aisalynn: (Default)
( Aug. 8th, 2009 04:32 pm)
So, I got kicked out of the house today.

After a ridiculous fight with my mother over alcohol (my sister was making drinks, offered me one, my mother blew up, despite my age), which led to a bigger argument over all the things I have not argued with my mother about this summer, my mother finally told me to leave my phone, and the aztec (the car they bought me three years ago, which of course, is still under their name because my mother kept putting off signing it over, just so she could hold it over my head) and that she was through with me and I was on my own.

I called my cousin, grabbed my computer and left.

Now, here I am, having just showered with itchy generic soup, brushed my teeth with a baby toothbrush, and, thanks to the fact that I was in my swim suit when the argument took place, in my cousin's clothes. Including--you'll all be dying to know--her underwear. At least it was a pair she had never worn.

Still, you know you day has gone to shit when you are wearing somebody else's blue, frilly underwear. Underwear that has the word's "Bride to Be" written on the butt.

I've been getting calls on my cousin's phone from like, my whole family, and apparently my mom has completely destroyed my room--like torn up my artwork, knocked my book shelves and mirrors, pulled all the clothes from my dressers and ripped the mattress from my bed--and is now planning on burning my belongings in the field. She also wants me to bring the computer back, since she knows its my most important possession, since it has around ten years of my writing and artwork on it.

Like that is going to happen.

God, I need sleep. And this started out as a really good day, too...
aisalynn: (Default)
( Aug. 3rd, 2009 12:37 pm)
What the hell, brain? What the hell? Why are you sticking my ninth grade crush into my dream to have a long painful conversation about dealing with my grandmother's death? And why did this conversation take place in the van owned by my the aunt who has recently disowned my entire family and flat out said that my mother was dead to her?

*grumbles* What a great thing to wake up thinking about.
Tags:
aisalynn: (Default)
( Aug. 1st, 2009 07:56 pm)
Oh, god. I don't why my parents insist on torturing me. My mother keeps coming in and waking me up from the fitful dozing that is the only thing that keeps my mind off of my stomach, and just a few minutes ago my dad, despite knowing that I am seriously nauseous, brought in a plate full of barbecue chicken. Now my whole room smells like it.

Ugh.

*turns green*
aisalynn: (Default)
( Jul. 30th, 2009 07:11 pm)
So, I am starting a single person rebellion against the phrase salt and pepper. From now on, I shall say pepper and salt. Because it annoys the hell out of my mother and it is so funny to see how her eyes narrow and her lips pinch as she hisses, "It's salt and pepper!" every time I say it that way. I told her that such rigidness of mind is a sign of serious aging and she got even more pissy at me. It was hilarious.

Also, sugar and spice is now spice and sugar, and it's gravy and biscuits instead of the other way around--for the same reason. *grins* This is so much fun.



Today I started cleaning out my closet, to help me start packing for when I move out of the house, and man it's scary. I really should have cleaned it out ages ago, but then this experience just reminds me of exactly why I put if off for so long.
Today is my twenty-first birthday and I celebrated by going to this hole-in-the-wall bar with my sister Salena. There was an eighties cover band there called Pozeur, and all the members had hair down to their hips and eyeliner and the main singer had a white poet shirt, black vest and red velvet pants. It was too awesome for words. Those pants totally made my night. The band wasn't half bad either, when they kept away from the ballads.

So, even though I have pretty much avoided dancing my whole life I ended up dancing--alone on the dance floor--with this guy named David while my sister got perved on by this gross old man (Hah!) and then we played ping pong until way after the band quit and the guy still made me slow dance
--to no music. It was embarrassing as hell and I'm sure I was blushing like a tomato (Hello? Shy bookworm here!) But it was fun.

And then we went out to taco bell. Yum. :)

Next weekend we are apparently hitting some clubs with techno music, which as much crowded clubs aren't my thing, techno is much easier to dance to. Which is great for someone with very little rhythm--like me.

Anyway, I want to thank [livejournal.com profile] buffy_the_vamp6 and [livejournal.com profile] angearia for the graphic and drabble! You guys are both so talented and your gifts made me grin like an idiot. Thank you! :)
So, it was like four in the morning and I kept hearing this smacking sound from the living room. I went to investigate and I found my little brother smacking at ants.

Ants with wings.

A swarm of ants with wings.

They are absolutely everywhere--all over the walls and the floor, crawling on the couches and chairs and lamps. It's disgusting.

After freaking out for a bit I got online and confirmed that they weren't termites (yay for that at least) but I'm still grossed out. They have wings, which means they can travel way faster than regular ants and they can spread throughout the house. Ew.

My mom woke up after hearing me and my brother talking about it, freaked out, woke up my dad and now he's pissed because my mom wants him to take care of it right away. Which of course he can't do until he finds the nest, and we don't even have the right chemicals or whatever on hand anyway.

I'm slightly afraid to go back to sleep. I keep thinking about waking up and being covered in ants. *shudders*
So, my mother went psycho for a bit and took all of the family's electronics--cell phones, cameras, ipods, tv remotes, laptops--and hid them, told us we were not allowed to leave the house, play the piano or the guitar, listen to music, watch tv, stay in our own rooms or read, before locking herself away in her room and not coming out for five days. Apparently we weren't spending enough time together as a family and we spent too much time on our separate projects. (My entire family is made up of musicians and artists so we spend a lot of time alone, working on those things.) Though I don't see how keeping herself isolated in her room from was supposed to help this whole family "togetherness" we were supposed to develop, I have a feeling the whole thing was connected to the fight between my mom and my dad, and my mom and her sister, and most likely and late reaction to my grandmother's death, since she did something very similar when my grandpa died two years ago. So I didn't argue with her, even though the idea of her trying to ground me when I am less than a month shy of my twenty first birthday is ridiculous. We all played happy family and tip toed around my mother until she calmed down and gave everything back last night.

I was very happy to stop sneaking onto my sister's computer to check my e-mail and livejournal (which I couldn't do very often) and to get back to writing my Star Trek story. Of course, then I happened to watch and episode of Veronica Mars with my sister and Veronica and Logan wouldn't stop talking in my head.

It's just a short scene and quickly written and I don't plan on going anywhere with this, they just wouldn't stop screaming in my head and I needed to write it out so I could get back to the Star Trek.


Title: How It's Going to Be
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairings: Veronica/Logan, mentions of Logan/Madison
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story. I am not making any money from this.
Timeline: Post season 3, based on the assumption that Logan and Veronica got back together at some point.

“What’s there to explain? I saw you. With her.” She wanted to spit the words at him, or hiss them: something angry and cold and controlled. But they came out choked and tear clogged and far more devastated than she wanted to sound.  )
aisalynn: (Default)
( May. 20th, 2009 08:05 am)
Had a terrible time sleeping last night. I tossed and turned the whole time and had really crazy freaky dreams. By five thirty I was fed up and started to read instead, hoping it would help me. But by the time I started to feel drowsy enough my dad came in and we got into a huge argument because apparently, my sleeping habits really piss him off.

I don't know why he was in such a bad mood. He wasn't the one staring at the ceiling for half a night, praying for sleep.

In any case, it's after eight in the morning and I am too mad and wound up to fall asleep. Crap. Of course, once the adrenalin from the sleep wears off I'm probably gonna want to crash, which would just piss him off more.
Tags:
Painted the front and back deck with my family today, and in typical sibling fashion we got into a paint fight. I am seriously covered in head to toe gray paint. It's in my hair, on my face, all up on down my arms and back, even the soles of my feet are gray. And somehow, it got on my red bra too, though I'm not sure how. But I didn't take it into consideration when my dad told me "wear clothes you don't mind ruining."

But I'm happy to say my sister is worse. I so won that fight.


...Time for a shower.
Tags:
aisalynn: (labyrinth sarah)
( Apr. 20th, 2009 01:13 pm)
So, I've been a little absent over the internet here lately. I've had a whole lot going on in my life--job searching, apartment hunting, my mother hurting her back and wanting to sue her job, my mother also possibly having cancer (the biopsy was negative, thank god. But we still don't know whats wrong), babysitting, and lets just throw in a family feud--of which I am the only line of communication between sides--just for good measure. I was surprised I managed to finish and post my stuff for Seasonal_Spuffy, and I had to lose a whole lot of sleep to do it.

In any case, I had a little time in between classes and I thought I'd post and make an "official" break announcement. (Not that I post a whole lot anyway. I mean, I've had this journal for almost five years and this is only my 200th post.) But the semester is coming to an end and I still have three huge papers, a collection of revised short stories, a big semster project to finish and finals to study for, so I'm not going to be online much. That isn't to say that I'm going to dissapear all together, I'll still probably read a few things and comment every now and then, and if I manage to find time to write anything not for a class, I'll probably go ahead and post it. But I won't be too active on here.

Also, I owe a HUGE apology to Angearia. I am so sorry that I haven't been answering your e-mails, hun, and I know I am seriously failing in my duties as beta. But my life got to the point where I didn't even check my e-mail for about a week (and boy was that scarey when I finally did! *shudders*) Perhaps you will accept my first animated sidebar that I made when my life wasn't a mess as an apology?



*looks very contrite and pathetic*

Ha! It matches my mood pic!

I'm miserable.

This weekend was horrible, what with the funeral plans and the picture sorting and the lack of sleep and my confrontational mother and over-concerned father and the possible rift that might happen between my mom and my aunt because my grandmother had everything put in a trust in my mother's name and cut my aunt completely out--I'm exhausted.

And to top that off, I'm sick. Like, fever, sore throat, chills, stuffy nose, loads of mucus (you really wanted to know that, huh?) and dizzyness anytime I attempt to stand up. But still, I'm back on campus and going to class because I can't miss my British Literature class or my grade will go down a whole letter, and the professor already stated at the beginning of the semster that he didn't care if anyone died in the family. In fact, I believe his exact words were, "A lot of grandmother's die in my class."

Asshole.

And on top of all this, I am experiencing the Period From Hell this week, where not only do I get my usual immobilizing cramps, but an unusual sharp pain that causes me to be unable to stand up straight.

I want to go to sleep, and not wake up until this week is over.

But I can't do that. There's still the viewing and funeral this week, and besides, thanks to my headache and sorethroat, I'm having trouble sleeping anyway. So instead, I'll do what I usually do when I'm sick and can't sleep.

Watch cartoons.

Last time it was Gargoyles and I watched it so much that I practically started hallucinating about it. This time its anime: Rurouni Kenshin. I loved that show when it as on Cartoon Network, and loved the manga even more (though  I can't afford to buy all of it) so I'm rewatching it. I'm definately watching Rurouni Kenshin and not the Samurai X OVAs though, 'cause everytime I watch them I'm always a blubbering mess by the time I get to Reflections, and that's not exactly what I need right now.

So yay Kenshin and his backward way of talking and forced clumsiness!


Oh, and thank you to everyone who commented with their kind words and wishes. It was nice to read them after that horrible Saturday of pretending that nothing was wrong to my siblings. You guys are awesome. :) Thank you so much.
aisalynn: (labyrinth sarah)
( Feb. 28th, 2009 12:08 am)

My grandma died today. She had cancer. Lung cancer that had spread througout her body because they didn't catch it in time and she was already to old and sick to try chemo. She'd been living with us since Christmas, but a few weeks ago she decided she was miserable here and wanted to move to my aunts, so we let her. And she died there. I guess that's alright. It means that I won't have to pass by the living room that we turned into a sickroom and always associate it with the place where she died.

I'm kind of numb at the moment, I know I probably won't be really upset until a few days after the funeral--seems to be pattern. (Is it sad that I can say I have a funeral pattern? It's just that a lot of people have died in my family recently.) In a few days I will probably see something of hers--like the ink-stained bible she gave me a few years ago, or the extremely fat cat she doted on, or her collection of Ma and Pa Kettle movies--and break down. I'm more worried about my mom right now. She took it really hard, and I know that the fact we all knew it was coming doesn't ease the blow at all for her. Despite her apparent acceptance of inevitablity,I  know she always hoped Mammaw would get better, even if it was just a for a little while longer.

And this is just a week before the anniversary of my grandpa's death two years ago so I know she'll be mourning him again, too.

My brother and sister have their school musical and their vocal contests tomorrow, so my parents decided not to tell them about Mammaw yet. Just so they wouldn't be too upset too perform and ruin what they have been looking forward too. I don't agree with this. I know my brother and sister and when they find out this was kept from them they are going to be pissed. Especially Emily. She's going to be out for blood.  She was already confused about why, when she was showing off the dress she picked out to where to the contest tomorrow, our mom was just staring at her with a blank look on her face, slowly shoving soggy steak 'n shake fries in her mouth. And I have a feeling she is going to decide not to go to the state competition tomorrow, which will upset my siblings, because they won't understand why and they'll just see it as Mom letting them down again,  and breaking another promise again.

Though maybe its best. I know my mom and the only way she knows how to deal with grief is by getting angry. Like, Big Time angry, and at everyone. When my grandpa died she almost ruined my sister's wedding because of her big freak out where she practically disowned my sister because she didn't like the invitations.  Nathan and Emily don't need Mom taking it out on them when they are trying to do their best to perform and compete.

I should get to sleep. Tomorrow I have to be both Happy!Support person and Grief!Support person at the same time, and possibly a Peace Maker as well.

It's going to be a very long weekend.
So for the past several years, Thanksgiving has always sucked. I mean like big time.  I've always said that Thanksgiving is the unluckiest holiday of the year and I had many reasons to believe so.

Whole night and day spent in the emergency room.

Big fight between my parents and my older sister, causing her to move out.

Death of my uncle.

Anniversary of my uncle's death.


I haven't had good Thanksgivings, and I've usually posted on here to complain about it. (See tags rant or family). But this year, despite the fact that I have been up since three-thirty this morning and my mom went completely psycho over dinner plates and fine crystal, (and napkins and runners and the real silverware and which side does the wine glass go on?), Thanksgiving this year wasn't that bad. Even my cheesecake, my New York Baked Cheesecake that everybody told me wouldn't come out the first time I ever made it, it turned out great.

I don't know whats gonig on.

My cousin in law has been playing with the lighter we used for the candles. I'm waiting for him to burn down the entire house, just because I'm sure the Powers That Be will want to be sure to continue the tradition.


(Powers That Be. Hahaha. I've watched far too much Buffy and Angel.)
aisalynn: (Brilliant)
( Oct. 21st, 2008 08:59 am)
I'm an aunt! My little nephew was born 3:28 this morning. I still haven't seen him, cause they are still cleaning up the gook and gore from him and the rest of the room.

Apparently, once my sister reached ten centimeters and the doctor came in, she barely even had to push before he came out wailing. Afterwards my sister apparently was like, "already?"

I didn't see any of it, once they started talking about calling in the doctor I hightailed it out of their and curled up in waiting room. I'd already seen enough to convince me that I want to adopt, if I ever want children at all.

The rest of my family is here. Got to go.
aisalynn: (Greg)
( Oct. 21st, 2008 04:19 am)
The clock on this computer says 4:19 am, though really its only about eleven thirty. Which means I've been at the hospital eight and a half hours.

My sister is having her baby.

Or at least she will in like, twenty more hours or so. First time giving birth plus the baby being in the posterior position apparently equals a very long, miserable labor. Not so great for her.

Or the rest of us really, those hospital chairs are very uncomfortable, still probably not as uncomfortable as my sister is at the moment though. She looks absolutely miserable.

Good thing I brought my computer with me. My laptop can get internet here, but unfortunately certain sites (most of my favorite ones) are blocked. Including livejournal actually. I am typing this at the moment at a public computer in the waiting room. I got seriously bored and needed to walk around a bit. Unfortunately there is nothing to do at a hopsital, so I thought I was type this up.

Still rather bored.


On the plus side, I've finally finished ripping all the video clips I need for my Buffy fanvid. I've spent these long hours working on it, while my family has constantly tried to look over my shoulder and watch, which is really annoying.

I so need a better program than Windows Movie maker to edit programs in. I am seriously getting frustrated with all the freezing and audio problems.



I hope Sis has her baby soon, if I miss class tomorrow I fail the class, and so far no one seems inclined to take me back to campus.
aisalynn: (Killing)
( Oct. 14th, 2008 06:59 pm)


I swear, this loan shit is going to drive me insane. I mean it. Any more of this crap and this time next year you'll find me as a long time resident of the loony bin. So my mom totally screwed up the forms for the last loan, because she accidentally reversed two digits in her social security number, giving her the credit report of someone else. A bad credit report apparently, since we were denied. And that loan company just didn't want to deal with straightening it all out. So here we are, doing everything over again. Again again. This is the third fucking time I've applied for a loan in these past two months. Last night I finish up the loan application, go to the webpage to send it and what do I need? An electronic signature. Well, that would be fine if the electronic signature didn't require me to open up a fricking .pdf file.

For some reason, despite the fact that I have downloaded an Adobe Reader program, my computer still tries to open .pdf files with Adobe Acrobat 8, which I don't have and which I don't want to buy. Now, I've worked around this before, if I save and download the file to my computer and open it with my own Reader, it works fine. The only problem was that the loan company's website had their files freaking embedded and I couldn't download it. So I couldn't sign the freaking form.

I was so frustrated.

Then, my parents called me, because they couldn't finish their co-signer application until I had finished my application. My dad seriously rips the phone away from my mother and starts screaming into the phone about how this is all my fault and how I'm not going to get an education and it wasn't his fault and how they weren't going to help me dig my way out of this mess if all I do is lay on my ass and write all day, instead of finishing my loan application like I said I would. Which of course I did except for that damn signature.

And you know, its so funny about how they sit there and yell at me about doing my part, when I had to do all of there forms for the past two applications, and how it took Dad three whole weeks to get me a simple work reference. Three weeks! And they go on about how they can't do everything for me. *rolls eyes*

Anyway, my mom finally got the phone away from my dad and I had to walk her through signing the application for me over the phone. You know, giving her all my information and my screen name and password and the correct spelling for everything and telling her what links to click when all the while I have no idea what exactly she is looking at on the screen... Oh yeah, that was a whole lot of fun, let me tell you.

I just hope this works out. *prays that it does*


On a side note, I have been ripping parts of my friend's Buffy dvds to made fanvideos with. Spike/Buffy moments to be specific. I've never done it this way before, all my Doctor Who videos were made from clips I had downloaded off the internet. This way makes better quality, but takes up a lot more time and space.

But its so much fun to speed up the video with the encrypting program and watch all of the intense Spike and Buffy moments acted out by what sounds like the Chipmunks. :D

OH! On another side note--House was AMAZING last night! I mean, just beautiful. We found out how House and Wilson met! And the funeral scene! And the ending! I'm glad my roommate wasn't here, or she would have thought I was insane with the amount of squeeing/squeeling/jumping up and down/crying that I did.

That was seriously like, the best episode. Ever.
 

So, this morning I slept in till six o'clock in the evening. Six o'clock!! I know I didn't get to sleep until seven in the morning (yes, my sleeping habits are atrocious), but that is still really late for me. But it was one of those times when you wake up naturally and you feel so refreshed, having slept like a baby all the way through. 

And that was strange.

Normally, if I sleep in my mom and dad will try wake me up. They'd come in, deliberately leave the door open so he dogs will get in, scream at me from the kitchen, and keep at it until I have no choice but to get up so that will shut up. 

Didn't happen. 

When I did get up, the family room was empty (which was strange in itself--my dad should have been watching CNN at six, he never misses it) so I started to practice my piano. My dad came in, kissed me on the forehead, handed me a drink. No word about the fact that I had just woken up, (which I obviously had), no surly, "Ah, decided to join the living, have you?" Or "About time you graced us with your presence" Just a kiss and a drink. 

Strange.

By the time I got done running through Fur Elise a few times (it had been so long since I last played it that my finger couldn't quite remember it) my mother came in. "Oh, are you done playing?" she asks. "That's too bad, I wanted to hear it. It sounded good, Sarah."

No complaints about how I could be cleaning instead of plunking on the piano, no mention of all about how I slept the day away. No nagging whatsoever. And then: "Why don't we make some brownies together?"

.....

What?

So, we make the brownies and I ask what size pan she thinks we should use and she says, "Whatever one you think best. You always make the best brownies."

No. I don't. My brownies always turn out like bricks because I leave them in there too long.

There is only one explanation for all of this.

My parents have been turned into POD PEOPLE. Yes, that's right: POD PEOPLE.

It is obvious my parents aren't themselves. I mean, Star Trek was on the TV when I came home and my dad was all like, "look! It's your favorite!" And when I mentioned how it was the episode where Spock and Picard are trying to make peace with the Romulans, he tells me that I just ruined it for him, that he hasn't seen that one yet.

.....Yes. He has.  I iknow he has, he's seen like, every episdoe of star trek there is. He used to watch with Dekker when he was on strike at the factory--they'd sit outside in the car and watch on his little, four inch black and white tv. Whats more, I know I've watched this episode with him. 

He's a POD PERSON. 

I've figured it out: years ago, aliens took residence in our basement. It was dark, moldy and cluttered, and no one went down there. Perfect place for the aliens to set up their pods and wait a few years untilt he time to take over earth. Well, when our basement was flooded we had to move everything and I think the disturbance woke them up prematurely. And of course, they can't survive without a human host, and my parents were down there late at night, rearranging things. 

THEY ARE POD PEOPLE. 

This means that I must not fall asleep. No matter what, I MUST NOT FALL ASLEEP. Or they will take over my body and use it to bring down the earth, where we will all live in a false state of contenment, walking around sedatedly, bland smiles on our faces, no ambition, no passion...

No angsty fanfiction. 

I can't let that happen.

Tags:
aisalynn: (labyrinth sarah)
( Jul. 9th, 2008 07:45 am)
This morning, just a few minutes ago, my dad walks from his room and into the hallway. I hear him gasp, land against the wall and start making these half gasping, half moaning noises as he limps his way to the kitchen. I throw my computer down on my bed and run out into the kitchen.

Now, I know my dad isn't healthy. He worked for years at a factory, destroying his body (broken leg, useless knee, misplaced hips, bad back), smoked so much that his lungs are terrible and he can barely breathe (still hasn't quit, despite what my mom thinks) and he and my mom are always making these little comments about what's going to happen when he's gone, like he won't be here much longer. And ever since my uncle died suddenly from a heart attack a few years ago (he had the same job my dad did), one of my worst fears is that, like my cousins Christina, I might not have a dad to walk me down the aisle when I get married.

So here I am, scared out of my mind in the kitchen, and my dad is sitting in the kitchen chair, moaning about his toe. He tripped over the dog and hurt it, you see. Think's it's broken. And he's moaning about how he wish's he could die.

"I wish I could die," he says. "Leave this world. I'm sick of it and everything in it."

I'm a little pissed off. Here I am, completely freaked out and worried something serious has happened, and he's talking about wanting to die.

He goes into the family room, and I get a baggie with ice. I practically throw it in his lap and then stand behind the couch, trying to calm down. ("God has turned his back on me, I know it," moans my dad.) Out of the corner of my eye I see something brown on the floor. I look over, and there it is: a robin, not even full grown, that the cat dragged in.

It's still breathing.

It's leg keeeps twitching, and it's whole body moves with the breaths, like it's gasping for them, like it took everything it had in it to keep breathing, keep living.

As I stand over it I remember a poem I heard from a movie once:

"I never saw a wild thing feeling sorry for itself
A bird will fall frozen dead from a bough
Without ever having felt sorry from itself."

It seems appropriate.
aisalynn: (glitch)
( Dec. 31st, 2007 06:42 pm)
So, its New Years Eve, and all my plans didn't work out. The big party we were supposed to have at my house got cancelled ( of course ), and the party with my family in Kokomo we are not going to because my dad has a headache. And Christina moved down to Vincinnes ( or however you spell that ) with her husband and her pets and for the first time EVER, I am celebrating ( if you could call it that, baby sitting my sister in her friends more like ) New Years without her. I am sad. No more tradition of attempting to make chinese food for the New Year.  

My mother wants to adopt my cousin Brandy's kid. I don't remember if I ever went into the Saga of Brandy on this journal, but let me just say she's an absolute mess, gives us no end of grief and just got her child taken away from her. I think anyway, I really haven't heard of her since the last time I saw her, which was months ago when she came to visit our grandmother. In any case my parent are arguing about it. Mom wants to adopt (adopt!!!) her son, but dad doesn't want to because A) We really don't need another kid around, I mean, they already have four kids do they really need another? And B) Once Brandy finds out we have her son she'll never stop trying to get him back. And she really can't take care of him. 

I think my mom really just wants a baby around. Christina and my sister really need to have children fast.
aisalynn: (devilish)
( Sep. 4th, 2007 02:11 am)
So, apparently things in my family have gotten really bad while I've been at college these past few weeks. My cousins' mother (we don't really consider her our "aunt") is in jail again--this time for forging checks. Brandy has given away her child to the guy she used babysit for. Just left a note and left the kid there. Now it is in the care of social services--we are not likely to see him again. Meanwhile Brandy and Travis are staying with their friend in Anderson, and their little brother, Devon, the shy little kid with poison ivy who didn't learn how to talk until he was like, seven years old, is no where to be found. 

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Saga of Brandy and Travis, I'm sorry. I can't explain it here. It is a very long, very sad tale. And we all hate Sharen (their mother, and my deceased but beloved uncle's widow) for it. Hate her from the very bottom of our souls. 

Anyway,  thanks to my grandmother's neighbors, who are complete assholes who tortured my uncle Bill, simply because he looked weird (he was nearly beaten to death by several cops for a crime he didn't comit, then sent to jail for said crime.. So his face is permanently screwed up. As is his memory) Bill now can't live at my grandma's. Where he was living so he could take care of her because she is so sick. He is now living under a bridge in Indianapolis. And the guy living next to my grandma still shines the spotlight in her bedroom window so she can't sleep out of pure vindictiveness. Everyone in my family has been daydreaming about what they want to do to this guy. Emily want's to egg his house, Dad wants to set it on fire. Me? I want to calmly walk up to him, smile sweetly and say:

"I realize it must have been scarey living next to someone who is so different from you. And I see that it is not possible for your tiny brain and shriveled soul to come up with one ounce of understanding and compassion. So I hope that after you die, you awake to find yourself living in the most peaceful, beautiful neighborhood you can imagine. A neighborhood without people with screwed up faces, or sad pasts, or regretable mistakes. A neighborhood where you can sleep well at night knowing you are in the safest place there is. And then slowly, your neighbors will turn on you. They will hate and fear you, they will leave no doubt of their disgust and revulsion towards you. And there will be no peace, no matter how you try to convince them of how good and deserving of kindness you are, no matter how you deny the evil deeds they accuse you of, they will never let up. And one day, when your wife and children have left you, and you cannot leave the house without the people around you sneering at you, and spitting on you, you will sit in your perfect house alone and despairing, and you will realize that this is what hell is."
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