Good Times, Bad Times

June 30, 2007 at 1:30 AM | Posted in Journal | 1 Comment
  Whenever I need a title, Zeppelin never lets me down.  we had a family reunion Saturday, and this particular carnage revolves around that. . .
  About a week ago, my granddaughter said she wanted to go with us to the reunion.  My daughter or son couldn’t go, and none of the other grandkids could either.  I suppose I could have asked The Storm if she wanted to go–
  Jessica is 15, the oldest of Mike’s kids, the oldest grandchild.  Last time she went somewhere with us (My dad’s funeral in Mt Vernon, 80 miles away) it somehow got back to The Storm that we smoked in the car (gasp!) and alcohol was consumed (say it aint so!)  Neither of these are things she has never experienced before.  Jessica claims she told her grandma nothing, but it was brought up at the divorce mediation.  However, it held no bearing, really.
  Anyway, she came with us, and brought a friend.  Cheyenne, the same age, I think, or 14.  Cute, sassy little girl.  Quite a tart.  She’s going to be a whore in a few years.  Not being.. . judgmental, really; I just call ’em like I see ’em.  I’ve seen alot of them like her.
  My sister, the one with whom we live, was supposed to go, but someone she worked with died, and even though the funeral service was in the morning and the reunion was in the afternoon, this was apparently too much to fit into her busy schedule.
  My sister, by the way, has invited someone to live with us.  Without saying anything to us until he was already there, she just picked up this guy, a friend of a friend, homeless, jobless, direction-less.  It’s one thing for Detroit to be there:   We had been together for a while already; we are an established couple.  Detroit contributes to the house–more, in fact, than my sister does.
  She just picks up this guy, fucks him a few times, and now he needs a place to stay, so she invites him in, like a goddamn stray.  Or a vampire.
  And that’s what concerns me:  he could be a vampire.  Not a "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" vamp, but a human one.  A young guy, no job-no money-no prospects, sees Judy, older woman, recent inheritance and a place to stay as a meal ticket.  My sister is desperate to be with someone, lets this gonif in the house without running it past us first–the other people who live there–because she knew it was not quite right.

  At the reunion, I get a chance to talk to my brother.  We (me, my brother, my sister) had agreed at the outset that it would be a good idea, this living arrangement.  Now I wonder.  I can’t . . .abandon my sister, she’d end up losing the house, be in a homeless shelter–
  No, that’s not true.  She would find some friend or family member to take her in, while they all cursed my name for letting this happen to her.  She doesn’t want to admit it, but she needs someone to take care of her.
  And I don’t want to lose the house, either.  There is a SIGNIFICANT advantage to not having a house payment.  Forever.  But while my sister thinks it’s an equal partnership, it’s not.  Not by a long shot.  I pay the goddamn bills, I make the fucking rules, I am in charge.
  What does she provide?  The house?  She didn’t provide the house.  Mom and Dad did.  She just happened to be here, like a fucking turtle left in the basement.
  So we are heading for a showdown.  Or at least a talk.  Not sure what to say yet, how to handle it.  I discussed it with my brother, looking for some answers, some guidance, some ideas.  What I got was a heartfelt shrug.. . .He really, really didn’t know what to tell me.
  But we discussed it, as well as his problems.  (–But back to me)  My sister wants to think she’s like Mom.  She is. . . and she isn’t.  Why in the fucking world did she pick Mom’s most negative traits to emulate?  Stupid and ridiculous.
  Stupid, and stubborn about it.  Knows what she knows, and it’s always wrong.  Bad ideas, bad plans. Doesn’t know shit about how things work in the world.  Wants to hold the house over my head, like *She* let me live there.  Christ in a sidecar.  Most of that has.. .blown over.  I think.

  Speaking of Jesus, and how he rolls:  When I discussed all of this with my brother, he did recommend I pray about.  I had some misgivings.  Not about God, about me.  I’ve been away, I’ve fallen from Grace, if indeed I ever resided therein.  I haven’t felt right, felt worthy–of being able to pray.
  My brother is a local leader in the same church I belong to, but in Illinois.  We discussed, and he explained, that even though I am "not living the word," I should never feel like I don’t deserve to at least pray to God, seek advice, seek solace.  Seek comfort.    
  And answers.  It made me feel alot better.
  The most important thing is, Detroit is unhappy with the situation.  It’s really irrelevant how I feel; she’s unhappy, I have to do something about it.  I’m not especially happy either, but I’ve learned to put up with enormous amounts of bullshit (See re: my marriage to the Storm); this is no more an inconvenience than someone leaving a door open, and some flies get in.

  Need to find the right pest strip.

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1 Comment »

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  1. I am so glad you took action because your Love was so unhappy.
    I do hope the situation stays better now, but if it doesn\’t.
    I know you will have another talk around the kitchen table.
    Communication is so important.
    Actually, when I pray (its more like just talking) its to people I know, who died.
    Usually I talk with dad,mom,  sister, Aunt..etc. sometime all of them. I figure if they can\’t help
    they can get the message to someone who can.
    During Katrina I begged them all to sit on our roof to keep it from flying off. It did stay on 🙂
     


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