Orange Pumpkin Goodness

We've gone and done it now.

We have an apartment! We have a move-in date, and a chill landlord who is sharing her homegrown tomatoes and cucumbers with us. The apartment is wonderful, it's old and broken but it's OURS. It has a screened-in porch, two bedrooms, and an attic. An attic with a skeleton key! It's fantastic.

I didn't want to tell Wayne's parents yet. We both know how the conversation will go. They'll laugh, saying, "We've heard that before! Hyuckhyuckhyuck" And then Anna would wax territorial, and demand certain weekly visitations, which would be the crux of their dysfunction.

And boy howdy, was I right.

Tony laughed, said he'd heard that before. Then he asked if we were sure we had enough money, and came in to see me (unsuccessful avoidance of the whole mess, I was in our living room). He told me he loved me like a daughter, and that if we were ready, we're ready, and that he knows we're uncomfortable here, but... he doesn't want to see us get messed over, and beyond that he didn't have words. He said he wanted to be mushy, but didn't know what to say, so he walked away.

Now, Wayne and Anna are arguing about "her" time. She's demanding a weekly visitation on Friday nights, as a "bare minimum". She's "earned" it, because Kailey's "been in her life two years". I just heard her say the line, "You want it your way, I want it mine. I'm not talking about this!" Then she turned on Tony, asking, "Why is it just me? Why won't you say something?" He smartly said, "It's not my place." "Oh, so your feelings on this don't count?" "Anna, it's HIS daughter!"

Dead.

Silence.

And now they're back at it. This is ridiculous, and stupid, and GOD I CAN'T WAIT TO LEAVE.

If we could live alone with Tony, we wouldn't be moving out.

Like Frankie Said...

I'm a little tired of everything.

The yelling. The spontaneous bursts of destructive behavior and words.

Last weekend was the best ever. Fun, busy, a little tiring, but overall perfect. No arguing, not even bickering. Then Monday, he came home with the announcement that we are breaking up because apparantly, I'm a horrible girlfriend. He asked me to come back a few hours after giving me "the Talk" and I did come back. I came back with the understanding that I wouldn't be as easygoing about forgiving this as I am most things. That I won't say I love him until I mean it, and if I can't mean it soon, I won't stay around any longer. That I will come to him for hugs and kisses, and he won't push for more than he gets. That he will no longer use guilt to control me, that I will spend time on myself rather than on him, and that he will chip in on financial matters. That he will take responsibility; for his actions, and his words, his finances, and his family. That either we will go to counseling together or he will go on his own. That he will stop calling me the controlling one (although, by the tone of this post, you'd think he's right). I absolutely refuse to take responsibility for his meltdown or the results of it. If he wants me back, and wants me to stay, he will work. Please do me a favor, and unless you're named Deanna, don't ask me how things are. I'll let you know.

Another reason to dislike HER. Standing in the driveway mere moments post-breakup, watching W leave for class, SHE came over and asked what had happened. I told her I didn't know, he just decided he wanted to be single. What do you suppose the first thing she said to me was? Words of comfort? Of hope? Of kindness? No, rather, her first sentence was, "Well, maybe I shouldn't mention this but I want you to know, Anne and I both think Wayne and Alison have feelings for each other, still. I think he probably did this because it's their fate to be together, and they both know it." Then she went on to tell me how he'd called me controlling (in comparison, after making a list and everything with the girls at work... I win in the controlling department. He's the fruitcake, not me) and posessive, and jealous. I could tell most of it was her own opinion of me due to the way she based these accusations off issues she had a problem with, for example, me not allowing porn in the relationship. Some people don't mind, some do. I do. Also, strippers, and ex-girlfriends as confidantes. Friendship is one thing, but you are not discussing our relationship with a past lay, sorry. Anna liked them better due to their deference to her weirdness, I don't put up with that shit.

On a lighter note, I got my hair done. It's nice. I put myself in the capable hands of the incredible "Fifi" (cousin Feanne) and walked away with a lovely cut and color. I dig it. It's back to a natural shade, a bit lighter than my natural color, and I have bangs. Seriously. I bought some new clothes too, out of necessity. (Did I mention SHE has been stealing my clothes? I stole my pants back, finally, after seeing her squeezed into them one time too many, and I will admit without shame that I stole her flip flops and keep them under my desk at work.) I think I look better, which was confirmed by a boy at work - sleazy, to be fair, but still sweet personalitywise - who actually said, "Damn, look at you! ..Damn. You're lookin' all good today, and.. damn." I couldn't help but grin, I've never had such an enthusiastic response to anything. But really, Feanne worked a miracle. All credit goes to her, I will never have my hair cut by anyone else ever again, Amen.

Shake 'n' Bake, Baby, Shake 'n' Bake

I'm currently fighting off the remaining shreds of the many twisted teas and Everclear Jell-o shots I consumed last night.

We began our evening last night at the movie theater, enjoying Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. I have to give Will Ferrel his due; normally, I can't stand his brand of humor. However, this movie was amazingly tolerable. It was funny without being over the top, which is unusual for Will Ferrel. It did, unfortunately, feature Molly Shannon, but it was a bit part as the drunken wife of a team owner.

We moved from there on to Pipes, where we haven't been since the "Tammy" situation came about. She was there, of course, shooting ME dirty looks the whole time. When I'm around her is the only time I feel like I stand a chance in the looks department. She's not ugly, and before I realize what a whore she is, I thought she was kinda cute. But she's not intelligent, and she's fairly obnoxious when drunk.

I went intending to spend some money... know what happened? I bought myself one, and as long as I kept telling jokes and smiling at people, I drank for free! A phenomenon that I hope will be repeated in the near future. A few mikes, a cigarette (since when do I smoke?) and four and a half 120-proof Jell-o shots later, here I sit. I'm not sick, I don't know if I will be, but my stomach is making some weird noises. I should probably eat, but I'm enjoying a pleasant conversation with my tummy... Well, trying, I think it speaks Spanish.

I love my bar family. I hadn't been around in almost two months, and there was no, "Where have you been!", no, "Everyone else comes around more often than you," just, "Heyyy how ARE you?" And hugs and drinks and spare change in my cleavage. I just realized I smell like other people's cologne. My right arm smells like Julie and Cindy, my left arm smells slightly of aftershave, which confuses me because no one there was clean-cut. Someone's faking cleanliness.

I'm forgiven my absenses, and even for the gnarly bag-tag I gave Rick. I was leaning on a railing outside and he delivered a mighty slap to my ass. I don't know why. I suppose he just felt it was necessary. So, without missing a word of conversation (because obviously, I'm THAT cool) I just... took aim and made my knuckles earn their keep. According to Rick, I brought tears to his eyes. I also then went in and put another shot on his tab. Be a jerk to me, fine, but if you don't remember to tell the bartender I'm off your tab, I'm not telling her either.

Once I feel more like myself, I think I'll convince Wayne to bring the baby to his uncle's house. Ricky's seen her twice, Cindy's never seen her. It's sad, I don't know why he excludes his family. He complains that his father never calls him. He called last night while Wayne was out, and Wayne refuses to return his call on the grounds that he never... calls.. him. Return call? What? Something isn't connecting here.