2003-11-21
"Girrrl, I got some'n ta tell ya"
The subject line is referring to an intro on Stankonia, by the way. Shana should appreciate that. By the way Shana, here's a (playful) Fuck You for getting ink. I am now the only one left out of the loop. Which usually doesn't matter to me, but I want a tattoo. I just don't know of what, that's all. Or where for that matter. It's okay, I still love ya. Fucker.
Sooo I finally got done cleaning the house last night around 5 or 6. Oh, apparently Dad had nothing to do with that long list Mom left me yesterday, so she gets to pay me for doing all that stuff. Oops. I wonder if I get to charge her more for being such a bitch lately. Hmmmm hmmmm. Apparently Dad had also said nothing about cleaning those goddamned tins (you know, the ones that took 4 hours to wash), so Mom will be paying for that, too. Whoops. I will get money out of her too, by God, because she's the reason all the cleaning was such a pain in the ass. My back still aches, and my hands are all nasty now from all the scrubbing, etc. I had to do. But I'm DONE!
I found out Mom's been stressing everyone over nothing, since she was all worried everything wouldn't be done in time (let me just say she's been a huge bitch and I fear she may never regain the use of her inside voice, because all she knows how to do is scream) . . . yeah, the relatives didn't even show up till 10 something last night. Yuh.
Since I knew they wouldn't be getting in till late (and I still hadn't seen James since he's been back because I've been so so busy), James and I made plans to 'go out to dinner'. Meaning we hit Arby's quickly, then got a room. Yeahhhh. Quite simply, that was the greatest sex I've ever had. It just keeps getting better. It was very passionate, and I loved it.
Afterwards we hit up Walmart to go monitor shopping (you have to literally punch James's for it to work). I saw a friend, and stopped to talk to her in the lobby of Walmart. We were chatting, and I was looking around, you know, just taking in my environment, when I involuntarily sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere. Jason. As in, the first serious boyfriend I ever had, who raped me and was just nasty in general. Possessive, obsessive, the whole nine. Made me dress up in only clothes he liked (as opposed to things I wanted to wear b/c I have a personality of my own), from American Eagle, no less. Which is one of the main reasons I refuse to shop at that store, unless I'm just buying basics and Dad gives me his card. It really shook me up, despite how much I tried to regain my composure. He and his cousin (blegh) walked by, went to some car I'd never seen before, and apparently he was looking straight at me for quite some time. I wouldn't know, as I refused to look at him, but James filled me in. But he did go out of his way to drive by us (James and I had walked back to the car, so I could grab a cigarette, because after that, I needed one), speeding up as he drove by, and either he or his cousin yelled out something of the window, but I don't know what. James was ready to crowbar his ass, but I persuaded him otherwise. For the time being.
I could still take him to court, but I would really rather not. Not only because I have no evidence other than my own word [till later, I didn't tell anyone; people knew we were having sex, but not under what circumstances. Plus I did want to have sex sometimes, so no, it wasn't always rape. But when I say no, and he went ahead, or I told him to stop, and he refused, guess what. That's rape. But I don't feel my case would be strong enough, I really don't.], but it would be ripping open all those wounds I've so carefully healed and I'd have to go through it all over again. Which I really do not want. Am I being selfish? I might be. But can I not be selfish about that, when I certainly didn't get to be selfish about the circumstances in the first place? I do know that out of the courts or in, it will be settled.
Onto happier things, I finally got to see the Focus last night (my car). It's so pretty. And James even bought this tiny Tinkerbell pin and stuck it in the visor for me. So sweet. I really like the car, AND it came with three free CDs, haha. I now have The Eminem Show, an Oasis album, and the first Matrix soundtrack. Yeahhhh. I'll get a picture of my car later, after we clean it, etc. It's so cute. I'm so in love with it, it's ridiculous. Which is funny, because before I saw it, I was happy about it, but it wasn't exactly my car of choice. And then last night I saw it, and was grinning so big my face hurt. It's so cute. My car and I are in love. And oh hey, guess what?? I finally have a car to go take my test in. Hell yeah.
I'm so deliriously happy, it's ridiculous. Did I mention I got back my James, you know, the cuddly one? We're hardcore apartment shopping this coming week (b/c the places are closed during the weekend, and my family's here). And oh yeah, one day we're getting married.
Damn my back muscles are sooooore. Fuck scrubbing floors.
After all the fun, James and I went to my house and waited for the relatives to arrive. I forgot how happy seeing my aunt, uncle, and especially my mom's mom makes me. It's been a while. Oh well, it's their fault for moving from Mobile (3 hours away) to Tennessee (7 hours away). They're so cool, though. Yes, James met the family, which went nicely. Interestingly, they didn't ask any really probing questions, just what he's doing with his life, that's all. Grandma (who the rest of the family, younger than me, calls Gammie, but I feel weird doing so, as that nickname picked up after I was 8 and was then accustomed to calling her Grandmaw at my laziest) did ask rather loudly if I was still planning on moving out (without looking at James, though knowing the question fully included him; way to go on her subtlety?). To which I said there was a large possibility, but I didn't really say anything one way or the other. I don't really want to make anyone angry right now, but I still am moving out. So I'm not quite sure how to handle it. It would make me the most comfortable if I moved out right after Christmas, but I still feel like the sooner I get out, the better for my mental well-being.
Now that I'm thinking about it, James was dressed rather conservatively, so they didn't see his tattoos, just his lip ring, which they may have not noticed, as the living room was only lit by a few lamps. Hahahhaa. And though my grandmother is prejudiced some what against black people (though she'll never admit to it), she has yet to say anything about James being asian. Probably because the last time I heard a slightly rascist remark from her I bitched her out about like there was no tomorrow. Perhaps 'bitched' is too strong a word, because I didn't curse, and I was as pleasant as possible, but boy, was I angry. I was hoping she and I would spend some time together, just the two of us, but Mom took today off, so I wonder if we'll get to or not. She said to tell her if I'm moving out, I think because she's giving me stuff to help out. I don't know, we will see. I think I will tell her, that Yes, I am moving out, but I am not yet sure when. It will be within the next couple of months, though. That seems like the best idea so far.
It's a pretty, sunny day ,though it is a bit cool (but hey, it is November). I was so exhausted since I have not only been working on the house like it was going out of style (which, if you've ever seen my house, you would understand the amount of hard work that would have to take; I live with slobs), but have also not been able to sleep lately. I slept until about 9:30 this morning, and was wakened up by my Mom's ridiculously loud voice in the living room. She swears she went in my room twice earlier to wake me up and tell me to get ready to go with them today, but I don't remember that at all. I find it funny that I didn't wake up when she intentionally tried to wake me up, but when she was just talking in the next room. Odd.
Mom and Grandma (Gammie? My cousins are very Southern, bordering on being rednecks, down to the Dixie Outfitters shirts, retch) went to Dothan to do some shopping and to go to lunch. They invited me, but I passed. I'm too tired to do anything right now, number one, and two, I really don't feel like hanging out with Mom right now. She's so self righteous . . . then curses up a storm, screaming at my siblings. But yells at me if I say "eff you". Not "fuck you", just "eff you". What the fuck. And then she curses, using fuck, not eff, mind you, maybe two minutes after yelling at me. Brilliant. She's so self-righteous, and practically hates me for wanting to move out with James. They won't even let him spend the night anymore, not even on the living room floor. Yet...wait. My mom spent every weekend at my Dad's house (with my Christian grandparents) before they got married, and then were engaged and got pregnant with me, therefore having to get married right away. But I'm in the wrong? I'm not pregnant, mind you, and James and I are getting married (I'm just not sure when). And the thing is, it wouldn't make them any happier if we just got married, because they are convinced he wouldn't be able to support me (because men should always support women, women shouldn't have to work, right? Like my mom, right?) with his kidney disease. So yeah. I really don't give a flying fuck what they think, yet I do try to keep the peace. I'm glad my dad and I are getting along right now (really well, no less), but I almost wish he'd get really angry at me and kick me out, so I could be like "Okay, bye", and move out then. Sigh. There's no winning this one, I don't think. My grandmother keeps saying that I should do what I feel is right, but then stresses quite heavily that I will then be responsible for my choices, I had better be sure of what I am doing, and be prepared to pay any consequences for it. Nothing like scare tactics, I tell ya. Sigh.
I do believe I am going to go scrounge up something to eat, then possibly go back to bed. (Hey, my ass is tired.) Or read my latest book, When I Was Five I Killed Myself by Howard Buten. It has been described as a kind of French Catcher in the Rye. I really hated Catcher in the Rye, yet usually love books that are like it. I still think Stephen Chbosky's The Perks of Being a Wallflower is this the Catcher of the Rye for this era. And it's a million times better. I can't wait till the movie that is being made about it comes out. The author of the book is writing the screenplay, so it shouldn't be too inaccurate. Nothing like any of Nicholas Spark's book-turned-movies, anyway. Those are downright horrible, as far as accuracy go. Good lord.
Okay, I'm out.
aigre-douce at 10:57 a.m.