Jul 15, 2011

I need advice, please.

I'll try to not make this too long-winded, but I think detail may be necessary and that means long-winded.  Back when Tom and I split up, Jake, the cats and I left our house for the one we live in now.  The house we were in was supposed to be sold and all profits split up between us and Tom was court-ordered to maintain that house until that time, even though I bought this place far earlier.  He did not and the house went into foreclosure. That didn't stop Tom, his girlfriend (now-wife), Crackwhore Michelle (no, really, she is), from moving back into it, nor did it stop him from having his brother, Tim, move in with them.  Various and assorted other people also lived in that house in that time frame, resulting in the the house becoming the local crack house.  All of them are/were/whatever crackheads at that point in time and who knew crack houses could exist in really, really nice neighborhoods?  Trust me, they do, and it's humiliating to even admit that, so very embarrassing, but it's part of my history and it plays a part in this problem. So, the lot of them had over a years notice of the auction date, but they didn't leave or get their stuff out.  The house was auctioned and they were given 30 days to leave.  Because I'm nosy, I was keeping an eye on things and they left with one day to spare...one freaking day. You'd think this is done and over, no?  No.  A few days later I got a call from the man who bought the house in the auction,  irate, and blaming *me.  It seems he had no clue, being an out of state buyer, that the house was a crack house and that the interior was destroyed. He found me (the crack heads were untraceable by then) and decided to dump his world of ire on my shoulders.  Yeah, not so much.  Once I got him calmed down enough to let me talk, I 'splained I'd not lived in that house for well over a year, told him who *had, and said that since he's made such nasty accusations against me ("What kind of filthy trash *are you?" and other ore colorful variations), I'd like to drive out, meet him and bring him pictures of the interior of the house on the day I left.  Luckily, my attorney had instructed me to take pictures of every room with that days' newspaper in the picture, save the paper, and document I turned my house keys over to a deputy.  I took everything with me and  went to meet ol', mad Bob.  When I pulled into the yard, I saw masses and masses of...well...garbage.  It filled the huge front porch to the ceiling and overflowed out into the front yard and driveway.  Bob and I, once he saw the pictures of how I left the place (trust me, *anyone could have moved right into that house, it was so spotless and nice) got along just fine and he asked me if I wanted to pick through the garbage to see if there was anything important to me or my son.  Gah, now *there's a charming offer, and I'm getting to my dilemma,  I swear, so hang with me.  Anyway, he gave me three days and I spent all of them out there, sorting through the nastiest shit you could imagine but I stuck at it.  Why?  Because I'm a sentimental person and the very first bag I looked in, mixed in with maggot-y kitchen garbage, I found the silver baby spoon and fork that's a family heirlooom on Tom's side and was passed to us for Jake.  In another bag, I found Tom's and Tim's graduation pictures.  In a box of filth I won't even share the details of, I found Tom's trophies.  So, I went back and dug and dug and dug some more, cleaning and salvaging anything I could.  In the end, I filled two huge Rubbermaid boxes with things of Tom's and Tim's that could be saved...diplomas, degrees, family pictures taken in the early 1900's, childhood scrapbooks, photo albums, memorabilia from the deaths and funerals of various grandparents, books with special meaning, school year books,  and the thing that made me most sad, all the cards Jake ever gave Tom. You know, the ones where they can't really write, so you hold their hands and guide them on a card they made themselves?  Yeah, all of those.  Anyway,  my plan was to clean everything up and when Jake's great grandmother came to see him, I'd give them all to her since all of the old photos, silver and some other things were hers to begin with.  I had no reason to give it back to Tom or Tim, since they obviously didn't give a shit about any of it.  Well, in the end, Jake's great grandmother apparently never gave a shit about *him, since she never came to visit.  Ten years later, here I am with these bins still in my house, a constant reminder of all the pain the time brought and I want rid of them.  For the record, Jake has no interest in any of it since he's come to see these people for what they are.  When I first got the stuff, I did give him his dad's trophies and framed a few pictures of his dad as a young boy for his room and he still has those but says I can do whatever with them, too. Here's where I need some advice and am asking what y'all would do with all this stuff?  I'm most inclined to ship them jointly to Jake's great grandmother, mother and sister anyway (mother and sister are mean bitches of the highest caliber), along with a letter laying a lot of things out there that they they don't know because they refused to hear it...basically, unburdening my heart *and my floorspace in one fell swoop, finishing it all up with one big "fuck the whole, big, dysfunctional lot of you", only phrased more mannerly than that.  As much as I hate them all, and I do because they fought hard to take Jake completely away from me, I feel like this stuff needs to be back in their family. But part of me also wonders why.  I mean, if they didn't give a damn about Jake, why bother?  And I've got some family telling me to dump the stuff, let it go and don't worry over it.  A few say to send it back but with my letter, so my burdens are all dumped back on them, and some are saying to let them know I have it and the first one down this way can pick it up. Trouble is, that'll be Tom and really, I'm mean enough to want to everyone to see what he and Tim abandoned. At the same time, I realize they aren't going to give a rat's ass about anything I have to say and, in reality, are going to be pissed at me for holding on to all this stuff instead of giving it to Tom or letting them know I have it.  Ugh. No matter what I do, it's only going to reinforce what a bitch I am in their eyes.

So, knowing the whole, drawn-out story, what would y'all do with this stuff?

Jul 8, 2011

Beatrice and her cloak of invisibility.

Today, Beatrice had a follow up. It's official, she definitely has herpes. In her eye. *sighs*  They say she was probably born with it.  Look at my poor, sweet baby...I dare you to not fall in love.

She has to wear her blankie every time we go and, in fact, wears it at home when she gets scared or is very tired. How sweet is she, though?  She just sits in her carrier the whole time, positive no one can see her.  :-)  She did perk up once, though...she heard plastic rustling and being opened.  She just knew she was getting a treat, since that's what the treat bag sounds like.

Sadly for Beatrice, it was actually the sound of a rectal thermometer being prepared.  I suppose some may find that to be a treat, but Bea does not.  At least she's off all but one drop, three times a day, but forever and ever, amen, I have to add some stuff to *all their food to help prevent spread and future outbreaks in Beatrice. I'm also to keep her non-stressed, since stress causes outbreaks...this for the nervous girl who wears a cloak of invisibility.  Ah, well, at least she didn't have cancer, although she would have rocked the one-eyed pirate look in her pirate ship.  Arrrrr!

I don't wanna talk about the Casey Anthony trial right now.  Bastards.

Jul 4, 2011

Doings around here.

Well, didn't I just disappear?  I wish I had excuses like an exotic vacation or  moving to a fancy, new home but alas...mostly it's been due to my complete obsession to the Casey Anthony trial.  And I don't use the term "obsession" lightly...I'm probably an expert on all this stuff now.  My obsession started the first night the news reported Caylee missing (this is all going on the next county over from me) and hasn't let up since. The funny thing is how this whole area is obsessed...any medical office you go into, the trial is on.  Traffic is noticeably lighter while it's on. People are discussing it in great detail in checkout lines and running errands during lunch recess.  Most of us say we're on jury duty, lol, since we are there for everything the jury is and we deliberate amongst ourselves.  The moment recess is called, friends and neighbors begin calling and texting to discuss what just happened.  I've had 2 neighbors tell me church was near empty today (well, yesterday), since Belvin had court in session on a Sunday. I just don't know what I'm going to do with  myself when this is over, y'all.  Sleep in some?  Mop, finally?  Watch People's Court again?

But, I have had other things going on.  A couple of weeks ago, we noticed Beatrice, The Casserole Cat's eye looked funky, like it had a murky, clumpy film on it.  She's not a cat that looks you in the eye often (she's a shifty thing) and we keep the house very dark inside day and night, so it could have been that way for awhile.  I took her to the vet, only to find out her eye was ulcerated.  I felt awful.  :-(  See her poor eye?  It's her left one, the one to your right.

The vet gave me several possibilities, from injury to herpes to toxoplasmosis to cancer.  A week on antibiotics held it at bay but it was no better so now we're trying 2 weeks on antibiotics and an anti-viral drop. The assumption (hope? prayer?) now is that it's herpes or toxoplasmosis and considering I keep her litterbox *very clean, the vet leans to herpes, carried in from outside on hour shoes or hands.  Seriously?  Only in our family...only in quirky-assed Beatrice...could eye herpes come about.  The anti-viral drops are working, proving this theory to be correct, though, since her eye looks some better.  Jeeez, eye herpes in a cat.  Between this and me having had cat scratch fever  (no, really, I did in my early 20's and with every ridiculous complication possible),  Beatrice and I have about covered all the possible STD-y sounding things that can happen between cats and humans. You want to talk fun, though?  Try putting all this in a cat's eye and mouth daily:
2 doses of oral antibiotics, 3 doses of antibiotic ointment, 2 doses of anti-viral drops and 4 doses of Systane a day, none of which can be done together in one burrito-wrap of Bea.  We spend all day burrito-wrapping and dosing, it seems like.  I'm not bitching, though, *really...hell, I'm just grateful I didn't have to burrito wrap Miss Arse during her disturbingly similar ordeal.  Let's see...what else?  Well, I flooded.  Well, not *me; that's not happened in years.  Anyway, it didn't get in the house, so that's good and just ignore that semi-painted door and messy back patio. For the record, a few minutes after this was taken, that stray umbrella stand was in water.  Ooooh, let's play "Find The Item"...can you find the shovel still in the ground?   If you can, your prize is knowing that's where we buried Gina and forgot to put the shovel away.  *twitch*
I made a 5 minute craft project.  Jake was going to go to a Southern Pride festival and needed a hair bow.  Whaaaaat?  That strikes you as weird?  ;-)  I sacrificed a small Rebel flag for the event, cut the side off panel off where the stick goes in and tied it into a bow, then sewed a hair clip the the underside.  Not too bad for a fast project, I thought.  See? 
He wound up not going to the festival but wore it to Walmart the next day to shop for jeans...with a Tennessee t-shirt cut up and a lycra tank underneath, a la Flashdance, Dixie-style. Have I ever mentioned how much I adore my son?  Because I do. I guess the only other excitement is that anti-social me had a drop-in dinner guest and it was fun.  She's an old friend from high school (hi, Tracey!) and didn't even know I lived here. She was driving by just to get away from family she was visiting the next street over, recognized me as she drove by and stopped to say hi.  I was in a social mood, invited her in and shared dinner that was already planned with her.  I did use my pretty fish plates, since she was company...see?
Tracey was a little disturbed to discover it was a seafood mix that contained squid and octopus along with shrimp, mussels and clams, but she was a good sport and insisted on trying it.  I made a coconut and saffron basmati rice with scallions to go with it and she wound up loving it all!  We had fun playing with the parts...
...I see a tentacle!  By the way, I told her I had a sweet red wine to go with dinner, even though red wine doesn't go with seafood.  She asked what kind of red wine it was.  I repeated, it's *sweet and showed her. 
Once she stopped laughing, she had to admit it's really an amazingly decent wine for under $3 a bottle. We went through two bottles.  *nods*  It was an unexpectedly lovely few hours and I hope we can repeat it next summer. :-)  And lastly, as if anyone needs more proof that my son is allllll mine, we went to Blockbuster to rent a couple of movies.  We each picked one, he handed me his as I checked out and I didn't even look at it.  Once in the car, we examined the other's choice and this is what we each picked, his to the left and mine to the right:
How telling.  :-D

PS:  It's 4am and Blogger is being a pain my ass, not letting things space correctly between pictures and text.  I give up and am going to bed.  Just know I tried.