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September, 2006 SuckerpunchNot a lot happened today. Insomnia and an almost obsessive desire to learn more cat-related Japanese kept me up all night; and I wasn't able to go to sleep as I had remembered that I had a weekly online lesson in two hours.... 9 AM. So I made myself stay awake long enough to take the class, then clambered into bed and passed out. Sure, I was woken several times by a plumber with noisy machinery right outside my window; and I scared him half to death by blearily pulling the curtain open and mumbling "...what the hell?" while he stood there openmouthed and stared at me. What, did somebody do horrible sexual things to me in my sleep and I was missing my clothing? Did I open the window naked or something? Did I miraculously sprout a second head from my shoulder? Was my face and a horrific story plastered across the evening news the night before? No? Then stop fucking staring at me you lunatic. You woke me and yet you live because I haven't the energy in my body to rend you limb from limb. Count your blessings, human, and remove yourself from my sanctuary before my patience grows thin and I end you.
I didn't sleep well.
At least now I can say nyan correctly.
I woke up at 4:30 PM and promptly dragged myself out of bed, into some clothing and onto the first bus up top to the local supermarket. I'd gotten kinda sick of everyone eating my food, so I went and bought some more with the specific intention of either hiding it or spiking it then hiding it. Ginger beer, juice and goreng noodles. Ah, the dietary wonders of the single student. Hello, cholesterol.
I had to wait forty minutes for the bus. I was in the center of town, in the bus depot itself. Whoever controls the public transportation system up here needs to die. The world will suck slightly less.
On my trip up there I had sent a text message to my father to say hi and asking him to call me. I wanted to talk to him, since last time was several weeks ago.
For the most part he's okay. Except financially.
Are you ready?
Get this.
A young woman who works for his company (I believe she handles all the paperwork and other stuff as such) has been sent to jail. For embezzling from her company over several years. I remember seeing it on the news but I didn't think it was actually connected to someone I knew.
According to both the news story and my father, everyone in the company had lost quite a lot of their money.
My father personally lost around ten grand.
Now, I understand money is a material thing. It is important if you plan to eat and live, but it is a material thing and basely unimportant in the long run.
But, I'm bordering dangerously close to a miser. I know how much money is figuratively worth and its importance to a man with a family, two cars and a mortgage and to a homeless guy with an empty bottle in his right hand. With the way I manage my budget, almost every dollar is put to good use whether paying for bills, food or to off the last fucker who pissed me off.
Ten thousand dollars is a LOT of money.
Dad told me that a tip-off meant that the woman was arrested right as she was trying to flee her home. Personally, I wish it had been the Yakuza knocking on her front door. I mean, as it is I have no respect or sympathy for thieves. Don't say that stealing is a necessity for some. The stories of people being arrested for stealing food are touching and also fake. When you turn on the evening news and you hear about someone being sentenced to four years' prison for stealing a loaf of bread, you let me know. In the meantime however, people will keep stealing money; not food.
But what really pisses me off is the amount of nerve this woman has. She knows these people; she's a coworker. She knows their names and what they're like; she knows that they work hard and they do their job; she knows they're a long way away from their families and she knows that they're working so hard to support their wives and children.
And she stole from them anyway.
I cannot begin to describe how much this disgusts me.
I have a migraine, so I'm going to go drink something fizzy and go to bed.
And I'm going to tell everyone in the house that I'm getting a drink and going to bed. I'll be needing a good alibi. September, 2006 A Whole Big Barrel Of SuckI just got off the phone with Diss. She'd called to let me know our evening plans were officially cancelled.
Bummer.
See, I don't get to catch up with Diss as often as I'd like to. Between her jobs, her family and other miscellaneous life-related things plus the fact she lives a half hour's drive away means we rarely get to even have lunch in the mall. The last couple of weeks have been different though; for example last Saturday we went to a Zone 3 in the city - laser tag - with her younger siblings Michael and Emily, and it was fun. We were going to be going again tonight; and indeed I was waiting in the lounge room watching, god forbid, Monster-In-Law and wearing as much dark cotton as I own up until the phone call.
Now, I don't mind that our plans were cancelled. Like I said, most of the time Diss is too busy anyhow so I can understand that. It's the reason that's bugging me.
Her mother banned her.
Now, let me put this in perspective. She banned her daughter, who graduated high school with perfect marks and got into Monash University, one of the very best this country has to offer, has two jobs, does a lot of the housework and frequently helps out with her siblings not to mention is responsible enough to hold a Learner's Permit.
She banned her daughter for not doing one thing.
ONE thing.
And no, I don't know what it is. I do know however that given what Diss already does as part of her everyday life asking for anything more should be punishable by beheading. Every time I've visited she's stopped three or four times in the middle of the film or card game or thrashing my sorry ass in Budokai to go and do a fifteen-minute chore. And I have met Diss's mother and for the most part she's rather nice.
Note the words "for the most part".
Also remember, smiles are not good. Sharks always smile. A horse that is smiling is planning something.
The woman is a Nazi at times. Not to mention has the sweet temprament of a spoiled five-year old. I've seen it in action.
I just don't understand how this could keep happening.
Right now I want to bus it out to Diss's place, knock politely on the door and ask to speak with her mother. And out of kindness for the mother of my best friend, I won't set her on fire.
I will, however, give her one HELL of a reality check.
For crying out loud, look at me. I'm living with a friend of mine in a household where the primary methods of communication are cursing and yelling and both are often used in combination. I'm doing home schooling after dropping out of regular high school because I found out they'd lied to me about what I required to graduate, I rarely speak to anyone, I can't drive, I can't get a decent job because I can't get into the city each and every day and nor do I have the experience to get a job involving something else other than flipping burgers, I haven't spoken to my mother in months, up until early this year I hadn't seen or spoken to my father in nine and a half years, I'm grouchy, easily irritated and have a fondness for cheesecake, tomato juice and scaring small children and adults alike.
What Diss's mother needs to do is snap the fuck out of it. Daughter or no, being their mother is not an excuse to rule their lives. Parents aren't supposed to be rulers, they're supposed to guide their children, let them explore and learn about the world around them and thus let them grow into intelligent and responsible adults; not pressure them like this. Half of the time when I talk to Diss she's in a deep depression, due to her family or more often her mother. Hell, she was so depressed when she called me this afternoon I could barely hear her and I've had enough; but painfully I can't do anything because this is not my battle. Diss has to be the one to break free of this otherwise she'll be caught like this for the rest of her life. And I can say this from personal experience because I was in her position once.
And as for you, Diss's mother; pull your head out of your television set. Quit trying to mold your child into the "perfect" daughter and be grateful for what you have in her because it's far more than most people her age have or ever will accomplish. Stop treating her like a Disney character or a pet you're trying to train and more like who she is - your own flesh and blood.
And while you're at it, the hospital called. They said your heart is too shrivelled to be used in a donation. Also you have cancer in the head and you're going to die.
The anagram of "mother in law" is "woman hitler". I hope Diss falls in love with and marries a cute boy who's just like her and achieved everything she has. Because that will drive her mother insane; and the only people I've ever met who are that callous and uncaring are in a nursing home.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go hunting for my address book. This incendinary grenade won't mail itself. September, 2006 Brass Knuckles, BiiatchI'm awake. That's obvious. September, 2006 You Reeeeally Suck And I Hate YouA quick nod to Slightly Damned, who has a fanart avatar that is the source of today's title. They can be found here, http://www.raizap.com/sdamned/ awesome webcomic, you must read it. Mainly because if you're anything like Sakido then you will know I am pissed.
Long day. Okay, so I have to get up at seven thirty. I can deal. I get to spend the day with Chan and my sister Green who is up here for several days. Cool. I get my storage back after a year and a half, which means all of my notes, books, research and semi-precious stuffed animals from my not-so-innocent childhood will be returned. Super.
The day went well for the most part. Aside from a headache springing up due to Green's high-pitched gossiping and Chan's enthusiastic fangirl-ism, it was pretty cool. Ran into several other friends (including Diss) and had lunch with the two of them. Also as I am a softy I bought both Chan and Green a copy of Diablo each as a present; as well as getting Chan two DVD rentals and a Yu-Gi-Oh structured deck for her birthday. I knew I shouldn't have let her choose her present.
It's when Green and I had to leave to go pick up our stuff that things started to get distinctively dumb.
First up; no buses running to the correct location. This means a forty-five minute walk. That's good; I can deal with that. Except this was at ten to two in the afternoon - midday sun. I live in a tropical climate in a country with no ozone layer; and the Wet Season is fast approaching which means the humidity is steadily rising until the rains arrive. Which made the walk back to my aunt's house (where Green is staying) a sticky, dripping and overall unpleasant experience.
When my aunt finally arrived we went to go get our stuff. For some god-unknown reason we had agreed to grab our mother's legal documents (birth certificates, electricity bills, warranties, etc. My mother is so thrifty it's a wonder she isn't Jewish) and send them down to her.
So we arrive at AussieMove. They're expecting us and they've already opened our container. All we have to do is go in and take what we want. The rest will be boxed back up and prepared to be sent down. The bulky items she can't keep, such as the refridgerator and the washing machine will be auctioned off a bit later. Cool.
Green and I open the boxes and quickly isolate whose box is whose - one's mine, one's Green and Red's, one's filled with kitchen gear, etc. After making sure I found everything I had one of the workers take me to the container so I could grab my keyboard; an ancient Yamaha that used to belong to my grandfather until he gave it to me. It's old and the volume control is busted but I still treasure it. Anyhow, I grab it of the top of the dormant refridgerator and meet Green back at the door. We also grabbed our mother's battered suitcase; a big blue clunker.
Just as we're about to leave, the AussieMove manager stops us. We're not allowed to take the keyboard or blue suitcase.
Huh?
He explains that our belongings are going to auction in a few weeks as nothing has been paid on them; those items that are worth anything will be sold to recompensate the company. Those personal possessions which are worthless are left to be collected; and anything uncollected or unsold will be destroyed.
Okay, so if my keyboard isn't sold it will be incinerated. Shit. I ask the guy how much to buy my keyboard back from him.
He tells me I'm unable to do so because even though I am the son of the woman who is doing business with them, and it's MY stuff in their facility, I'm unable to pay for or otherwise buy anything in their care if it's not my name on their paperwork. He also tells me it's company policy to not allow the owners to purchase their own belongings at an auction; which makes sense because otherwise everyone would simply buy back everything and would end up paying only a fraction of what they owe.
So because I'm not the legal holder, I can't buy my own keyboard back. And because I'm directly related to the owner, I can't buy it back to save it from the incinerator.
Fuck that.
Green and I grabbed what we could and left cursing under our breaths. I got my research and my animals and Green got her books, so not a total loss.
But I am furious with my mother.
She'd been telling me for months that she had or was going to pay off a little on our storage. And according to the manager and all the paperwork I could possibly demand to see, I was a damned fool to believe her. I suppose I should have known better than to trust a woman who came home so drunk she could barely walk at least once or twice a fortnight.
So because of her lies, MY personal belongings that I couldn't collect will be given to strangers, charity or the furnace. MY things that I've kept and looked after for years will be burned because she was too damned lazy or drunk to pay for them and everything else my sisters and I owned like she was telling us.
That keyboard may not have been much, but it was important for several reasons. First off, my grandfather gave it to me. He's alive and in pristine health; but I rarely see him and I looked up to him a lot as a kid. Even now I still admire him for his accurate judgement and insight so powerful it's almost eerie. He's a clever and generous guy; and the fact he gave me HIS keyboard made me smile so hard I almost split my lip. Also, it's one of only two possessions my mother didn't pawn off or sell behind my back to pay the bills; that wouldn't have been in danger if she stopped her damned binge drinking. As it is I've already lost over five hundred dollars worth of equipment to her, including birthday presents from friends and family.
The first item was a deteriorating laptop my grandmother gave me. I personally repaired it, buying the parts and tools needed out of my own pocket and reprogrammed it into a decent machine for my schoolwork and gaming. She destroyed it in a drunken rage when she came home at four in the morning and decided that since I was up so late on a Friday night I'd somehow become some sort of traitor. I've never forgiven her for that.
And now my only other possession that she could never take away from me, a present from my grandfather, will be sold or destroyed and I don't have a damned say in the matter because of her lies and negligence.
This is after she tells me to my face that she hates me for deciding to move out. And after she tells me everything that's happening up here is my own fault; seemingly ignoring all of the good things that have happened and then telling me that moving back in with her is the only way I can save face. And after she bombards me with childish demands to write every week and call every two days; and when I refuse to write and tell her I will call once a fortnight and tell her she can't baby me simply because I've moved out, she told me I was just like my father (a compliment to me, unknown to her - she thinks we ALL share her unbridled hatred and therefore that was supposed to be a soul-shattering insult) and hung up on me.
This is the last straw.
That woman is dead to me.
Green and I get the last laugh though.
You see, the reason they wouldn't let us take the blue suitcase was because they aren't allowed to open them. Okay, so we'll just show them what's in there - my mother's seashell collection, her legal documents and her jewellery.
We couldn't open it either. Because it was locked.
The stupid woman had demanded we get her documents but neglected to tell us she had locked it or where the key was assuming she doesn't have it with her. And she expected us to somehow work our way around the fifteen hundred dollar bill to save her things. Yeah, we'll get right on that.
I was able to grab all of my things except the keyboard. Green grabbed all of her things and the two things Red had requested we get for her. And I know that my grandparents are the legal holders of several copies of some of my mother's documents; including Red and Green's birth certificates.
So if my mother pays up and gets our stuff back, no problems. But assuming that my mother has no intention to pay, which is likely, her blue suitcase containing every bill, filled-out form, her court-related documents (no, she's not a lawyer. These particular documents pertain to several failed attempts at divorcing my father without his knowledge and just how close she's been to being locked up for being drunk and disorderly), personal papers such as her ultrasounds when she was pregnant with me, Green and Red respectively, her patent designs, medical records and her jewellery will all be destroyed. If she breaks her word this time, she'll be the only one to lose anything; and by anything I mean EVERYTHING. I know I should feel sorry or worried for her but I just don't. It's with savage glee that I'm anticipating her reaction. This would be a fitting repayment for her avarice and her selfishness; and it would be the sweetest revenge I could ever hope for.
I wonder if Green and Red feel the same.
That reminds me... according to Green; who also does schooling through the NTOEC, I am in some fairly serious trouble. The strange part is that she was given quite a few details. And they directly contradict what I was told when I enrolled there. Now either Green is exaggerating or was misinformed; or some government assholes are playing games with me. Either situation is possible and I won't stand for either of them. On Monday when the NTOEC reopens for the week I am going to call if not go in person and find out just what the hell they think they're doing.
And roomie's youngest sister is being a foul-mouthed, loud little meatsack, which isn't helping my migraine which, due to all the noise and stress, has risen to a point that two Panadol and two Ibuprofen taken at once had no effect.
Lucky I wasn't allowed to have my keyboard back. I had hidden a butcher's cleaver in its casing in order to keep it a secret while we moved.
Jesus tapdancing Christ I wish I had it right now...
When you get to Hell, tell them I sent you. You'll get a group discount. |
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