Chaos

Well, I'm gonna start off by saying that I ordered my new computer yesterday for my house, so as soon as that comes, I won't have to use this goddamn computer at work anymore. That means more frequent updates, maybe some pictures (if I can figure out how...) and just a better blog all around.

Second of all, a big "I'm sorry" for not updating sooner. Work hasn't been particularly busy, but I've just felt sooo tired the past week. I know in my last post, Brad had told me not to make plans for Saturday night, which I didn't, but I ended up with a migraine and he had to work overtime at work, so nothing ended up happening over the weekend. My only source of "entertainment" was painting a wall in my house to match another, then getting the bright idea to paint the big wooden door next to this wall, also. Now, in this door is a window. The window is one of those criss-cross patterned windows, where there are like 9 different little squares of glass. I thought, instead of taping up all those little squares of glass, I'd just take the whole frame off so I could paint it seperately (hence, no paint would get on the glass). However, when I jammed the screwdriver between the frame and the door, it put pressure on the glass, and the window exploded all over my kitchen. So there I stood, covered in broken glass, and the phone rings. It's this dumb crotch who called me about a month ago to tell me that I owed my DVD club for a movie (which I had a. never ordered, and b. never received.) She was being very stern with me, saying that "I had to pay for it one way or another before she left for the day, but I could post-date my payment." We had a very heated arguement over why this couldn't wait until Monday so I could dispute this with the club. She told me that I had to pay her before she left for the day. I returned with saying "who the hell gets off work at 11:00 on a Saturday morning, and stop making it sound as if I owe you the money personally." She really didn't like me and I really didn't like her, especially when she refused to let me speak to her supervisor. So anyways, we fought back and forth for a few minutes until I finally realized that I had other things on my plate at the moment, and told "Heather" to call back when she wasn't gonna be such a bitch. She hasn't called back yet. I walked back out to the kitchen, and started sweeping up glass. This is when my migraine began.

The rest of my day was spent on nothing. I left my windowless door and drove around for awhile. I visited my grandmother, who I hadn't seen for awhile because I'd been sick. She was pissed off because winter's not over yet and she's still stuck in the house. I spent a few hours with her, and then took a drive out to the camp. It was so nice out here on Saturday, so I just hung around out there for an hour. It's so funny, when I was younger, like 14 or 15, I used to hate going to the camp. But now, it's kind of become like my Zen garden. Everytime I go out there now, I instantly mellow out. It's so quiet out there, with the brook running in front of the camp, the breeze blowing through the trees, everything is peaceful. I'm an only child, so growing up in my parents' big house, I was used to having my own space, if I wanted quiet, I had it. But now, I live in a smaller house, with 2 other people and their 3 year old son (and yes, I know, it was my idea that they move in, but I obviously didn't give it much thought...) and it's just llike they've taken over my house. They don't discipline their son nearly enough; he pretty much controls their lives, and the worst part is he doesn't know the meaning of the word "no". For example, when he gets up in the morning, he refuses to eat breakfast food. He prefers popsicles or doughnuts or french fries (which he ate this morning, along with some chicken nuggets) which most 3 year olds would ask for. However, most parents would set a bowl of cereal in front of them and say "either you eat this, or you don't eat." Melissa believes that if he misses one meal, that he's going to starve to death, and/or that he's going to hate her for making him eat something that he didn't want. That is really the biggest issue. Melissa won't say no to him because he throws tantrums and won't talk to her for like, an hour. Weren't we all like that when we were kids? After an hour or so, we forgot what we were pissed off about and got over it. No hard feelings. Not to toot my own horn, but my parents disciplined me, and if I wanted things one way, and they wanted them another, it always ended up with mom & dad getting the final word. At the time, it made me mad, but now that I'm an adult, I see that that's how it has to be - you can't let your kids get whatever they want. Stephen (the father) on the other hand, shares the same beliefs that I do - he and I were raised in similar homes (although even though he's 30 years old now, and his mother still calls him every day to make sure he's okay) but he works long hours. He goes to work anytime after 3 a.m., and is lucky to be home by around 6 p.m. so no doubt he's exhausted. I can see his point though, he wants his son do be disciplined, but he doesn't want to get home from working all day and start raging at the little guy. I know he wants to, but then all his son is going to know is his dad being mad at him all the time.

I know that little kids are hyper, and curious about everything. But, I come from a large extended family, of all different age ranges, so there are babies all the time. Quite a few of my friends from high school have started families already, so it's not like I have no other kids to compare him to. No other kid I have ever seen has been as wired as this kid is. He's currently in the process of toilet-training (which he is doing quite well) and yesterday morning, he came running out of his bedroom, saying he had to pee. But when he saw me sitting on the couch, he felt he needed to stop and chat for awhile. It was cute, but I had to cut him off and say "Do you have to pee?" and he goes "yeah" and took off for the bathroom. I heard him do his thing, and then I heard the water running in the sink. I asked what he was doing, and he said brushing his teeth. I wasn't gonna stop the little guy from doing that, plus he already knows how, but after about 10 minutes, I had to go in and see what was taking him so long.

As I walked into the bathroom, all I saw was the waterfall running over the edge of the sink, and the green frog and yellow duck floating around the countertop. The kid was splashing around in the sink, apparently unaware that he was filling my bathroom with water. I yelled "what the hell are you doing???" and he grins and says "playin in the water" so I yanked the plug out of the sink, and the kid actually throws a tantrum because I've ruined his fun. He jumps down off his stool, and proceeds to punch and kick me in the leg. I picked him up under the arms, and carried him into his mother's room. She sat up when I opened the door, and could tell by the look on my face that something wasn't right. I told her what he'd done, and when she looked at him, he said that I was stupid and that he didn't like me. I told him that he was stupid too, and that I didn't like him very much either. That sounds really childish, but believe me, that really pisses him off, and it's actually the only way you can get him to realize what he's done. So we proceeded to clean up the bathroom while he spent some quality time in his bedroom (which, by the way, comes complete with a brand new TV and DVD player that his parents bought him for Christmas!) He's THREE YEARS OLD!!! Not even, his birthday isn't until April. I didn't have a TV in my bedroom until I was like 13 or 14. This kid doesn't even know how to tie his shoes yet and he's got more gadgets than Bill Gates. This, combined with the fact that he lives on french fries and doughnuts, his aunt and I figure he's going to weigh around 190 pounds by the time he's 10 and have some sort of a heart condition.

When it comes to going to bed at night, most kids that age would be put down around what, 8 o'clock or so? This kid doesn't have a set time. Well, they put him to bed around 8, but he's up at least 4 times with excuses ranging from being sick, hungry, not tired, bored, etc etc etc. This is every night. Yes, also a common issue with kids, but he doesn't end up going to sleep until like 11 or later. It's just madness. I dunno, in retrospect it was probably a bad idea that they live with me. The original plan was that Brad move in with me (as a roommate) since he was still living with his parents. But, my roommates and I had an agreement that if either of us got a house, the other could move in, since they lived in a craphole and I lived with my parents. This was something we all came up with like 3 years ago before they even had a kid. So I guess I felt guilty that if I didn't ask them to move in, I'd be dishonouring our agreement. Plus, back then, alcohol was the most important thing on Brad's mind and he felt if he had to pay rent and bills, that he woulnd't have enough left over to get drunk. This was even before he and I started messing around too, so that factor wasn't there. And it's not like I can just tell them that they have to move out, Melissa has been my closest friend since we were babies (ironically, my parents and hers lived together before either had kids) so she's pretty much the first friend I ever had. And Stephen, although I've only been friends with him for 6 years, he's now like a brother to me. And I don't want to make it sound like I hate their kid, because I don't. He's a good kid, underneath everything else, and I've had a hand in raising him.

So I dunno, I guess I just needed to vent. I went through 22 years of having my own space in my parents' house, to having no space in my own house. It's all a part of adjustment, so I'm told. I can't help but wonder if Brad had moved in with me, if anything would have happened between us. Most likely, considering that we're both bisexual, and he claims that he's "had his eye" on me for years. It would be much more convenient if we lived together. We wouldn't have to sneak around so much; Bitch would be there a lot more, but that's okay, I guess. She's not that bad sometimes.

That all being said, I'm now going to copy-and-paste the email I received from Brad last night:

Hey,

I was gonna call u but I thought u might be busy at work. I'm just sittin here, gettin ready to go play hockey. I'm fuckin tired and don't really wanna play, but I guess they're short players and I missed Saturday's game, so I'm gonna go. I haven't really had a chance to talk to you since last week - that was fuckin awesome. Sorry about Saturday night, they were short there too and I could use the extra money. Someone said you didn't feel good anyways. I called your cell but it must have been off or something, it went rightt o voice mail. I dunno what my schedule is for this weekend yet but I'll let u know. I can't fuckin wait for you to suck my cock. that's all I thought about since last Wednesday. I dunno what you do to me but no one else has ever sucked me as good as u do. I know I've told u that before, but I've been so goddamned horny all day today and thats all I can think about. I'm gonna pay u back for that ride u gave me - it's my turn now bitch ;) I dunno what (his brother) thought when he went upstairs, he gave me a really weird look, and I went up about 20 mins later and it smelled like sex so bad (or good) in my room.. fuck it, I don' care. See if u can find out if anyone is using the camp this weekend. I'm thinkin right now that I prolly have to work Sunday morning, so see about Friday night. I think (Bitch) is goin to her moms for the weekend so that'd be perfect. Anywayz, I better get ready to go. Write me back or gimme a call when u find out what the deal is... Stay hard for me ;)
B-Rad

So that's the deal there. As far as I know, the camp is free Friday night. I haven't talked to him yet to see if he knows his schedule. My luck, he'll end up either having to work Friday night, and/or Bitch will end up not going away. You never know tho, maybe things will just go my way for once... Here's hopin'!