Rock Star ass

T minus two days I leave for South Korea. 

I’m at Cheshire Coffee drinking a latte and feeling like a rock star.  That’s going to be my new thing, feeling like a rock star.

I think I lost some weight these past few months.  I don’t eat while I’m at work.  I don’t eat anything from 1pm to 10 at night four days out of the week and it’s starting to show.  I slipped on my skinny jeans and threw on a cute top and scoped myself out in the mirror.  Yeah, I’m hot.  Well, maybe not hot, but skinny at least.

While I was downstairs checking out my ass, my mother was upstairs yelling at Crazy Aunt about using her credit card and charging it up to the max.

My aunt has no job.  All she does all day is run around waiting on Robert.  When Robert wants to take a 17 hour shower, he has to go to a hotel.  My aunt has been charging hotel visits on my mom’s visa and also charging for a rental car.

My mom is pissed, really pissed.  She’s been asking for her card back for three weeks and my aunt ignores her.  She say’s “okay,” like she’s going to give it to her, but she never does.

I just spilled my coffee on the floor, but I caught the cup thanks to my cat-like reflexes, so I have plenty left to drink.

I promised Dave I would go to happy tuesday with him.  He’s on his way now, I guess I should go.

Here’s a quick re-cap of what I’ve been up to:

On Friday I worked until 9pm, came home and watched the last two episodes of True Blood that we got in the mail (season two).  I went to bed really late, maybe around three am.  Then woke up at 6:30 am to massage six people, came home and crashed for an hour.  Holly called and woke me up.

Holly – Wake up we’re going to Murphy’s.

Me – But I’m soooooo tired.

Holly – I knew you were going to do this!

She sounded very upset.

Me – Do what?

Holly – Flake out.

Me – ……..ugh

Holly – Get ready, we’ll pick you up.

Me – Okay

I went to Murphy and Scarlette’s with Holly, Kristina, Tara and Dave.  I was double fisting most of the night, got extremely drunk and made out with Dave (whom has a girlfriend) for like an hour and a half on the dance floor – I barely recall this, but I know it happened, and I’m pretty sure he instigated it.

I went home after the bar closed, ate a hamburger and watched the first episode of Drop dead diva (on netflix of course) and fell asleep.  I woke the next day at 10 am to go to work to massage for four hours of brutal manual muscle therapy.  One of which was a two hour massage to a guy I massaged before and have a crush on.  He reminds me of a chubby Clark Kent, and I think he was acting cute with me in a coy, flirty way.

I went home after work and slept. 

For my birthday yesterday, I went out to eat with Holly, Kristina and Dan to Namaste, an indian restaurant.  Indian is my new favorite food – sorry sushi.

Boo this post sucks, but I gotta jet.

Soon I will write something very profound.  More profound than my skills at making instant coffee.  More profound than making out like a teenager at a bar with a guy who’s seeing someone else.  I will be profound if it’s the last thing I do damn it!

I gotta pee.

My quest into the absurd

I just got home from work and taken my dad’s advice of pouring myself a big glass of wine.

Should I move out?  I was so set on staying and being here for my dad.  He needs a strong, stable shoulder to lean on.  But of what cost is it to my own sanity?  We shall see. 

When I got home tonight, I went upstairs for dinner and saw a check laying on the kitchen table with my name on it.  My mom made it out to me for $20.

Me – What’s this check for?

She ignored me.  She written “For books” in the memo.

Me – What books?

Mom – For the books that got wet in your bathroom.

I put the check back down.

Me – It’s not me that needs money, it’s dad.

Crazy aunt – What’s that supposed to mean, Melanie?

She said it all evil-like.  I ignored her.

Then her and my mom start talking about me.

Dad – Okay, enough I don’t feel like hearing this anymore.

Mom – No “thank you” for the money, nothing like that.  Just a wise comment.

Me – I don’t care about a stupid book getting ruined – I’m not worried about a book!  I’m worried about the damage done to our house.

Crazy aunt – Robert went downstairs and threw a bucket of water in your bathroom.

I don’t know where she was going with that one.  I don’t care that he didn’t do it intentionally, that has nothing to do with anything. 

I pour my big glass of wine and head back downstairs.  Robert was running the water the whole time I was in the kitchen.

Crazy aunt – You need to go to church.  YOU need to go to confessional.

Me – I go to church more than anyone in this house.  Robert is the one who needs to confess.

Crazy aunt – Robert is more saintly and holy than……

Me – Robert said he was going to kill my brother!  What kind of holy person threatens to kill a family member?!

Crazy aunt – HE DID IT BECAUSE I WAS HAVING A STROKE!

She screamed this on the top of her lungs like a mad woman.  I know it’s wrong for me to think this, but both my brother and I feel that she was faking it.  My brother, whom was there for this alleged “stroke” strongly believes it was all an act, and I believe him.  My aunt lies out her teeth – blatant lies.

I forgot to mention that before I headed back downstairs with my wine, I hung up a printout I got online about leaky pipes.  I hung it on the fridge and highlighted area’s of interest such as: 

One leaky pipe can be an indicator of widespread damage.

If left untreated can cause mold, weaken walls and ceilings due to water damage.

And if homeowners insurance comes to the house to repair it, they will raise your premiums and most likely not renew your insurance.

Just some food for thought.  I’m sure it’s been taken down by now, but guess what?  It’s going back up.  And you know what else will be posted on the fridge?  The number for the mental hospital.

I hate writing depressing shit. 

That’s it, from now on I’m going to say more ridiculous one-liners to Crazy aunt.  They make me laugh, and get her aggravated.  She won’t listen to reason, so why try?  She’s immune to logic, beyond rational thought.  So it’s final, no more rational, level-headed Melanie.  I will only mutter ridiculous statements to her.  The less sense I make, the better.

No more depressing posts – no more getting angry over assholes.  Just pure, absurd behavior at it’s best.  And my dad really likes my jokes.  I think you guys really like them, too.

Now let’s probe deeper into my crazy sense of humor and see what crap I can equip myself with.  This feels liberating.  I don’t feel as angry.

What’s the number for the straight-jacket people?

It’s raining in my bathroom!  All my bathroom books are wet 😦

I woke up today, got out of bed and walked out of my bedroom to see that there was a flood in my bathroom, and the wall panels taken down to expose the pipes.

Me – What’s going on?

Mom – Can you come up here so I can talk to you?

(My mom was talking to me from upstairs.)

Me – I have to go to the bathroom.

Mom – Okay, go to the bathroom and then come speak to me.

I go to the bathroom and see where the leak was coming from on the ceiling.

“This is great.  Just Great.”

On my way walking up the stairs I say, “So is this the third house that Robert’s demolished?.  It’s looking a lot like the last two.”

Mom – It’s because of the pipes freezing outside.  It’s from all the snow.

Me – It’s not coming from the roof, mom!  It’s coming from the ceiling in my BATHROOM!

Mom – It’s happening to a lot of people.  It’s from the cold weather.

Me – You’re sounding just like Aunt Ceil (crazy aunt)!  You’re making excuses just like she does!

My dad was standing right there next to me.  He was happy I was making a big fuss.  He had a smile on his face cause I was saying all the things he couldn’t.  He pointed to a big jug of home-made wine that his friend gave to him.

Dad – Wine.

Me – Well, You’re not convincing me.  You can convince yourself because you’re already crazy.

I say this as I tromp back downstairs.  I felt great, revitalized.  I started brushing my teeth and see the leak again.  I spit and walk back toward the stairs to yell up, “when are they leaving?!”

Mom – Stop!

Me – It’s a simple question.  When?  Years from now when we have no more house?

There was no sign of crazy aunt and Robert, so I asked, “Where did they go?  Did they hop in the rental car and go to a hotel?”

Mom – Aunt Ceil is here!

My crazy aunt and her son were being quiet, morbidly sitting in a bedroom together because that’s what fucked up people do.

Then Robert opens up his bedroom door and starts his ballistic angry rampage by shouting out obscenities, letting his temper get the best of him.

Luckily my dad wasn’t there to hear him, he went outside or to the hardware store.

I just let him call me names while I went back to brushing my teeth in my bathroom.  He said I was ungrateful and selfish – Every other word out of his mouth was bitch.  It would have been too easy in telling him off, either it would have been too easy, or I just didn’t feel like spitting out comebacks while my mouth was full of toothpaste.  He isn’t worth it.  

He really is a homicidal sociopath, but he weighs like, 100 pounds.  He looks like a caveman because he doesn’t shave his beard or cut his hair.  Montgomery Burns could take him in a fight.

One of these days I’m going to tell him about this blog.  I’m going to tell him I’m one click away from sharing it on Facebook.  I’m friends with dozens of family members – the same family members that my mom and aunt lie to in order to conceal Robert’s condition.  Nobody can know about him or what he does.

I need to set up a separate category just for Robert.  I’ll do it later.  I have to go to work.

So sick

I am so sick,  I can barely move my eyelids.  I woke up at 6 am today with nausea.  My stomach had that full feeling you get after you eat too much and feel like throwing up.  I went to the bathroom and couldn’t stop going to the bathroom for two hours.  It was horrible, absolutely horrible.

My dad got this stomach bug first.  The first day he had it, he was in the bathroom barfing and having diarrhea every 5 minutes.  The upstairs bathroom is next to my OCD cousin’s room, Robert.  He had to listen to my dad constantly yacking up his lungs.  Robert and his mother decided it was best to stay at a hotel on the berlin turnpike, so Robert could have full access to running water without my dad hogging the bathroom.

I can’t move.  I can’t type.  I’m in badly need of a shower.  And maybe this isn’t a stomach bug, or the flu.  Maybe Robert and his mother are trying to poison me.  Either way, the only medicine available to me is time and ginger ale.

6:30 am

It’s New Years Eve.  I’m sitting at my desk in my bedroom with a Q-tip sticking out of my ear (I was cleaning my ears, but decided that blogging was more important).

I woke up an hour ago to my alarm going off.  I hit the snooze, and before I had a chance to rest my head back on my pillow, I hear the water running from the upstairs bathroom.  It was running last night before I went to bed at 11 pm, was it still running?

I get up and go to the bathroom to see if I had hot water for my shower.  Nope.  No hot water.  It’s a cold winter morning, I have to leave for work in an hour and a half, and there was no hot water for me.  So naturally, as I’m sure most people would, I got upset. 

The whole house was silent and dark when I yelled upstairs;

“I have no hot water for my shower!  Thanks a lot!  You guys are really nice.”

I’m not good at yelling even though I grew up surrounded by it.  When I yell, it sounds like I’m still being nice about everything.

My crazy aunt barked back, “Robert shut the water off a long time ago.”

My Dad – No he didn’t, he just shut it off seconds ago.

Me – She’s a freaking liar!  All she does is leech and lie!

That time, I wasn’t nice about it.  I lost it, but regained my senses again and said nothing more.  I always thought it best to let out one powerful, true statement, and let it permeate the air and sit by itself until its weight is felt.

She said some snide comments to my parents after that, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.  A few minutes later I trudged up the stairs to make breakfast.

Me – Mary Magdalene is going to hear about this.

Speaking of Mary Magdalene (my pet spider), I saw her yesterday in my dusty basement.  She was scurrying across the floor and stopped when she came to my feet.  She graciously bowed her head in respect before scuttling off to fulfill her spiderly duties.

I put the pan on the stove, dropped in some oil and let it heat up before setting my eggs in to fry.  My Pop was standing next to me brewing some coffee.

My crazy aunt sat in the room next to the kitchen.  She was boiling mad and couldn’t keep quiet.

Crazy aunt – You’re the one who leeches!  You don’t pay for anything!  What do you pay for?!

She was screaming and clearly off her rocker.

Me – Oh I’m payin’.  I’m definitely paying.

Crazy aunt – She’s a leech! Not me.  I pay to be here.

There were so many comebacks sitting in the back of my throat.  It was too easy, way too easy.  I bit my tongue because I didn’t want my Pop to get upset, and I know he hates to see me upset – and if my crazy aunt said anything else horrible nasty about me, I don’t know what my dad would’ve done.

Dad – Don’t worry about it.

He tenderly touched my cheek.

Me – I’m fine, don’t worry.

My aunt was periodically yelling at me through-out the ten minutes I spent in the kitchen.  My Pop chimed in by saying that Roberts problem should’ve been addressed years ago.

Crazy aunt – You don’t know what it’s like to be him!

Pop – He can’t keep running the water for 10 hours every day.

Crazy aunt – He hasn’t showered in two weeks!  How would YOU feel if YOU haven’t showered in two weeks!?

My Pop was in the war, he was a sailer – a seabee.  I’m sure he knows what it feels like to be dirty. 

God bless him for not flipping out.  I don’t want to see him get that fed-up, but he’s smart and knows how to deal with people.

I had to go downstairs after my eggs were done and try not to hear her talk.  I’m sure what she was saying was blog worthy, but I couldn’t handle it.  Before I shut my bedroom door, I heard my mom say;

Mom – She’s upset because she has to go to work and there was no hot water for her shower.  That’s why she was upset.  You have to calm down.

My mom started crying. 

                                                        *******************

I’m back from work already, and guess what I hear as soon as I open the front door?  The water running.

I have to go to mohegan sun now.  I’m super exhausted, but it’s New Years eve, and I can’t stay here for obvious reasons.

Yesterday and today

I went upstairs to make my breakfast today and said Hello to my mom who was in the kitchen doing mom things.

My dad comes home, walks up the stairs and to the bathroom.  The door was closed, so he knocks on it.

No answer.

Dad – Is someone in there?  Hello?

He keeps knocking, but my lunatic cousin ignored him.  My mom answered him back instead.

Mom – Yes, someone is in there, can’t you hear the water running?

Dad – But he didn’t answer me.

My dad was upset and talking loud enough for my crazy aunt and cousin to hear.

Mom – He probably didn’t hear you, don’t get upset.

I put my hand on his shoulder and said;

Me – Pop just wants some respect in his own house.

Mom – He gets respect.

Me – Not when people don’t answer him.

Mom – He (Robert) didn’t hear him.

Dad – Watch out you’re going to burn your hand!

My mom is notorious for scorching herself, cutting herself, dropping things and breaking stuff in the kitchen just about every day that I lived here.  She was resting her hand inches away from a red hot burner that I was cooking my eggs on.

Mom – Don’t tell me to watch out.  This is my kitchen!  Don’t you think I know my own kitchen?!  Get the hell out of here!

My dad starts laughing and walks away. 

Every time I go upstairs to make breakfast, craziness happens.

My mom started whimpering like a little girl.

Mom – When will he start treating me like an equal?  He talks to me like I’m an infant.

Me – It might be hard to do that when you’re crying…….

Mom – It’s always been like this for years and years.  I’m sick of it.

I stared at my eggs frying in the pan.

Me – Cook eggs cook! 

Now I’m at work.  My last client kicked my ass.  He was a two-hour deep tissue – his back was solid like a rock.  He’s a regular of mine, but doesn’t usually get two-hour massages.  Oh so tired, I feel like a used kleenex floating around in the wind.

There’s a loud beeping sound in Starbucks.

Amanda – Starbucks is going to explooooooooooode.

She’s wearing a little elf hat.

I need to find a different job that doesn’t involve rubbing people.  I’m so tired.  I’m going to be working here for a long time, I just know it.

I had a cancer patient today.  I fell in love with her immediately.  I want to find a job where I can cure cancer, because I don’t think www.spiritualremotehealing.com is working.

I don’t want my break to end.  They’re playing slow psychedelic music.  I’m laying down on my little couch dunking a biscotti into the foam of my latte.

I went to Happy Tuesday yesterday.  First I ran errands, than met Kristina at the Wood n’ Tap for a fish taco wrap, and then ventured to Happy Tuesday.  Dave (my ex), wasn’t there yet.  When he finally arrived, he wasn’t alone.  He was with another ex-girlfriend.

I love Dave, but he’s dumber than a box of hair.  I’m okay with meeting his ex’s, but they aren’t always eager to meet me.

Katie – Why didn’t you tell me she was going to be here?

Dave – I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would mind.

Katie – She’s pretty!  I know you want to make out with her because I want to make out with her.

Me – I just want you to know that I have no interest in dating Dave, or making out with him.

She looks at him, and then at me and says;

Katie – But isn’t he cute?

Me – He’s cute, but I only like him as a friend.

Dave

Katie and I ended up bonding.  She kept giving me hugs all night and wanted to play pool with me.  I  like her, I just wish she didn’t do crack because it messed up her teeth.  She says she doesn’t do it anymore, but the damage has already been done.

Sorry if my life depresses you but….

I’m miserable today.  My dad woke me up by banging on my door at 10 am.

Dad – Come on wake up we have to get your tires.

I was having a weird dream about attending a wedding, and then becoming the bride of that wedding.

Me – Okay, okay, I’m up.

I laid there some more to try to fall back into the dream, but it was lost.

I get up and go to the bathroom.  I can hear Robert upstairs running the water.  It was going to be another cold shower for me today.

My annoyance level was up and beyond grasp of human comprehension.  I take my cold shower and try to wash the conditioner out of my hair while screaming at the ceiling;

“Shut the god damn water off!”

When I got out of the shower, shivering in my bathrobe and towel on my head I yell up again;

“I’m really getting sick of taking cold showers!”

I can hear my aunt upstairs saying, “she likes to take really hot showers that burn her skin.”

I should’ve said something back like, ‘no, I just want to shave my legs without cutting off all the goosebumps.’  But I was too tired.  I’m drained and miserable today, they win.

I finished getting ready and settled myself in my car.  My dad was buying me new tires whether I wanted them or not.  My back tires were as smooth as ass cheeks – seriously, not one shred of tread.

I waited in my car for my dad, but he was fiddling around with something in the driveway.  He takes a tire from the back of his truck and starts rolling it towards my car.

Me – What are you doing with that?

Dad – I’m going to see if I can get tubing put in, it keeps getting flat.

He opens up the back door of my car and goes to shove the muddy tire in.

Me – The trunk!  Put it in the trunk!

I get out of the car and pop the trunk.  There was a big cooler in there that I forgot about from the summer.  It was when I went to the Lilith fair, and we brought beer, liquor and sandwiches. 

My dad’s eyes teared up from the acrid smell when he opened the lid of this offensive cooler.  The water was brown and gross.  There were some unopened beer cans mixed in with the empty ones.  My dad read my mind and told me not to drink them.

He taken the cooler out, put the muddy, wet tire in, and off we went to Sears.  Only two minutes went by before my dad started asking me what my goals are.

Dad – Why don’t you be a nurse?

Me – Because I don’t want to be a nurse, why don’t you be a nurse?

I was so cranky and miserable at this point.

Dad – It’s not all about emptying bed pans, they have candy stripers that do that.

Are there still candy stripers?

Dad – How much do you make working for Melissa?

Me – $35 an hour

Dad – What if you owned that business?  Would you make a lot of money?

Me – No, I don’t know.  I don’t care.   I don’t want to own it.

Dad – Don’t you have any goals?  Any ambition?

Me -Nope.

Dad – You’re your own person, you can do anything you want.

Me – If that’s the case I’m going to live in Thailand.

Dad – Thailand!?  Why Thailand?  Nothing’s there and they hate Americans.

Me – They don’t hate americans, they call westerners Falang, and they love white people. 

My Dad shakes his head.

Me – I’m going to make shoes out of my old tires and hand them out to all the poor people when I get there.

There was an empty coors light can by my dad’s feet.

Dad – You should watch out when you drink.  This shouldn’t be here.

Me – It’s not mine.

Dad – Who’s is it?

Me – Some guys (Hercules).

I have to give a massage down the street.  I can’t catch a break.  I work even on my days off.

Yesterday I had to massage a 500 pound black guy who’s been coming to see me for three years.  I can’t do it anymore.  I hate massaging people, but compared to other jobs, it’s not so bad.  But I do hate it.  Ugh.

Last night when I was massaging the 600 pound man, he upped it to 90 minutes during the massage.   I hate when people do that.  He also said he wants to start coming in every week and between his chiropractor, physical therapist and getting massaged by me, he will get rid of his bad knee’s, bad hips, low back pain……

I wanted to ask him why he doesn’t try to lose some fucking weight, but kept my mouth shut.

I’m miserable today.  Okay, now I really have to go.

Fun with feng shui

I’ve been practicing feng shui as some of you know.  So far I’ve only done my bedroom.  If you seen the eyesore which is my basement, you would understand why I’m keeping to my bedroom for now.  The downstairs of my house is like an indoor flea-market (stock full of flea’s and ants!) – It’s a chaotic wreckage of a room filled with two lifetimes worth of accumulated clutter.  Old appliances from QVC, the first cassette player ever made and a hundred or so 8-tracks, hundreds of records, dust EVERYWHERE.

Anyway, last night I was doing some work in the helpful people section of my baqua.  The book says that if you write down what you wish for in others and place it in a silver container, those wishes will be fulfilled.  I did this last night, and already it’s working.

I wrote down three wishes:

My aunt and Robert will move out (of course that’s my number one)

My clients will love their massages and leave me big tips

I’m always in the right place at the right time

I came into work today and looked at the monitor telling me my scheduled clients for the day – all of them requests!  That never happened before.  It’s hard for that to happen because I work 7 hours in a day.  I only have 4, but one is 2 hours, and one is 90 minutes.

I massaged my first client today (the guy who likes a light touch massage from attractive therapists – you can read that post here).  I massaged him for an hour and afterwards he asked me if it was okay if he got a two-hour next time.

Me – Of course it’s okay, I have a two-hour later today

He handed me $30 and left with a smile.

It’s crazy stuff!

Have you ever been to a chinese restaurant and noticed that most of them have aquariums located near the entrance?  It’s because of feng shui.  Or how they leave bowls of uncooked rice around, sometimes sticking pencils in there?  Feng shui.  Asians are devoted to it.  How can all those millions of people be wrong?  And why don’t more Americans practice it?

Subject change.

Limewire is no longer.  I logged into it this morning and read a message that stated they have a court order against them.

I never given much thought about downloading music for free.  Whether or not it should be illegal.  I figure both arguments have valid points, so it equals out.  And I’ll keep downloading until the scales tip the other way and the option is no longer available. 

Looks like I’m going to have to buy the soundtrack to Les Miserables the good-ol’ fashioned way on amazon, download it to my iTunes and then to my Ipod so I can play it on my little ipod speaker while getting ready for work.

A few years ago I bought this little speaker you can plug into your Ipod – the sound is incredible for such a little speaker.

My next client is a spunky young girl who loves 2 hour massages.  She’s fun to massage because she talks the whole time.

Lol, a worker just knocked over my latte that was half finished and now I get a new one for free!  Wish number three baby, oh yeah.

Santa Clause in the house

Santa Clause is in Starbucks. 

I seriously don’t know what else to write.  Its been a slow week.  My clients have all been somewhat normal, crazy aunt and OCDC are keeping out of everyone’s way.  My friends are all sane and happy for the time being.

He really is a perfect Santa.  Glastonbury plaza really out-done themselves.  His cheeks are merry, his eyes are glistening and he seems genuinely happy to be bringing joy to kids.  He brings a tear to my eye actually.  I’m such a sap. 

Oh no, now I’m having more than just one tear.  I hate that.  I’m such a sentimental sap.

The plaza has been playing christmas carols non-stop since thanksgiving.  Normal people would get sick of hearing them, but I on the other hand, love them. 

Cool people scoff and say, “this song again?”  While I keep my cheesy smile and sing along. 

If you’re ever in the starbucks area and wondering which person I am, just look for the girl on the couch singing along to Xmas carols and crying when she see’s a guy dressed up like Santa.

I’m not usually like this, I’m just tired.  I get like this when I’m tired.  I fell asleep on the couch at work again.  I closed my eyes and shortly after was sound asleep.  I woke up to Trish coming into work, but then fell asleep again because she was quiet as a mouse.

It’s so cold out and there’s a girl outside wearing shorts.  I knew a girl who wore shorts all year round in high school.  She turned out to be a lesbian.  Why do lesbians like shorts so much?

Amanda (girl that works at starbucks) is being very animated today.

Amanda – “Santa Clause in the house.  Santa Clause in the house.” 

I guess I should go back.

Zombies at the door

I went over Holly’s house last night to watch Love Actually.  Every year around this time we watch it non-stop during the holidays. 

After five beers and a cookie, I went home to watch the next two episodes of Spartacus. 

It was around 1 am when my 12-year-old niece came downstairs and knocked on my bedroom door.

Alexis – There’s someone outside with a flashlight.

My crazy aunt was up to her crazy antics.  She’s paranoid.  Every night she hears footsteps outside our house and see’s flashlights in the backyard.

Me – Nobody’s outside.  Aunt Ceil is crazy.  She does this every night.  She’s paranoid.

Alexis giggles and crawls into bed with me.  I had to put Spartacus on pause.

Alexis – Who is the craziest person that lives here?

Me – Robert

Alexis – Second craziest?

Me – Aunt Ceil

Alexis – Is Nana the third craziest?

Me – Absolutely

Alexis – And Poppy is normal?

Me – Yeah Poppy’s normal

Alexis – Aunt Ceil heard doors slamming down here and voices.

Me – It’s just me down here.

My aunt also thinks that I’m a promiscuous slut that sneaks men into the house every night.  My mom calls me late at night asking me if I’m alone.

Mom – Aunt Ceil heard voices down there.  Are you alone?

Me –   It’s just me and four big black dudes. 

(I’m not prejudice, my family is just scared of black dudes.)

Mom – Don’t joke like that.

Me – You would like them, they all look like Eric.

(We have black neighbors that are like family to us.  My mom thinks all black people look like our black neighbor, Eric.)

Mom – Stop it.

Me – We’re just playing playstation.

My aunt is nutty like squirrel poo.

I brought Alexis back upstairs.  My crazy aunt was sitting in the dining room.

Alexis – You have to close the curtain on the sliding door.

Me – Why can’t you do it?

Alexis – I’m scared to do it.

My aunt – I did it last time.

I walked over to the sliding glass door in the kitchen and peered out into the darkness. 

I’m not scared of seeing guys with flashlights or escaped prisoners.  I’m scared of seeing Zombies – not vampires or werewolves, but zombies.  I pictured a zombie with a blood-caked mouth and pointy teeth holding a severed arm, slapping his decomposing carcass against the glass door.

I keep my cool and close the blinds.  My aunt watches us from her chair in the dining room.  Her brain spinning crazy paranoid images in her head.  Much like my own brain.

Alexis – You’re brave.

My aunt is turning Alexis into a scared, paranoid little girl.

Me – Go to bed

I walk back downstairs, turning off all the lights and running into my bedroom.  I’m not scared of darkness itself, but of the zombie’s lurking in the darkness.

I’m sitting in Cheshire Coffee with Holly.  She’s correcting papers.  I’m trying to think of things to write to keep busy.

Brie just joined us.  Now they are talking about teacher stuff.  I’m hungry.  All I ate today were three cookies.

Three cookies

One soy latte

Half a cigarette

Some water