I've been living at my sister's house for about six months now. I never thought it would be that long. I initially thought I'd be here no more than a month or two at the most but I've grown comfortable here. It's nice to come home to somebody (although I'd like that someone to be a handsome monogamous gay guy that yells out my name in the height of passion but that's beside the point). Another nice thing about living here is the company Bandit receives. It's nice for him to have the affection of a family and not solo little me crying in my coffee like I used to at the old house. Yet sometimes the desire to spread out on my own (ideally with that monogamous man) creeps up.
The other day I was trying to set up my printer so that I could print out the receipt for the Dreamgirls tickets I bought off the Internet. I never print. In fact, the printer hasn't been turned on in over six months. So I go to turn it on, no plug. Every slot on my surge protector filled with technology. The only other plug is on the other side of the room. I then placed the printer on the bed so that I could plug it in. Only to discover that the laptop was now too far away so I had to put the laptop up on a chair and then connected all the wires. Wires, wires, wires! And there's me stuck in a web of electric plugs, literally trapped. Getting out of this quagmire, I wound up bumping into Bandit's crate and then a stack of Christmas presents that I've yet to put away because there's no place to put them. "It's too friggin' small in here!" I yelled.
Finally after finagling a delicate situation, the wires stretched to their max one wrong move and the laptop would go tumbling, I was able to reach over, as I sat on the floor with Bandit's crate poking into my back, and hit Print. Yet after six months of inactivity, the ink dried up. Results: I got a smeared confirmation that I was attending the 6:30 showing of Dreamgirls. I couldn't even read it. "Fuckin' A!" With all the rustling and swearing, from downstairs my brother-in-law thought I was having a nervous breakdown. I was running late and now had to send the ticket confirmation to my Hotmail account so that I could go downstairs and print it off my sister's PC but first I had to get out of the mousetrap and take down the cobwebs of electricity.
Needless to say, as you know from reading Sunday's post, I made the movie but not without a lot of frustration before hand.
There was also trying to get some digital pictures sent to the drug store for printing. They never received. I had to submit them twice in between running around to the gym, finagling movie tickets and spider webs. It was just a frustrating day.
Six months! Hard to believe. I wonder where will I be in June or July? Or in a year. Which gets me to thinking, where was I last year at this time?
Actually, here's a snapshot, from exactly one year ago today, of my boring pathetic life. God how times change. Let me set the stage for you: Recall, I was living alone in a big old drafty house that was up for sale. After two months of marriage, X walked out on me (a few months prior to) and went back to Non-X, someone he had been seeing, but stopped, prior to our marriage. I was obsessed with Ryan Seacrest (don't ask) and pretty much just existing. I was depressed, hurt by a lot of things, namely X, but there was also Torch being an unresponsive ass. In essence, I was pretty much at the bottom. Take a peek, actually this was a good day.
After re-reading that, another cup of coffee is in store. Hold on...
It's a new week. It's trash day. It's Tuesday. I feel like staying in bed and just drinking coffee all day. And I haven't even put the trash out.
It's funny how doing the opposite of what you have to do (like going to work) always sounds so appealing. But in reality I'd probably be bored once I got my writing done in the morning. So I'll trudge in.
We had a bit of a snowstorm yesterday (as I mentioned yesterday). We were supposed to get an inch...six, heavy wet inches later! I used the new snow blower for only the second time. I'm getting better at it. But I still get a line of snow in between each pass. Sort of like when I was a kid mowing the lawn: my mother would get pissed at the mohawk-like spikes going down the middle. I guess this whole equipment thing just isn't my bag.
The Bandit's nuzzling his little head into my lap so I can barely type. He's so damn cute. He's shy about asking for love. It must be the straight male in him. He'll jump up on the bed and give me a sheepish look if I don't quickly respond with a pet to his head or a rub to his ears he'll hang his little head down. If that doesn't cause me to feel bad for him he'll slightly bump his head against my arm, not a big old nuzzle like most dogs that try and flip your hand over, that's too assertive for Bandit. He likes the more subtle approach.
What else is going on?
As for the love department, I've been much better off emotionally such I dumped the Hungry Bottom Ass Bitch (formerly known as Torch). And as time goes by, the X thing doesn't hurt as much. So I'm doing well (knock on wood). I'm better off with no one, other than myself (and of course the Bandit). I've had a couple of "hook ups" but nothing substantial. I won't get into the raunchy details.
As for Mr. Yahoo! Personal, that I mentioned in an older post, I haven't called him. Recall on January 17th, he responded to my Icebreaker with his phone number. I felt that was moving too fast. I expected an e-mail address before the phone number. But he is very handsome and I do intend to call. I should just get off my ass and call. Before retirement would be nice! Ugh! I just don't know if I'm ready. No one's ever ready Rick! (Listen to me talking to myself like some psychotic bitch!)
Another open house on Sunday which means more cleaning, more flowers and more vagabond-ness. Oh well. We'll see what happens. This afternoon I'm checking out an old house in the south section and of course tonight I have to watch my gay husband Ryan Seacrest on AI. Maybe he'll say something special to me...something he and I will only know. He'll tug his ear like Carol Burnett used to do which meant she loved her grandmother. Okay, I'm really going psychotic.
Oh, I'm also sort of embarrassed to mention this but my site ranks #1 on certain search engines for John Fugelsang. And there I was submitting a post (Is John Fugelsang Gay?) just asking if he was gay. Now I'm #1. That probably doesn't make him very happy. I'll let you know if I hear from his lawyer.
That's better, freshly brewed Dunkin' Donuts, my favorite.
I guess the point of all this is that, over time, things change. I may not be in the best of situations right now but compared to last year I'm a lot better off. Hopefully in January of 2008, I'll be writing about even more fabulous situations. Maybe that monogamous man will be in my life.
Over and out...