Sunday, October 18, 2009

Week In Review

Domestic Violence YAY!

The night before last night at about 2:45 a.m. I was jarred awake by crashing sounds against my door, accompanied with horrid shrieking. I heard, in jumbled, terror streaked moments of awakening, “Get off of me!” “Help me!” and “Call the Police!” Accompanying dialogue included “STOP STOP” and “Calm down.” They bashed around the hallway, knocking into doors, screaming, and eventually ending with one reduced to tears…not just tears, but hysterical sobbing. They eventually piled back into the apartment they tumbled out of, which just so LUCKILY happened to be right next to mine. While muffled, I was entertained for the next two hours by: More screaming, kicking the walls, wailing, hysterical sobbing, a visit from the cops, more sobbing, shrieking, and a variety of fuck yous. PS. I now HATE my neighbors.

So, I was terrified, envisioning gunfire and, eventually, real fire. Because that’s where my mind goes whenever I worry: Fire, fire, FIRE! Because whatever rage-hell was happening next door would certainly end in violence and fire, or so said my racing, sleep stupid mind. Needless to say, my apartment still stands, but panic only ever leads me to believe that it will all end in flame.

Speaking of hellfire, a smell issued forth from my front door whilst all of this drama unfolded: Sulfur. Isn’t that supposed to be the smell of Hell? I was completely and utterly out of my mind.

I eventually went back to fitful sleep, awakened every half hour or so by another tirade of screaming, kicking the walls, and hysterical sobbing. Fun! May I just say to you, fine neighbors: Fuck you, also. Suck it, suck it whole.

I visited my neighbor cop last evening to get the scoop—and to get some much needed perspective—and he made it all better for me, first with his reasoning, second with his growly, sexy nonchalance, but I digress. It was brothers fighting—like they do!—in a highly inappropriate but completely non-threatening hatefest of brotherly love. I know these people, and felt completely betrayed by the fact that the little Columbine-looking motherfucker I’d so recently considered “improved” (from his previously sullen, monosyllabic teenhood) was the main perpetrator of last night’s idiocy. I expected rivers of maroon blood to greet me on my way out to work this morning, but all I tread upon was bits of broken glass and nothing more. Still.

I am glad aforementioned Hot Cop was able to alleviate my total terror and rage against those that would threaten my sense of safety and well being in what was otherwise no more than an old folks home (Okay, the dead body stench was bad, I’ll grant it), but I still want to kick the living shit out of the lot of them for having the nerve to spread their shitballs family drama under my door and into my safe haven, my apartment, my home. I’m sure a little compassion is required here, but anyone who knows me (and I mean KNOWS me, knows me) will understand my point of view: Hate. No second chances for strangers with issues. Yet we’ll go on co-existing, I guess, with no repercussions, no recourse, and no knowing whether or not it will happen again. Eff you, neighbors.

Pam and Jim

I’ve watched the end of The Office wedding episode MANY times since it aired last week. If you haven’t seen the lovely wedding video that inspired it, enjoy it now:

Didn’t enjoy it? So sad for you, deadsoul poopface. Here’s the Jim and Pam version:

I think you have to be a mad, mad fan of the show to really enjoy this as much as you should. The bit at the end? When Jim looks up at the camera? Ugh. I could keel over with joy. And for a fictional couple, that’s saying a lot. Even if I know they don’t exist, it’s still nice to know that I have the capacity to feel joy for true love. And believe in it still, somehow.


I can’t post anything without including something reeeDICulously cute. Enjoy, via Zooborns

Llllllllllllllllllllllame. Blogger would not upload the images. Just click the link for cuteness.


God, how do I describe WERK right now? How can I possibly make you understand the depths of poo that can adequately describe the past few weeks…? Maybe this??

Jesus, Prayers, and all That Jazzzzz

For whom do I pray? Raised in a Quaker church, I still came out exceptionally evil, full of bile, dismissal of heretics, alcoholics, and psychopaths…and yet, I still pray. So who do I pray for?

My Mother, first of all, to Live. Live, live, live, mother. Because I’ve never known anyone so unabashedly full of love. So completely willing to love, even without the possibility of having that love returned. You are worth more than you will ever know.

My Ex, that Soul Killer. Because when he’s not soulkilling he’s one of the funniest, sexiest, best people I know. I pray that he finds that fine woman that can heal his jaded heart and harness the destructive power of personality that ruins his friendships to make him the man that I know he has the potential to be.

My friends. First, for my best friend for life, forever, because she’s lived a life of too much patience, too much, really, for anyone to ever, in real life, to believe. Instead of toiling hard for nickels, she should be completely enveloped in love, safety, and peace. Even though everything seems so grim and hopeless now, I’m not giving up on that hope. AND, for my main mamasita Librarian genius, who never fails to BLOW my FUCKING mind with her brilliance, drive, and passion to seek and find that one true happiness, both professionally and personally. She already found her Sexy Second, that nice husband of hers, but the professional hopes are just around the corner. BIG congratulations for getting that awesome scholarship…and never forget that you are worthy of it.

Songs in My Mind This Week


Blogger ymathew said...

Thank you honey. Reading that was the perfect antidote to Rockville.


9:49 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh Lovey. Can't believe you made your old mama cry. I wasn't expecting that. Sneak attack. You are also worthy my love and don't you ever forget it!

6:44 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home