So, OMG, people. I’m sleepy and happy.
And so busy. And tired. Please give my kittehs a good home and while you’re at it, can you buy NB’s three bedroom (plus two more in the finished basement!), one bathroom (wait, another in the finished basement too!), pretty house with hardwood floors and a biggun back yard?
Thanks. It would make buying OUR house so much easier. When we find it anyway.
I need to remove my kittens from our home. I need to allow someone else to adopt them. I only have asthma attacks when I’m home with them, not at school, not out of town, not at NB’s house…only when I’m around them. I have bathed them every other month, I have taken buckets of allergy medicine, but the asthma is too much.
In addition, they are getting to be too much for this busy family and need more attention than we can provide I think. The boys are getting more active and involved with friends and school. I’m getting more work. They are showing us that they are displeased.
And lastly, we’re moving soon. To…somewhere.
They need a better home with people who are around to love them more and who isn’t allergic to them like I am. They are both great kittens. Lydia is sweet and snuggable. Toby is funny, feisty, and super loving. If you know of a great home (they deserve a great home), please let me know at sugaredharpy @ gmail. com.
So, you’ve noticed that you can’t get into porn on the computer, eh?
Yeah, sorry, I tried.
No, it’s fine. Just um, I do not want you looking at that at this age. It’s not how sex is. It’s not what sex is about. It’s misogynistic and ugly and often really angry compared to what sex actually is and what it should be. When you’re older you can judge that for yourself, but right now at 14? It’s more confusing than anything.
Okay, Mom. I get it.
Besides, this is a house of nudity in pictures. In any century, any region, I’ve got a book on it somewhere.
Yeah, but I see that all the time. And it’s all so tasteful.
I was walking to my car after class when this suicidal grasshopper jumped onto my shoulder. Rather than be swatted to death, clearly his plan, he merely became my living brooch. Stunned a bit, I just let him ride his way to my car where I put him back in the grass. Probably, I disappointed him but too bad, buddy. Today isn’t your day.
***
Apparently, this week is Ache to Punch Your Landlord in the Face Week for those named Melissa. Sunday afternoon I found a note attached to my door (why yes, this is his exact punctuation).
Dear Tenant
We are needing to get inside Tomorrow 9-29-08 for inspection Please call me @ ****** Thanks, ____
LANDLORD
First of all, this is not my landlord. This is my landlord’s son. Second of all, fool ass…inspection? Didn’t y’all just have an appraiser through here in the winter because you just refinanced?
So I call, leave a message, get a ring back. “Uh, did someone call from this phone?”
“YES (Fool). Because you told me to.”
In this phone call, I learn that he wants to meet me at my door as soon as I pull in from work and through setting that up I hear this, “…because when you sell a house you need an inspection.”
‘SCUSEME? Sell the house?”
“Oh, yeah, I had to leave school and I need a place to like, party in and stuff so my mom is giving me that house.”
INTERESTING.
The next day when he arrives, I learn more. He’s brought his girlfriend. This is no inspection, this is playing happy families. They are picking out paint colors and choosing which sofa should go on what wall. Naturally, I am livid.
DUDEWHATHEFUCKAREYOUDOINGHERE? WHENAREYOUPLANNINGTOMOVEIN?
“Maybe November to the end of the year. Dunno.”
NO, NEED DATE. MUST PLAN. HAVE KIDS.
“Well, my mom said December 1st. We’d love to have our first Christmas here.”
(I have two kids here, asshole. They like Christmas, too.)
I have to be out by December 1st. I am not pleased. If his mother, my actual landlord, had just sent a letter saying: We are sorry, but we’re selling the house and this is the date in which we’d like to take over possession, I honestly would have been fine. This bullshit prancing around my house expecting me to be happy for them pisses me off.
NB and I had been making some interesting housing plans for January, a happy plan already set in motion a few weeks ago. December is not January, but it is not too far earlier either. But no one wanted a rush, or to have a non-flexible situation, or to have anyone move more than once or have a stupid drive to add on. Our plan, well, it is changing.