Sell Out

How Did My Life Come To This? I Mean, REALLY.

October 26, 2009

Seriously, y’all. My life has just gone DOWN HILL. I never expected to be THIS person. This crazy, psychotic, obsessive person. But I am. And it’s all my neighbor’s fault.

Some of you may remember way back in May when I bitched about having to repair the drainage pipe that ran under our driveway from our neighbor’s ditch to ours. If you don’t remember, the short story is that our neighbor is a fucking loon and he decided that his ditch wasn’t draining as fast as he’d like, so he called some company out to auger the pipe thingy that ran under our driveway. He did this without our permission. The company put a hole in the pipe and caused it to collapse so the neighbor’s ditch pretty much stopped draining altogether. He asked us to fix it, we told him no. He was the one who had broke it, so if it bothered him he could call that same company and ask them to come and fix it. He called the city instead. (Did I say this was a short story? I lied.) The city said that we had to fix it within two weeks or they would charge us eleventy trillion dollars. We fixed it.The city inspected it and called it good.

The end!

Except it wasn’t the end. Our neighbor’s ditch STILL wasn’t draining properly and I know, who cares. It’s a ditch. It’s sole purpose is to give rain water a place to live, right? Why are we getting all worked up about the rain water in the ditch?

But our neighbor, the bastard, is very concerned about his ditch having water in it when it rains. It drains on it’s own within a day of it raining, so it’s not like he has a fucking pond or anything, he just has a bit of RAIN WATER, OH MY FUCKING GOD.

Where was I? Oh, yes. Rain water. In the ditch.

So, my neighbor goes out and buys some sort of pump thing and hooks it up to his water hose. And then, oh God, every time it rains he proceeds to get in his wheelchair and wheel himself across his yard in the pouring rain to hook this pump up and he lays the hose so that water from his ditch drains riiiiight at the edge of our driveway.

It’s our property 18 inches over from our driveway, so he is clearly on our property. Now, honestly, I have better things to stress over than fucking rain water, but oh my god. He is doing this JUST TO MAKE ME INSANE, I JUST KNOW IT. Anytime it rains I spend the day staring out my window at the fucking hose and muttering insults about old people needing to GET A GOD DAMNED LIFE.

Clearly his evil plan is working.

Now, my question to you, all two one of you who stuck with me and read this fucking novel about RAIN WATER, FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, please answer me this. Would you be the bigger person and just ignore it? Or would you haul your ass over there and stomp all over his fucking rain hose and then shove the fucking thing down his ugly wrinkled old man throat so that he chokes on the dreaded rain water? Or, option C, would you just be all tra la la, just out for a stroll in the rain and I noticed your hose accidentally drifted onto my property, let me gently toss that back into your yard in a friendly manner?

I’m leaning towards option C, but I have a feeling that he’ll come out of the house and start bitching about how that rain water is supposed to drain into my yard anyway, so WHAT IS MY FUCKING PROBLEM and at that point I will lose my ever loving mind and end up killing him anyway, so I should just go ahead with option B, right?

The One Where I Get All Serious And Stuff.

October 2, 2009

I’m sure this will come as a huge shock to all of you out there, but this little blog of mine is sort of, well, not the most important thing in my life at the moment. I have tried, OH MY GOD I HAVE TRIED, to keep up with it, to post daily, to post every couple of days, to post just ONCE A FUCKING WEEK FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, but I just can’t. For some reason, no, for a lot of reasons, it’s just not there anymore.

I’m not quitting blogging. I’ll just say that now and get it out of the way.

BUT!

I stress out about this space and how I should be filling it with all my words. I write little posts in my head and then I think of all the reasons that I shouldn’t post them here. Things have changed between then and now and I don’t know why they changed or even what it was that changed, but lately I’ve been feeling like my life is, well, private. Strange, coming from the girl who blogged somewhat regularly about her vagina, I know.

For some strange reason my kids are getting older. Weird, right? Anyway, I feel guilt that I rarely ever post about Eeyore. Is he going to one day look back at this and wonder where he was? Why didn’t I ever talk about him? Did I even love him? (And, yes, I will let my kids read this one day when they are much older and no I don’t think it will scar them or ruin their lives or make them think I hated them, but thanks for worrying about them for me, you  judgmental concerned asshole citizen of the internet.) Yet, I don’t want to write about him on the internet anymore because he’s nine years old now. There’s too much that I could say at this age that will embarrass him or bother him or just make him uncomfortable. He’s not young enough to make fun of anymore, dammit.

Cindy-Lu is fair game still, considering she’s only four, and fully deserving of being made fun of now and again. (Just today she proudly showed me a gold coin with the “Statue of Livery” on it. See? She’s an easy target.) Still, it seems wrong to write of her so often and Eeyore so little.

Here’s the part you won’t even believe, though. It’s Cleatus. He’s not even pissing me off anymore. I KNOW. We’ve been married for nearly ten years now and it’s like I’ve actually started to like him or something. It’s ridiculous, and yet, I can’t ask him to start pissing me off for blog fodder, because I’m enjoying him too much lately.

I’ve told him that the only solution is for us to have another baby, because can you imagine all the material I’d have to blog about? The sleepless nights, the poopy diapers, the being vomited on all the effing time! It’d be great. Cleatus is still an asshole in that respect though, and he said that under no circumstances will he have his vasectomy reversed so that I can blog more often.

Are any of you still reading this? If so, you are some seriously dedicated Wiping Up Snot fans and I love you.

I just needed to let you all know that I may not be here very often, but I DO still think of you all quite a bit. I am most definitely still reading blogs, but I need to be a better commenter. I am writing a couple times a week at Buns In My Oven. I’m not quitting. I’ll continue to pay the hosting fees for this site. I can’t imagine actually quitting, but I just may not write here that often.

So, there it is. I had to get that out there, so that I could stop feeling so guilty about not posting. Maybe losing the pressure I’ve put on myself to blog more often will help clear things up for me and I’ll feel more comfortable in the space again.