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It is extremely hard out here for a pimp
Nov. 3rd, 2011 12:00 amI keep meaning to write about things I've done that I've enjoyed, such as the Caps convention, attending the Caps-Cats game, making cupcakes, throwing the annual Halloween party, and so forth, but then stuff in my house breaks-- so far, the dishwasher, the garbage disposal, the carpet portion of the vacuum cleaner, the sink, the toilet, and Louise. So I have been mostly stomping around the house being angry at various things, including but not limited to leaves, my vacuum cleaner, the toaster oven, the freezer, (it was a bad week for appliances), the roof raccoons, and on, and on.
(The neighbors now think I am beating Louise, by the way. Something with her medications, her own natural lack of hand-eye coordination, and willful persistence of trying to do household chores when she's gorked out on sleep medication, have meant she's constantly covered with terrible bruises. So now, I'm not only perceived as an unfaithful, polyamorous lesbian, they also think I'm an abusive one. In fact, every time she goes home for the weekend, the neighbors always seem to ask after her, to make sure, I guess, I haven't killed and buried her in the backyard. "She's visiting her family," I say, and they give me the side-eye something awful.
Also, there was that time last week when I had to call an ambulance for her-- she's mostly fine now, no need to get up-- and they sent a fire truck for good measure, and the entire neighborhood turned out on the lawn to watch the affair. I have told her she is ruining my reputation, but she just thinks it's funny. No one believes who the real abuser is. And every single goddamn time she's gone into the hospital, I've had a friend visiting-- this time it was the lovely and talented![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mercuriosity, who is as always a delight-- and the neighbors get their, "Oh, the poor dear, she's being cheated on again" look. Anyway.)
So, I coped with it by carving a hockey-themed jack-o-lantern (stop judging me, I like projecting my fandoms onto gourds, who doesn't), and also making and eating an entire pan of Rice Krispie treats. And buying way too much beer for the party, to the point where anyone who looked in our fridge would assume we were frat guys since the entire lower shelf is beer, only not, because I am a snob about beer. And because the side door is all filled with wine, which I understand gives you a couple classy points in the alcohol standings. I also sliced up a mattress box for recycling with a box-cutter, which was a lot like trying to field-strip a moose with a pocket knife. If you ever want to work your aggression out, I highly recommend that last activity. The box, I mean. Not the moose. It might be difficult to get a moose on short notice, or at least one of truly excellent quality.
The Halloween party was pretty awesome, and no one ended up in the hospital or in jail as a direct cause of it, as in past years, so I consider it a success. The pumpkin unfortunately got smashed, but that was to be expected.
( Some recent conversations submitted without comment. They're mostly about Catholicism but there's also a fair bit about bears, porn, and Scotsmen. )
My second eldest brother proposed to his girlfriend this past month, so I'm the last single soldier standing in my family. I'm thrilled for him, but also cognizant of the fact that now my mother's full attention is going to fall on me, since she won't rest until I'm married and popping out a kid. Which doesn't truly bother me, as those are things I do want for myself-- marriage and children, I mean-- but I don't particularly look forward to being the only one now at family gatherings getting the, "So... when are you going to settle down?" question, especially given how all my crazy Catholic cousins all married and propagated before the age of twenty four, and of the two who didn't, one is a nun and the other is a freshman in college, so, yep.
In other news, the Dr. Pepper 10 ad campaign can suck my balls. This men vs. women advertising thing is getting real old. Oh! And it is apparently International Sandwich Day. FEEL FREE TO TELL ME ABOUT THE BEST SANDWICH YOU EVER HAD.
(The neighbors now think I am beating Louise, by the way. Something with her medications, her own natural lack of hand-eye coordination, and willful persistence of trying to do household chores when she's gorked out on sleep medication, have meant she's constantly covered with terrible bruises. So now, I'm not only perceived as an unfaithful, polyamorous lesbian, they also think I'm an abusive one. In fact, every time she goes home for the weekend, the neighbors always seem to ask after her, to make sure, I guess, I haven't killed and buried her in the backyard. "She's visiting her family," I say, and they give me the side-eye something awful.
Also, there was that time last week when I had to call an ambulance for her-- she's mostly fine now, no need to get up-- and they sent a fire truck for good measure, and the entire neighborhood turned out on the lawn to watch the affair. I have told her she is ruining my reputation, but she just thinks it's funny. No one believes who the real abuser is. And every single goddamn time she's gone into the hospital, I've had a friend visiting-- this time it was the lovely and talented
mercuriosity, who is as always a delight-- and the neighbors get their, "Oh, the poor dear, she's being cheated on again" look. Anyway.)So, I coped with it by carving a hockey-themed jack-o-lantern (stop judging me, I like projecting my fandoms onto gourds, who doesn't), and also making and eating an entire pan of Rice Krispie treats. And buying way too much beer for the party, to the point where anyone who looked in our fridge would assume we were frat guys since the entire lower shelf is beer, only not, because I am a snob about beer. And because the side door is all filled with wine, which I understand gives you a couple classy points in the alcohol standings. I also sliced up a mattress box for recycling with a box-cutter, which was a lot like trying to field-strip a moose with a pocket knife. If you ever want to work your aggression out, I highly recommend that last activity. The box, I mean. Not the moose. It might be difficult to get a moose on short notice, or at least one of truly excellent quality.
The Halloween party was pretty awesome, and no one ended up in the hospital or in jail as a direct cause of it, as in past years, so I consider it a success. The pumpkin unfortunately got smashed, but that was to be expected.
( Some recent conversations submitted without comment. They're mostly about Catholicism but there's also a fair bit about bears, porn, and Scotsmen. )
My second eldest brother proposed to his girlfriend this past month, so I'm the last single soldier standing in my family. I'm thrilled for him, but also cognizant of the fact that now my mother's full attention is going to fall on me, since she won't rest until I'm married and popping out a kid. Which doesn't truly bother me, as those are things I do want for myself-- marriage and children, I mean-- but I don't particularly look forward to being the only one now at family gatherings getting the, "So... when are you going to settle down?" question, especially given how all my crazy Catholic cousins all married and propagated before the age of twenty four, and of the two who didn't, one is a nun and the other is a freshman in college, so, yep.
In other news, the Dr. Pepper 10 ad campaign can suck my balls. This men vs. women advertising thing is getting real old. Oh! And it is apparently International Sandwich Day. FEEL FREE TO TELL ME ABOUT THE BEST SANDWICH YOU EVER HAD.
