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fabrisseI still, at some point, want to post about the trip. It really was lovely.
But right now, the fact that I'm moving this week takes up a huge amount of my available brain. (Work and its issues seem to be taking up the rest.)
Those of you who've been through a move with me know that I hate it with a passion. I'm also not particularly good at it. Mom always did the work while I was growing up -- she didn't trust me, or anyone, to do it to her standards. Consequently, moving has become traumatic. And this will be my third, not counting the time I spent with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jerminating last summer, in about three years.
I think the last time I posted about this, Sis had put in a bid on a house with a large guest house for me. She didn't get it.
Instead, the day I got off the plane from Boston I was dragged to see another house with a guest house. I was asked my opinion of the one (small) roomed guest house and gave it. It would be too small for me to have both a living/dining area and a bedroom. There was no air-conditioning -- although unlike that one place there were windows that provide cross-ventilation and a ceiling fan.
These issues were all dismissed. I was never asked about the main house.
I have tried to give my opinion. It is, for the record, that the layout is poor, the busy street is dangerous for the dogs (there's no fence and they both try to run out whenever anyone comes in the front door), the backyard would take several thousand dollars worth of landscaping, the kitchen was inadequate, and the stairs to Sis's master suite were too dangerous for Mom and Dad not to mention the dogs. They're steep, slick, and have no protective railing at all; if one of the dogs fell through it could kill him.
Sis loved it. Mom loved it. A bid was put in and accepted.
I thought the madness would stop when the sale of my parents' house fell through. Instead, a bid was put in on my sister's house and she accepted it even though it was well below the asking price. She did it just to keep this "dream house" that I think they're both going to end up loathing.
So now, we're moving. Except I wasn't told that we aren't moving directly to the new property. That's right we're moving in with Mom and Dad. Originally, it was only supposed to be for "two days while the painting is done." The painting and other minor renovations are going to take at least ten days.
Ten days of sharing a bathroom with my sister. Ten days of having to live under my mother's roof. I already want to slit my wrists, but it might jeopardize the sale of the house.
Now I've been told that I have to move in with Mom and Dad tomorrow -- no warning, no time to pack.
Mom and Sis discuss things with each other and think they've told me or Dad when they haven't. They treat us as if we're lunatics when we "act" as if we don't know something that's been decided.
The new kitchen is going to cost a huge amount of money. To be fair, they are asking for my input, but some things which I value are going to be given short shrift. Mom's never understood why I might want to have my cookbooks in the kitchen much less why I might want a different layout for the spices. Mom alphabetizes hers. I've been told the kitchen will take precedence over the planned expansion of the guest house.
I've also been told that on nights when it's too hot, I'll be allowed to sleep in the main house. Mom says the guest room, but since she's complained about my messing up her sheets for real guests, I'm betting I'll get an air mattress in the family room. If they actually let me in.
Thanks for letting me rant. I may be able to get online from my father's computer while I'm at the 'rents, but it won't be often or much time.
Oh, and I'm having chest pains.
Crap.
On the other hand, Mom, Sis, and I saw an old-lady mugged today. We helped her, and Mom and Sis had to give witness statements. I was in the back seat and missed a good part of it -- like a view of the suspect. I did get the grocery store to replace her chicken which had spoiled while we all talked to the police. Who knocks over a little old lady on a fixed income to take her purse?
This happened around noon and all the helping took until nearly 1 pm. The temperature hit 106 today. No sunscreen and no hat for any of us. I think I may have gotten too much sun.
But right now, the fact that I'm moving this week takes up a huge amount of my available brain. (Work and its issues seem to be taking up the rest.)
Those of you who've been through a move with me know that I hate it with a passion. I'm also not particularly good at it. Mom always did the work while I was growing up -- she didn't trust me, or anyone, to do it to her standards. Consequently, moving has become traumatic. And this will be my third, not counting the time I spent with
jerminating last summer, in about three years.I think the last time I posted about this, Sis had put in a bid on a house with a large guest house for me. She didn't get it.
Instead, the day I got off the plane from Boston I was dragged to see another house with a guest house. I was asked my opinion of the one (small) roomed guest house and gave it. It would be too small for me to have both a living/dining area and a bedroom. There was no air-conditioning -- although unlike that one place there were windows that provide cross-ventilation and a ceiling fan.
These issues were all dismissed. I was never asked about the main house.
I have tried to give my opinion. It is, for the record, that the layout is poor, the busy street is dangerous for the dogs (there's no fence and they both try to run out whenever anyone comes in the front door), the backyard would take several thousand dollars worth of landscaping, the kitchen was inadequate, and the stairs to Sis's master suite were too dangerous for Mom and Dad not to mention the dogs. They're steep, slick, and have no protective railing at all; if one of the dogs fell through it could kill him.
Sis loved it. Mom loved it. A bid was put in and accepted.
I thought the madness would stop when the sale of my parents' house fell through. Instead, a bid was put in on my sister's house and she accepted it even though it was well below the asking price. She did it just to keep this "dream house" that I think they're both going to end up loathing.
So now, we're moving. Except I wasn't told that we aren't moving directly to the new property. That's right we're moving in with Mom and Dad. Originally, it was only supposed to be for "two days while the painting is done." The painting and other minor renovations are going to take at least ten days.
Ten days of sharing a bathroom with my sister. Ten days of having to live under my mother's roof. I already want to slit my wrists, but it might jeopardize the sale of the house.
Now I've been told that I have to move in with Mom and Dad tomorrow -- no warning, no time to pack.
Mom and Sis discuss things with each other and think they've told me or Dad when they haven't. They treat us as if we're lunatics when we "act" as if we don't know something that's been decided.
The new kitchen is going to cost a huge amount of money. To be fair, they are asking for my input, but some things which I value are going to be given short shrift. Mom's never understood why I might want to have my cookbooks in the kitchen much less why I might want a different layout for the spices. Mom alphabetizes hers. I've been told the kitchen will take precedence over the planned expansion of the guest house.
I've also been told that on nights when it's too hot, I'll be allowed to sleep in the main house. Mom says the guest room, but since she's complained about my messing up her sheets for real guests, I'm betting I'll get an air mattress in the family room. If they actually let me in.
Thanks for letting me rant. I may be able to get online from my father's computer while I'm at the 'rents, but it won't be often or much time.
Oh, and I'm having chest pains.
Crap.
On the other hand, Mom, Sis, and I saw an old-lady mugged today. We helped her, and Mom and Sis had to give witness statements. I was in the back seat and missed a good part of it -- like a view of the suspect. I did get the grocery store to replace her chicken which had spoiled while we all talked to the police. Who knocks over a little old lady on a fixed income to take her purse?
This happened around noon and all the helping took until nearly 1 pm. The temperature hit 106 today. No sunscreen and no hat for any of us. I think I may have gotten too much sun.
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no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 05:31 am (UTC)Regards the mugging- I think it was very nice of you to get the chicken replaced. I don't think I'd even have thought of something like that, and of course the last thing she'd need it to lose her food on top of her money.
I haven't got around to posting on lj about it, but Patrick is coming next Friday, so on this end at least things are positive at the moment.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 06:56 am (UTC)I like your icon.
That poor woman who was mugged. She spoke almost no English, and we think the mugger broke her nose when he "threw her to the ground" (that's the part Sis saw that got us all involved). The least we could do is get her groceries safe and her chicken replaced. It was amazing the number of people who came to help for a greater or lesser amount of time.
There was one nearly funny moment (not for the woman, obviously, but for an outside observer). When the police asked her to show ID, the indignant Armenian that came out of her mouth made it quite clear that of course she didn't have ID, she'd been mugged and her purse had been stolen. Trust me, no one needed to speak Armenian to get every word of it. The cop had the good grace to look sheepish. *G*
But overall, I was just shocked and sad. There was so little I could do.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 12:29 am (UTC)Then,
As always, I wish you the best.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 06:57 am (UTC)Take care of yourself, no matter how it inconveniences them.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 07:08 am (UTC)Money is my first concern. It may not buy happiness, but, as someone once said, it can rent some interesting substitutes. It can purchase freedom.
So, better job = more money = potential freedom. Better job in another city = definite freedom from maternal interference.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 02:08 pm (UTC)I hope you can find a way to live on your own soon.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 12:56 am (UTC)Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-16 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 12:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 05:21 am (UTC)How do such good people end up with such crap excuses for families????
You know my offer of the sofa stands, anytime you need it and have a chance to take advantage of it.
In the meantime, I'm usually home if you need to vent in the direction of someone who will make remarkably sincere 'poor you' noises. I'll be out tomorrow evening, but I'll be around during the day and the rest of the week.
Love you, Twistie. Want to string Sis and Mom up by their ankles for this, but will restrain myself out of respect for you...but if you change your mind on that, I'll have the duct tape ready.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-17 06:41 am (UTC)I'll try to call you on Tuesday. Tomorrow's already shaping up into a bad day for me (timewise, not in any other way).
Hugs. I miss you, Twistie.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 12:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 12:23 am (UTC)::desk::
Add hot gals with tremendous senses of humor who can somehow manage to melt the therometer without trying. ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-19 06:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-19 07:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-18 08:38 am (UTC)Rant away. I also hope you can find a way to live on your own sometime in the near future.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-19 06:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-25 05:19 am (UTC)Now look back along this long line of your friends who all chorus "Your family is from another planet. It's not your fault." And believe!
(Ever thought of making a mint selling these as soap opera plots?)
Take care of yourself! (You are the only you you've got. Not to mention the only one we've got.)
Ki-lin