Tag Archive | Moving

Sibling Rivalries: The preacher’s daughters from hell.

As many of you may know, I love my sister.  We usually get along good enough and at times, we can make each other piss our pants laughing.  This is not one of those times.  I’m fighting the urge to take a Xanax just to calm my nerves and my temper now.  Instead, I choose Metallica and I write.

A few weeks ago Teacher came over to the house at about ten one night.  He had lessons that night and didn’t get done until about nine, so he made the hour drive to see me after he got done working.  Just that he made the effort to come see me when he didn’t have to was enough for me.  I was happy just to see him.

We had planned on hanging out for just a little while, maybe watching a movie, but things happen and we ended up having sex.  Now unfortunately, I didn’t realize how squeaky my bed is, and my sister was briefly able to hear it.  That pissed her off.  What pissed me off was that she wouldn’t even come out of her room to meet him when he got here in the first place.  Her major complaint other than the squeaky bed, was that he came over so late.  Well, not everyone is unemployed and sits on their ass or plays with horses all day like she does.  She doesn’t even bother to clean the house anymore.  It’s a disaster.

So anyway, the next day she made it a point to chastise me for having him over so late and for having sex in “her house.”  I think I’ve lived here long enough to say that it’s not just “her house.”  In fact it’s not even “our house.”  It’s my parents house, and soon to be the bank’s house.  So my sister better get off her ass and start packing and coming up with a plan before she ends up living with my parents again.

But, alas, I can’t tell her any of this because she refuses to listen to anyone.  She always thinks she’s right and knows it all.  Every time I make a mistake, she never fails to remind me of it a dozen times.  Yes, I know I’ve been a big ol’ hoe.  You don’t have to remind me of it every other day.  However, when she makes a mistake, she acts like it never happened.  Remember that time in the van where she fucked a stranger in the back seat and then swapped places with Horse Whisperer?  Yeah, me too.  We all know how ugly I can get when I lose my temper.  I don’t want that to happen again.

It’s very frustrating living with this type of person.  Maybe that’s why we’ve never lasted more than six months living together.  This is the first time that we’ve almost made it to a year, and if I was able to I would have moved out long ago.

Tonight I got home from work a little early.  She said that her and Little Bubba were going to meet a friend and asked if I wanted to come along.  They were going to do horse stuff so I said no.  About ten minutes after they left she sent me a text.

Sis:  “He needs to be gone before I get back.”

Me:  “What?” (Because honestly I had no idea why she would think he’d be coming over.)

Sis:  “I don’t want your bf there at night with [Little Bubba] there.”

Me:  He’s playing somewhere tonight & he’s not coming here. Stop being a bitch.”

Sis:  “Hell no.  I’m not being a bitch. You fucked that up.”

At this point I’m really confused.  Could she really still be upset about that night which was over three weeks ago??

Blah, blah, blah…

Sis:  “Great. Don’t bring him to the house.”

Me:  “I’m not.  It’s too embarrassing for anyone to see this mess.”

Evidently that shut her up because she didn’t say anything after that.

I just don’t understand what’s wrong with her.  She’s hated every man I’ve ever dated, even some that she never met.  She hated my ex-husbands too.  I have never treated her boyfriends the way she treats mine.  Granted, she hasn’t had that many, but still…I guess what it really comes down to is that she is a selfish, using, controlling bitch most of the time.  If she weren’t my sister, it would be very hard to love her.  I think Little Bubba is the only thing that keeps us from getting really nasty with one another sometimes.  Thank God for him.

I think that once I get another car and move out of here, and once she moves back to where my parents are, I will have to limit the amount of time that I spend with my family.  All they do is make me angry and depressed.  I can’t live with that in my life anymore.  I’m moving on to better and happier times, with or without my family.

Yeah, I know.  It’s another one of my declaration posts.  Well, it’s either that or I go downstairs and start throwing her stuff in the yard and make a bonfire.  Hmmm…nah.

Happy humping!


Steel Magnolias No More

steel_magnoliasMy mother and aunt arrived here on a Thursday afternoon.  Fortunately for me I was at work when they arrived.  Unfortunately for my sister, she was here.  She said that they didn’t even make it into the house before they started their bitching.  First it was about all the stuff on the porch, then it was about the house being too messy, then it was about there being dishes in the sink.  (Just so you know, we cleaned before they got here, and the stuff on the porch is crap that we cleaned out to throw away.)  Once they looked in the refrigerator they started bitching about us not having any food.  (Again, we are on a budget, plus we’ve tried to eat healthier and veggies don’t keep forever you know.)  I’m sure that the lack of Little Debbie snacks and fat-filled crap made them think that they were going to starve before they could make it to the grocery store.  (Yet again, you should know that my aunt and mom are both overweight and have no idea how to eat healthy.)  So that’s how the visit started…with them bitching about every little thing and nearly causing my sister to have an aneurism.

Ok, so we had two extra people in the house so far, and we still only had my bed, my sister’s bed, and Little Bubba‘s bunk beds.  It wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but my aunt is so big that she can only sleep in certain places.  So logistically she had to take my sister’s bed, because my bed is upstairs, and neither one of them can make it up the stairs without nearly having a heart attack.  So me, my sister, and Little Bubba all had to sleep in my bed.  Talk about family togetherness.  The worst part of that was having my nephew’s knees jabbing me in the back all night.

On Friday, my dad and little brother arrived.  Thankfully I had to work again that day.  That night there was more bitching about food, the lack thereof, and how my sister was being unreasonable by trying to make sure we cooked healthy foods even while they were here.   Like they are allergic to it or something.  Shit, I am allergic to shellfish, but that never stopped them from cooking tons of shrimp and not worrying about what the fuck I was going to eat.  I always had to make do with salad or whatever I could find.  [Sigh] Sorry.  I know I’m ranting here, but I’m so stressed out by their being here.  I’m literally turning red and feel my skin heating up because I’m so angry with all of them.

That night my dad slept on his ancient camping cot thing and Little Brother slept on the couch.  Again me, sis, and Little Bubba all slept in my bed.

So we made it through Friday night, and I woke up Saturday morning and went downstairs to get my coffee.  I had my coffee and cigarette, took my shower, and got ready for work as usual.  When I came back into the kitchen my mom was going through the pantry.  She saw me and said, “Y’all don’t even have anything to make biscuits.”  I said, “Mom, [Fallen Angel] is on unemployment, and I don’t make that much, so we have run low on funds for food, but I promise I’ll get some groceries today.”  Mom sort of rolled her eyes and said “uh huh” in this disbelieving tone that really pissed me off.  Why she thinks we are living high on the hog I don’t know, but it’s really annoying considering we both moved here to help them and all they’ve done is bitch and moan about every little thing we’ve done.  If I could go back in time, I never would have paid the taxes on this damn house, and I never would have moved here.  I would have told them to shove it up their tail pipes and put a match to the damn place.

(Deep breaths.)

OK, so I’m stressed.  Not just a little stressed, but a lot stressed.  It’s not just the food issues, or the lack of understanding, or the constant bitching.  It’s also because I’m in a house with five other people, and I’m the ONLY ONE who IS employed.  And yet they feel that they have some god given right to tell me how to live my life and what to do with my money?  Oh hell NO.

(More deep breaths.)

Thankfully, Teacher had asked me to come hang out with him after I got off work on Saturday.  I had packed a bag and snuck it out with me when I left for work that morning.  I was all ready to go as soon as I closed up the store.  I had told my sister that I would not be back that night and I told her where I was going, but I didn’t mention anything to my parents about not being back that night.  I knew that there was no point.  They would just lecture me or ask a million intrusive questions or be very judgmental about it like they are with everything else I do.  So instead I just left.

I had a great time with Teacher Saturday afternoon and evening.  I got to hear him play and sing at a nice little bar/restaurant, meet some of his friends, and spend the rest of the night with him.  The next morning we went out to breakfast and then to a park for a little while before I had to head back.  I really didn’t want to leave, but I knew my family was probably already up in a tizzy because I didn’t come home the night before.  Plus it was Easter Sunday and we were supposed to have a family lunch/dinner and an egg hunt for the boys.  If it weren’t for the boys I wouldn’t have cared what the rest of them had planned, but I wanted the boys to have a good Easter.

As I was driving home I got a text from Fallen Angel.  It said, “Don’t get your hopes up on the ham.”  I wasn’t sure what that meant and she didn’t respond to my text asking her to explain.  When I was about half way home she sent me another text.  “Are you on your way home?”  I told her I was and she said, “Thank God.”  So of course my mind starts racing.  I didn’t know what to expect once I got there.  Would the ham be sitting on the front lawn, would they be screaming at one another, would I get verbally attacked when I walked in?  The wave of stress was overwhelming.  Then she sent one last text.  It said, “They saw the picture.”  (I had posted a picture of Teacher playing Saturday night on my Facebook.)

When I did get home and walk in, my mom saw me and just said, “Well, hello.”  Of course her tone is what said it all.  I knew what she really meant was, “There you are you little heathen. How dare you stay out all night while we’re here.”  So what?  It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve done something to piss them off.  They should be used to it by now.

The next few days were awful.  Usually it’s my sister and my dad who don’t get along, but this time it was my sister and my mom.  My aunt didn’t help either.  Their constant bitching about drove me crazy.  They finally left Wednesday and praise Jebus because I don’t think I could have taken much more.  I was just itching for them to say something to me so I could let the wrath of the redhead fall upon them all.

After they had all gone home I told my sister about them trying to convince me that I needed to move back there with them.  I told her that it would be a cold day in hell before I ever lived within two hours of them again, and I meant it.  Their drama is just that…theirs.  I don’t want anything to do with it.

Happy humping!

Waiting to exhale

Cheesy title I know, but it really describes how I feel.  It seems like I’m always waiting on something so I can just breathe.  Like now, I’m waiting to find out what is going to happen with this house, my sister, my friend, my life in general.  “Lost” doesn’t even begin to cover where I’m at in life right now.

Growing up I always had people trying to control me and my life, and even though I cherish my freedom and independence, I feel a little lost when I don’t have someone there trying to control everything for me.

My sister went up to look at that house this weekend, and it turns out that it’s not something that is going to work out for her.  So now we have to find a new plan.  She would stay here, but my boss told her that he’s selling his building and she has to be out by the end of the month.  She was renting an office space from him because her job allows her to telecommute, but she has to have fast internet access, and we don’t have that here at the house.  That leaves her with two options, find a new office to rent, or go ahead and move back to our home state and find a place there where she can set up a new office.

Moving back to our home state was always her plan B, and it seems that now it may be her only option because she got a call from the realtor today.  The woman who looked at the house a couple of weeks ago called and now she wants to bring her husband to come and look at it.  We already know that the woman loves the house, and if the hubby likes it the realtor thinks that they will go ahead and make an offer.  If they do decide to buy the house they want to move in thirty days after the papers are signed.  So we could be homeless in less than two months if things move fairly quickly.

I did some house hunting online, just for the hell of it, and found a really cute “Anne of Green Gables” style house in our home state not too far from where our parents are living now.  It has a horse barn and pasture for my sister’s herd, and it even has a little old general store building on the property.  I would be happy just turning that into my own little cottage.  If we can sell this house then I think I’ve almost got my sister talked into buying that one, or at least taking a look at it.  I don’t relish the idea of being tethered to my sister and nephew for the rest of my life, but the idea of moving back to my homeland, Alabama the Beautiful, and it is a beautiful state, somehow comforts me.

The other thing I feel like I’ve been waiting on is my friend, the one who I was supposed to go see the weekend before last.  He sent me a text a week ago telling me that he had been having phone problems but was back home.  He didn’t say anything else.  A couple of days ago I sent him a text just saying hi.  He never responded.  I guess I should go ahead and return the gift that I’ve carried around in the trunk of my car for over a week now.

I understand that if he’s having a family crisis then he probably doesn’t have time for long conversations with me or anything, but he could at least let me know he’s ok.  Then again, if he can’t even talk to me about things when he going through something like that, then he must not really consider me a friend after all.  Maybe all I ever was to him was just an occasional bed buddy.  It’s too bad, because I make a really good friend and listener too.

I kept promising to explain why I shouldn’t move back to New Orleans, and I guess now is as good a time as any.  It will also connect some of the dots above.  Since my friend isn’t showing much interest and he’s one of the main reasons I wanted to go back to NOLA, now I don’t have much reason at all to move back there.  There are other more important reasons though.

First of all, my little DWI experience back in 2010 came back to bite me in the ass.  I completed all my classes and paid my fines and everything, but I failed to pay off some other unrelated fines to get my physical drivers license back.  When I was living in NOLA I got pulled over one day and got a ticket for a whole list of offenses, and honestly I lucked out because the cop could have taken me back to jail right then, but he didn’t.  Unfortunately the ticket turned out to be over a thousand dollars and I missed my court date because I had to work.  So now I have no license and can’t get one until all that is paid off.  Another problem that came of all that is that I think I have bench warrants out on me, so me taking a chance by being in NOLA is probably a very bad idea.

To top it all off, Manwhore is still there in NOLA and supposedly getting married again in December, and he’s the last person I want to run into.  He also knows about my dirty little DWI secret.  Depending on which side of the bipolar tree he’s swinging from on any particular day, he might just turn me in for the fun of it.  So you can probably understand my trepidation there.

Since I have a whole list of reasons why I shouldn’t move back to NOLA, and very few reasons why I should, I think I’ll just appreciate the time that I did get to spend there, and leave it in my past where it belongs.

Just so you know, and so I don’t feel like a complete liar, I’ll tell you only that someone from my past has popped up again.  I don’t want to say who just yet.  It’s someone who I have very conflicted feelings about…someone who I like, but who also scares me.  Once I sort out some of my feelings on the whole situation, I’ll try to share them in more detail.  Until then…

Happy humping!

Bad Harry! Bad, bad Harry!

Before my heart stops racing and before I go on a binge breaking things…

This morning I was to meet Harry for breakfast at the local Huddle House.  We met.  Now I’m at work and ready to spit nails into someone’s tires.

When I got there he was already sitting in the booth.  I sat down, we ordered, and he just stared at me and smiled.  I told him about our tenants moving out, and about the possible buyer on the house.  When I mentioned that I just hate not knowing how long I’ll be here and what is going on, he had kind of a weird guilty look on his face.  I knew something was up.

Then he said, “There’s something that I wanted to talk to you about.  I should have told you last week, but I couldn’t.”  Great.  What now?  Then he went on to tell me that his friends had talked him into giving it another shot with his wife, and he had moved, as in really moved, back in with his wife, but he really likes me and wants to keep seeing me.  WHAT THE HELL?

This is EXACTLY what I told him I didn’t want to happen.  I told him in the beginning that I didn’t want to start seeing him and then have him turn around and decide he was going back with his wife or ex-girlfriend.

I feel like an idiot.  I saw the red flags, and I chose to ignore them.

Any way, I told him that I refused to be the “other woman.”  If he wanted to try to work things out with his wife, then he should do so and give it his all…with no girlfriends on the side.  I even told him that I hoped things worked out for them.

All he could say was that he was sorry.

Sorry my ass.  I didn’t even eat my breakfast.  My appetite was gone.  I brought it back for my sister to eat instead.  From my pain, comes her gain.

I’m trying to remain calm about all this, because I didn’t even really have anything vested into the relationship yet, but it still pisses me off.  Deep breaths and happy thoughts….

On the bright side, now I have something to write about.  And…I no longer have evil thoughts about how I should stick around here.  I still owe you an explanation on why I probably shouldn’t move back to New Orleans, but I’ll post that in a separate post, soon.  (Just so you know, I would really, really like to move back to NOLA.)

Happy humping.

The Tenants from Hell

You may recall that back in April of this year my sister rented out our basement to a couple I later called Awesome Man & Awesome Woman due to their wonderful woodworking & auto mechanic skills.  All that has changed.  They are no longer awesome in any way.  I’ll explain.

After they moved in they told us that they had a six-month old baby girl.  We were told that she was up North with his family because AW & AM  had recently moved down here to take care of AW’s dying mother, who we later found out was a drug dealer, and they wanted to get settled before bringing the baby down.  Of course that sounded odd, but they didn’t seem like the sharpest tools in the shed anyway, so we just said OK and let it go.

A couple of weeks after the Crawfish Boil, we were all hanging out on the porch talking and enjoying a beer.  My sister went inside to check on something and while she was gone, AM said something about AW looking really good for having had kids.  I agreed.  Then she said that she couldn’t believe she was in such good of shape after giving birth FIVE times.  What?!  Five times?!  I was certain I must have heard her wrong.  She’s not much older than my sister and she had only mentioned the one baby prior to that.  I was shocked and confused and afraid to say anything for fear of sounding judgmental, but I wanted to ask her where the hell her other kids were.

I mentioned it to my sister the next day, and she agreed that I must have misunderstood.  It just all sounded too insane.  If she had five kids, then why weren’t the other four with her?  We were both extremely confused.

The next day my sister got a chance to talk to AM for a few minutes and managed to find out that Continue reading