I thought maybe they were just storing their stuff here but they’re not, they’re moving in. Today it was confirmed, they’re moving in here. In the process her dad told her not to block my door way with boxes. She went off, started screaming, called me every sort of bitch under the sun and told me while they’re here I should continue to leave only stay gone longer. She threw out that while they moved their stuff in this last week (today being day 7) I left to keep the peace. I didn’t care if she knew I was leaving to keep the peace but to throw it in my face and tell me to stay gone longer is crazy. She screamed at the top of her lungs and told me to “get homeless” and told her father it was no longer worth it to have me here. Worth it for her I guess. I don’t know. I was outside when she was yelling and cursing, outside brushing Gus. She kept coming around to the side of the house to insight me to fight her. It takes a heck of a lot to push, little does she know that’s not enough. She can yell and scream if she wants but don’t touch me and don’t destroy my artwork. Getting in my face isn’t enough to insight me to violence. Most words can’t either but to touch me is another story. She wasn’t sure how to handle how calm I was or handle the fact that I didn’t respond to her at all. I didn’t say one single word. I smoked my cig, brushed the dog and went inside, period. Its a sad state of affairs in this house right now.
Monthly Archive for May, 2009
In last night’s dream I was at a house where an East Indian lady was pulling runes (casting lots) and reading a board. She was also said to be some sort of healer. A group of men burst into the facility where many people ran for protection and healing from her. When the men burst in she told them the place was spiritual and she had religious protection from the local government. The men told her as long as she didn’t step outside she’d have sanctuary but the moment she stepped outside the safety of her temple area she would be arrested. When the men left the lady began to care for an 8 year old boy with Down Syndrome.
In another part of the building was a kitchen where my mother and I filled our plates with pizza. She searched the cabinets to find my “links”. She wanted to find where I’d written links to my blog, my shops and my favorites. I’d written them on a paper plate which happened to be the on I pulled from the cabinet. I thought if I went ahead and pretended to stay in the kitchen to make sure she didn’t find my links then she’d never suspect that they were inches from her sight. All I had to do was play along and pretend I was there to make certain she didn’t find my links. They were hiding right there in plain sight. I woke up from there.
I passed this bear up three weeks in a row at my local thrift store because he cost a bit more than I had. The other day at they had a half off sale and I got to bring him home. I guarded the cart like a mama bear with a cub.
Gus and Bella like him too. Gus wants to sniff him, Bella thinks the $5.00 bear was a present just for her. I’ve got news for Bell, Bernhardt is mine, mine, mine.
Yes, the bear’s name is Bernhardt. (insert happy clap here)
Bernhardt and Joy are here.
Austin
I figure if I’m civilized enough to leave them alone while they’re here they could be gracious enough to leave my stuff alone. I came out to get ice and saw 5 oil paintings on the floor!!!! They moved my paintings and got dirt all over them. They moved my paintings which were out of the way drying so they could put a treadmill where they were. I told Fife Senior in these exact terms, “If I’m kind enough to leave them the fuck alone while they’re here they should be kind enough to leave my shit the fuck alone.” Of course he lost eye contact while I cursed my head off but my goodness!!! Dirt on wet oil paintings. This is so wrong!!!!!!!!!! One of them was on paper not canvas. It was wrinkled up on the floor. In my opinion this is an act of war. She might as well have kicked me in the gut. This bitch will hear from me. Enough of being civilized and giving her space, enough trying to be nice and keep the peace. Nope. Do not fuck with my artwork! Who in the hell does she think she is?
I was trying so hard not to curse like this on my blog anymore but damn!!! Come on, this is total bullshit to the extreme. This is why I don’t own a gun. I’d be in prison! Had I been here when she did it she would have met the one of me that doesn’t shake or tremble when she’s around. I left because I didn’t feel like dealing with her. When I got back and saw my stuff I was livid. Fife Senior told me what happened. I told him I hope she has oil all up and down her fucking clothes. She has so crossed the line. Dirt everywhere? Wrinkled on the floor? Seriously? Really? War!
UPDATE:
*comments are off*
Gus has no idea what PTSD is nor does he have the slightest understanding of why I react in anger when he does stuff that triggers me. He has no idea why I ask him to get off the bed because he’s licking his paws or because he took to long to lay down and hovered over me. Sometimes he pants and shakes the bed. Argh!! All he hears is anger in my voice when these things happen. I try very hard to control it but sometimes I don’t do so well.
In therapy we talked about that head movement he makes and the slurping sound as he licks his paws. I can’t stand it. I immediately become furious. He has no idea why. I’ve had enough dogs to know they all lick their paws. They lick them when they’re bored, after they eat, before they go to sleep. They’re constantly doing that. I know this but it still gets to me.
In relation to this head movement Dr. D and I discussed details of sexual abuse by a female that many don’t want or need to ever know. Continue reading ‘He Doesn’t Know’
Please read the disclaimer at the bottom of the entry first. Thanks
Three weeks ago Fife Senior and I discussed expanding our vegetable garden. We already grow our own garlic, several different kinds of fruit and a few veggies then we talked about adding broccoli, romaine lettuce, spinach and bell peppers. Fife went out and purchased the plants then sat them on the table. They sat there for three weeks untouched. The ground was ready for them and they were past ready to be planted so I got together a few huge pots and put the lettuce in one and one bell pepper plant in the other. When he got home later that day he asked where the plants were. I told him what I’d done. He said they sat on the table because there wasn’t enough room in the garden for all of them. Because there wasn’t enough room for all the plants he didn’t plant any. Sometimes I forget this guy has Asperger’s Syndrome.
Yesterday evening he made his world famous potato salad. The man can cook, he really can. After he made it I went into the kitchen to discover an oven mitt in the middle of the floor. I knew exactly why it was there because he’d tossed it there one other time. I refused to move it. This evening when I went in the kitchen he told me the mitt was in his way last night. He says it doesn’t belong on the counter. Really? That’s why it’s in the floor, I said?
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