiny town one of the most boring and depressing places to live, it also causes one to lose any hope of ever having a decent dating life.  Since I’ve lived here a few specific things have caused me to believe this.

  1. The quality of men is well below average, and by “men” I refer to those in an age bracket of 18 to 55 and single (not separated or “it’s complicated”, whatever the hell that means).  I’m sure that for the women who have grown up here or in a 100 mile radius, the “quality” is just fine, but for someone like myself, it’s just not plausible to have a relationship with any of them.  The men here are either extreme rednecks, religious nuts, creepy in a “what are you hiding in your basement?” kind of way, or just your average meth-heads.
  2. The other things I’ve noticed is that even when I try to bring one in from out-of-town, the only one’s willing to come here to meet me are from here originally.  That’s a problem because even though they may really like me, once they mention me to their family or friends, they are warned to stay away, and they are never to be heard from again.  Evidently my father’s reputation follows me even in his absence.
  3. As I said above, the only men willing to come here are from here originally.  The ones in nearby cities that I’ve talked to seem to disappear before even meeting me.  I’ve had several men who I’ve talked to and thought might pan out into at the very least a promising date, but then they just…disappear.  Normally I wouldn’t find this odd.  It happens a lot in the online dating world, but not to all of them.  Even the ones who were eager to go out with me seem just vanish without a trace, and without reason or explanation.

So my dating efforts have come to a complete halt.  I decided not to waste any more of my time or energy on trying to meet someone here because I doubt very much that I’ll be here for much longer.  My sister and I have decided to give up the fight and just let the house go.  We can’t afford to keep it ourselves, and as usual, the Preacher isn’t helping any.  We gave it our best, but it’s just not going to ever work.  Unless we can sell the house and land within the next sixty days or so, the bank will foreclose and we will have to move out and move on.

Personally I’ll be so happy to get out of this house and this town before it sucks the life and joy completely out of me.  I’ve never lived in a more depressing, corrupt, dismal place.  To outsiders it may look like Mayberry meets Little House on the Prairie, but in all actuality it’s just the entrance to hell guarded over by corrupt, backstabbing, gossiping, hypocritical, right-wing, white-collar drug dealers and murderers.  Sound a little over dramatic?  I’m sure it does.  The truth is usually far worse than fiction though.

Happy humping!

Hiding the welcome mat.

Finally, my parents and little brother have gone back home, two states away, where they belong!  Mom & little brother were here for almost a month and in that time they just about drove my sister and I over the edge into insanity.  Thankfully we survived only slightly more insane than we already were prior to their visit.  I do love my  mother and little brother, but it’s true that “Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.” (Benjamin Franklin)  This rings especially true because my little brother seems to have a burping/farting problem.

I understand that it’s difficult for my parents to come back to the house that they built and the town where they lived for so many years, but if it’s so difficult then why come at all?  I’ll tell you why.  Because even though my sister and I are doing everything within our power to help them keep from losing the house while they try to sell it, including my sister trying herself to get financing so that she can buy it, they just don’t trust us.  My father, the Preacher, strategically planned his trip here to pick up my mother and brother, at the first of the month.  He used my birthday as an excuse, but that’s not the real reason.  He wanted to make sure that all the rent we collected from our tenants went toward the mortgage payment.

Just so you know, I’m OCD when it comes to my spreadsheets and Microsoft Money.  I update it daily and try to stay on top of every penny that we earn, spend, and all bills that are due/coming due.  My sister may be the business minded one, but I’m the analytical and practical one.  Together I think we make a pretty damn good team, although our plans don’t always turn out the way we had hoped.  At least we are trying.  Meanwhile the Preacher is sitting on his ass not doing a lot to help out, just waiting, expecting, demanding that she and I make the mortgage payments.  At one point he was ready to just hand the house over to the bank.  That’s what really confuses me.  If he doesn’t even care anymore, then why is he riding our asses nonstop about it?  Control.  It’s all about control I suppose.

I find it difficult to feel sorry for the Preacher, but I do feel for my mom.  I know she has tried her best to rein him in and make him see the light, but he seems to be forever stuck in a deep dark cave of self-pity.  I just pray that she and my little brother don’t have to suffer through all this much longer.  I hope he will get off his ass, get a job, any job or even disability which is what he should be on, and take care of them like he should.

My mother, bless her heart, has good intentions, but she managed to drive us crazy too.  Between her waking my sister up at 2 am, 3 am, and 5 am, to let the dogs out, and her getting up at 6 am to make her decaf coffee and start doing dishes, I thought I was going to have to sedate my sister a few times.  Mom has always had periods of insomnia, and since she was already awake, she thought that 3 am was the perfect time to vacuum and do other household cleaning.  She had no problem going into my sister’s room and vacuuming while sis was trying to sleep.  Sis HATED that, and still does.

I have to hand it to my mom though.  She’s put up with the preacher for many many moons, raised two very interesting daughters, is now raising a rambunctious six-year-old boy, and always manages to keep a smile on her face and love in her heart.  Although not perfect, she is amazing nonetheless.

The funniest thing mom did while she was here was when she found my sister’s bottle of Bahama Mama in the fridge door.  The Preacher is a former/recovering alcoholic, and therefore my parents have not had alcohol in their house in at least twenty-five years.  So one night she was cooking a roast, and found the bottle in the fridge.  She asked if I thought it would be good to put in with the roast, sort of like a marinade I suppose.  I laughed and told her it wasn’t wine, and I refused to let her use it.  (She has a long history of coming up with some interesting, and not so tasty dinner items.)  I guess she didn’t believe me so she opened it up and took a short sniff of it, and then a longer one.  Then she said, “That smells really good.  I guess if I can’t use it I can at least sniff it.”  Then she proceeded to take a very long whiff of it, all the while giggling like a school girl.  LOL

I am realizing that I haven’t written much about my mother, and I will have to rectify that very soon.  She’s so funny and sweet and her innocence just makes even funnier sometimes.  She has brought my sister & I to tears on many occasions laughing at the stuff she says and does.  Don’t worry, she laughs at herself too.  She is great when she laughs really hard.  She turns red, tears come streaming down her face and anyone can see what a beautiful person she really is.

So the welcome mat may be temporarily hidden, but it will be back out eventually and we will welcome them back with open arms.  No matter what, they’re our family and we love them.

Happy humping!