No more entries

There won't be any more entries to this blog. I feel like I'm only dwelling on shit I could easily let go of by holding onto it long enough to tell you about it. Sorry guys.

Friday, April 13th

...and the battle with DirecTV begins. As if it weren't already bad enough that Pizza Hut hates us, DirecTV does now, too. This whole thing started because we got that annual "Free HBO For 3 Days" marketing scam, which made my aunt decide that we "must have HBO right now!!"

My aunt calls the Customer Service line and is speaking to a representative for an hour about different packages, and adding satellite receivers to extra rooms before she's transferred to a different guy for billing information (or something). She must have only been talking to him for 5 minutes before I hear her yelling from the other room, and our satellite picture goes out.

"This channel not ordered" is what the screen says, and we're watching a local channel.

Rut-rohhh.

I walk into the other room to tell my aunt about the television going out, when I hear her screaming at the guy on the phone, "I have been a customer for almost 10 years, and you're gonna just let me take my business elsewhere?? Let me speak to your manager! What's your name?! Ok Dave, pull your fucking pants up and let me speak to your supervisor, little boy!" etc, etc. You get the idea. Basically, my aunt pissed off Dave, and he cancelled our service. Atta boy, Dave! Way to piss off a psycho!

After my aunt made the above comments to Dave, she screamed psychotically into the phone (at the top of her lungs), and Dave told her, "Okay ma'am, I'm going to place you on hold until you calm down," and then put my aunt on hold. She then hung up, called back, and talked to somebody else, to whom she proceeded to tell this entire story, while referring to Dave as "pimple-face".

In the end, our service was restored with 3 free months of HBO, Showtime, and Cinemax.

Thursday, April 5th

The Lapdog has been over for a couple of days now for what my aunt calls "support." Basically, she finally talked to my cousin on Tuesday (I couldn't believe it when she told me that) and she believes her now about Sugar Daddy molesting her. Well, that was the last I heard. She was crying hysterically and called The Lapdog, asking him if he could come over for an all-nighter because she was really upset. The thing about The Lapdog that's really sad is that he has the worst character judgement of anyone I've ever met. His last girlfriend was a drug addict who just disappeared one day with a bunch of his money. When he came over and was talking to my aunt, he kept referring to Sugar Daddy as "The Good Captain" (he's a boat captain...obviously). Why in hell would you refer to him with such compassion, when his own girlfriend is telling you that she believes he molested her daughter?? What a fucking retard. "The Good Captain." Pfft.

My aunt kept going back and forth all night about whether or not she believed my cousin, and at one point even suggested that maybe it wasn't Sugar Daddy who did it - maybe she really was molested but is confused about who did it! Riiiight. You just keep on telling yourself that.

My mom called me yesterday morning while I was getting ready for work and left me a voicemail that began with, "What the fuck is up with the answering machine at the house??"

Orly?

The answering machine at my house has always just had the default recording on it from the factory, but apparently my aunt changed it on Tuesday night. My mom says that the recording goes something along the lines of, "I probably didn't answer the phone because I didn't want to talk to you...and if I do decide you're worth talking to, maybe I'll call you back."

No wai!

Tuesday, April 3rd

It seems like I've been in a constantly crappy mood lately, and it's been preventing me from being able to write. Everything makes sense to me in my head, but then I either don't know how to express things in words, or I say, "Fuck it," and don't even try. I would just say, "Oh well!" and ride it out, but I've been shitty towards the very few friends that I have, and it's really not their fault. Ugghhh why? Why do I have to be in the wrong? I hate that.

When I came home from work last night, my aunt had fallen asleep while talking on the phone and sitting up on the couch. Nice one! The phone was sitting on the floor like she had dropped it when she fell asleep. Okay, okay: passed out! Really she was passed out. So anyways, I stopped for a second to make sure she was like, breathing, and then proceeded to my room to get ready for a shower. When I was finished with my shower, I was getting dressed in the bathroom when I hear a knock on the bathroom door. I open the door to find my aunt (awake!) standing there with a look of horror on her face. I immediately assumed something bad had happened, until she said, "Oh my God. I was running the kitchen thing [I assume she meant the kitchen faucet.] and I forgot you were using the shower and I think I messed up your stuff!" My stuff? Do you mean...hot water?

"No, no, it's fine. I'm done with my shower, I didn't end it early because of not having hot water...or anything."

"Oh thank God! I was so worried. Oh, you can use the internet if you want. I'm done with the phone."

Cool.

So after I'm done with brushing my hair and getting into my pajamas and whatnot, I sit down at the computer with a beer (oh, beer....sweet, sweet bliss), and my aunt says, "Do you have free minutes on your cell phone?"

Oh God. Here we go. I let her use my cell phone to call The Lapdog, where she proceeds to initiate a conversation with him about his girlfriend's body. When I say body, I mean...like...parts that only he sees. He just started seeing this girl, and my disgusting aunt wants to know the color of her...and if she prefers...nevermind. After spending 2 hours trying to ignore her conversation, she finally hangs up and hands me back my phone. I, in turn, headed to the bathroom and started disinfecting it, because it was all slimey and nasty when she gave it back. I felt sick when I looked at it. I don't know when the last time she showered was...but I can smell her stench when she walks past me.

Sunday, April 1st

I decided today that I wanted to finally clean my room. It was getting ridiculously messy, and I finally got sick of it. Anyways, it was kind of overwhelming to look at, but it only ended up taking me an hour to finish - and that included wiping everything down, sorting my laundry, and beer breaks. I really did blow the task out of proportion.

I kept going in and out of my room as I was cleaning it, and when I went out to the backyard to throw away my trash (we keep the trash bins back there), I saw that our bunny was romping around in the grass. He ran up to me and started nuzzling his head against my ankle, and I felt terrible for him because I realized that I never give him any attention. When I came back into the house, my uncle asked me if the bunny was still out there. "I can't go out there while he's out there. He chases me, and he has sharp teeth."

Are you kidding me?? You're scared of the bunny??

"Yeah, he's still out there." I smile.

"Can you throw this away for me then? I can't go out there."

On the outside, I'm smiling. On the inside, I'm rolling my eyes and thinking about how much of a weenie you are.

My aunt slept until around 8pm, and woke up puking like usual. I'm fairly convinced that she wakes up that way because sleeping causes her to have DTs (delirium tremens, or alcohol withdrawals for those who don't know). God forbid she try to sleep for 7 or 8 hours! She tries to blame it on all kinds of ridiculous bullshit. "You lit a cigarette in the house while I was sleeping! You know how that makes me sick!" or even the occasional "The smell of coffee brewing has made me sick ever since I was pregnant."

I know. Deep inside, I'm rolling my eyes, too. If only denial actually were a river in Egypt.