Those 1928 Chevy Model A Rims?? They came back!

My brother actually brought them back, isn't that beautiful?!? I have no idea why he did (actually had my cousin Darin do it, but still) or why i think they are so gorgeous (old ugly tires???). Mayhaps because they came to symbolize something greater. I have a cousin named Angel (no lie) who offered to go get them for me from my cousin Darin........to No Avail. My aunt Big Josie called, she said to instigate. She told me she thought what was goin' on was a bunch of bullshit. She's just like her sister, my mom and likes the chisme and to call it like she sees it. So she offered up her son and his truck so that i might get them back. So there i had my peeps out there lookin' for those hubs, but those damn hubs were very elusive. All my efforts ended in silly frustrationz and i was gonna give it up already, felt like i was kickin' a dead horse. When all of a sudden and outta the blue: there they were! Finally some sort of weird justice. Whoo Hoooo!!! Y Con Gusto, I celebrated their return. I believe I was jubilant as i rode my bike down to La Chiquita and bought a six pack of Tecate and a lime (also a gatorade for Happy, a pepsi for my mom and Top Ramen for little Mr. Soup Please!) I was also Definitely Celebrating a conversation i had with my brilliant G. and how he helped me to decide it's time that I Stop demonizing my oldest brother. It doesn't matter who screwed whom...the fact is: We're screwed. I'm sure the bank doesn't give a rat's ass who's the rightful owner of this house! G. is pragmatic and wants me always to face the music....So then - right after this one last prickly little post, I'm going to shed this role i tire of....the youngest/little sister/victim assuming the position...because after much careful, resentful, obsessive consideration: i've resolved that shit. So my brother's a prick. So what? I'm not surpised about that anymore and his being a prick is not going to stop me from livin' my life and going on with my plan of action. I just got a little stumbly when the Foreclosure wasn't so iminent. But now that That is over and the rims are back where they belong, i'm okay with my situation in life. And that might be temporary but isn't everyfuckinthing in this world Temporary? So Fuck It, i say. I'm going to be happy

and Drink Beer!

Like Kool & the Gang, i am going to

CELBRATE GOOD TIMES! come! on!!

Happy Tuesdays: I'll take 'em ANYway i can get 'em!

Lately Happy has been asking me to "Take a picture mom! So you could put it on your blog." So i do. Tonight she invited me to go outside with her to take pix of her jumping rope.

Earlier it was, "Mom, take a picture of me and Pop-pops playing so you could put it on your blog." Last week during some pre-Valentine crafting she wanted me to get an action shot of her cuttin' up....again suggesting I put it on my blog

....I think it's cool that she wants to be so involved in my bloggingz. That's hard to come by. Plus; she is Pretty as a picture, isn't she? I did have to tell her no when she asked me to put up that one picture, the one that she e-mailed me - of her and her dad. I can't put my favourite and the best babydaddy's picture up on my blog! That would really piss him off. Although i kinda want to. If only just to show off (he's hot). Oh well, maybe someday.

The Last of the Dumpter Divingz

This was actually fun! I love balancing. It's even better when you're at least 10 feet off the ground....

When i thought of the energy it took for him to hoist this up - hee heee! did he think it was actually going to Stay? please.
I found that he had gone thru my special wood pile that i told him to keep his mitts off of. I dug around a little and found My babies' crib was under all this pallet mess - i couldn't get it out by myself. My dad had bought that crib for G. and Happy had slept in it, too. Two spindles were broken on it but i was mostly interested in the curved headboard part with the carved flowers. When i told Happy about it she said, "Mom! Get it out!" I told her i couldn't and believe me, I tried. So she called up her boyfriend and we set up two ladders side by side so we could work together to salvage our heirloom. I took a saw to it and we're going to paint it to hang above her door. I love Happy's determination. It makes me smile when i think about it.

Saint Valentine's Day Massacre!!!!

It sucks when Bad History Repeats itself, doesn't it??? And in other fucked up news....i was forced to bring out my poison pen....the one that is mightier than the sword....with which i wrote my older brother a letter. He came over while i was at Daycare and asked my mom for money Again. She told him he was going to have to Deal With Me about that. She also grilled him about putting this house up for sale. Has he done it? We have heard from our family in Guadalupe that "the old homestead is on the market." He lied about that, too? Who knows. I cannot believe that he came here and asked our mother for money in the first place. That just burns my ass. He already got hundreds of thousands of dollars by screwing her out of her inheritance now he wants her to help pay How he did it....So, as you can see - i had plenty of writing material. I started out with: "Ever since this whole foreclosure business has gone down, Nobody has stood up to you and told you that what you are doing is Fucked Up. Well, I am here to tell you that it is." The jist of it being Stay away from my mama and Quit trying to screw her Some More. I've decided to give him the money for the property taxes which are $700 a year divided by 12 that's 58 bucks a month. I then rolled up $116 (for January and February) in small bills wrapped into a fat little tube tied off with a rubberband. Then basically, thru my "and your wife is a crazed and delusional BITCH/lying sack of shit, etc." part of my wonderfully therapeutic letter -told him to take that money and shove it up his ass. That's just the kinda little sister i am when you fuck my mother over. What a nice Valentine's Day we had. Then whaddaya know...the very next morning - and only God knows why - he has my cousin Darin bring me back those rims. Huh. I still haven't figured that one out. With the way that i let loose (i even went so far as to include calling a halt to his truck backing up/stealing and encouraged him to let his wife read my letter) i thought for sure i'd never see those rims again.

I had our hairz cut and now I HATE it.

BEFORE

And sadly AFTER

I absolutely regret it and have shed a sad and silly tear over this. Pop-pops: w/his wild boy hair was getting too tangled, too mistaken for a girl's, too long and beautiful also gross but Sucked on. Which looked just awful, as he would bring it in tightly across his cheeks to his mouth. Then it would dry and get crunchy. Weird. That's not normal, is it?

But that's WHO WE ARE!!

Now my hair is orderly, it's shiney and sleek and straightly cut all Freakin TIDY! I just feel like we look too normal. I don't like that One Bit. Now I know how Samson felt when that soft skinned Delilah bobbed his hair. I preferred (and now yearn for) the wild and whooly....the wanton snarlies, POP-Pops got SHORN. It makes me very sad. I shouldn't have done it. Oh, i'm only so GLAD and grateful that hair grows.

The Busride of DEATH (again)

G. thinks i exaggerate but this Really did happen. There's a big wide turn to get on the 101 from a frontage road just outside of Nipomo. That's where the bus hit the soft shoulder and kinda started to skid then did a little bit of tipping. I am not making this up....My heart skipped a beat. I had Pop-pops right by me and i thought we were going to die. I thought, "this is it, we're Gonna GO on the Bus! the bus! the bus the bus!!" Pop-pops still sings that in the mornings on our way to the bustop and Dew Bug Daycare.....Now, I want you to know that I didn't think that immediately after we skidded. It wasn't 'til we were traveling smoothly down the road that i thought about perishing in a bus accident. We had already done righted ourselves and come out of that sharp turn. Oh - i'm sure all the wheels stayed on the ground it just FELT like we were going to flop onto mine & Poppity's side windows. It was just the tiniest bit of a close call but it got me thinking about dying. Dying in a crash. And how i hoped it won't hurt. I got very morbid and scared and started thinking about all the people that would be bummed about me & Pop-pops dying like that. Did I tell you Jesus was on the bus with us? His look alike anyway....and this construction worker hottie ( an angel! with WINGS,)....he was kinda like my angel of death letting me know it's going to be okay. I felt that from him. A reassurance. That it would be okay if/when we died. Honestly, i wouldn't lie to you about something like this. I think shit like this is very important. On that day, riding the 101 freeway, I felt a sense of peace [about fricken dying!] riding that bus with my littlest munchkin. Especially since Jesus was on board but mostly because of my good looking angel wearing the t-shirt with the skull/sign of the Dead - w/Wings, i tell you.....i know how weird that sounds/i am. Just thought i'd remind ya'll just How Much.

OMG! I'm Too Sexy for My Shirt!

I'm Having one of those Smoldering Saturday Nights wherein i become desperate for some FUN and then easily Amused....also i can't get Pop-pops to Go To Sleep already and i feel kinda like being naughty and

child-free and just maybe wreaking some havoc somewhere....only i'll just stay in. Stare at myself in the mirror, eat a huge bowl of cereal and watch bad Saturday Night Television (especially since we ain't got No Cable). And even with that: i'm pretty pleased.

Nana & Pop-Pops on the Porch w/That Afghan!

She finished it and she had me smell it because she just bought some new Woolite. "Smell it!" she's very commanding. So i did. Ohhh - it smelled like HEAVEN. And it's very soft, too. She says it's for mijo....and she means my G.

Meanwhile Back in Nipomo

DUMPSTER DIVINGZ: A work in progress

This next pic down: here's where i start to add my own distinctive flare and started really driving my brother bananas! hee heee oh yeah...i was stuffing stuffed animals in the doors of the dumpster adding old halloween witch's hats to the tippy top of branches i had leaned onto the dumpster instead of putting them in, i think i started taking stuff OUT at this point, which really pissed him off but i don't even Care - my older brother: not only is he a gaping asshole of gargantuan proportions, he's also a killjoy.

I took this next pic for Happy! She would come walking home from school, and see these horrendous looking signs made and staked (by my brother) right out in front of the big ass woodpile. She found them offensive so would pull them out and chuck them somewhere else in the yard....i think they look good right where they are, don't you?
THE REST OF THIS POST IS NOT FOR PUSSIES!!!

displaced kitteh! Oh how they miss their Monster Van. So i used to do side jobs with this guy named Dumpster Duffy...the first job we ever did together was a cement driveway...we were shoveling sand and i guess i was really gettin' into it because he says to me, "Easy there, Tiger....take it easy. We're getting paid By the Hour." Sound advice....plus he really was very good at dumpster diving, hence his well earned nickname. Ole Dumpster Duff, one of his funny little mottos: We dive at five! No Muff too Tuff!

Pay No Attention To That Man Behind the Curtain

Because he's a lying sack of shit. I ain't tired of sayin' it because it's true. Oh my older brother and i are Sooooo not on the same page. We are not even reading the same fucking book! He's reading "HOW TO SCREW YOUR MOTHER OVER: fOr Dummies" and i'm reading "KING LEAR: The Ghetto Version". It's tragic, really...I'm going thru the same dumpster diving bullshit as he came over yesterday and started throwing away my mom's gardening stuff...her teapots and old lady collectible things for her own damn garden and he's chucking them like they are his. It's beyond ridiculous and i don't mind dumpster diving one bit. He threw out an afghan that she was knitting with the damn needles still in it, that i rescued from the Monster Van....that is so sad. She worked hard on that. So i dug it out, she washed it and i love seeing her sit in her big ole rocking recliner (reminds me of ole Auntie Em floatin by in black and white after Dorothy gets hit in the head by that window pane and starts seein' shit) with that warm afghgan covering her lap and trailing to her feet as she knits away on it. Let him throw it in the dumpster the stupid bitch! FUCK him! He's a raging ASSHOLE and i tried talking to him, saying my piece that i practiced with my heart beating all fast and he continued to lie and cheat and be a fucktard. Then after the day he spends raping the woodpile and loading his truck up with what Does Not belong to him AGAIN - he actually had the brilliant idea to come in here and ask my mom for money! The Foreclosure threat has passed but The next payment on the Loan that they took out to cover their asses - pay off their credit cards buy themselves a house and new truck & car;The Worth they took Out of my mom's Legacy/inheritance. That quarter of a million dollars (and the 3rd loan), well it's $1375 per month and It's due on the fifteenth and Anything we can do to help pay it, please call and let him know! Both my mother and i waited until he left to start laughing at him.

In San Francisco! you make me happy when skies are grey

Operation Go Help Brother Move: A Huge Success

Largely due in part to This woman's Mad Driving Skillz....My mother can drive The Fuck out of a Mini-Van let me tell you. Plus she is an Excellent Tag Team member for watching Pop-pops at the Golden Gate Park while G. and I went to his new pad and unpacked the Way-packed mini-van...I had taken Pop-pops on the Munni for an hour ride around SF and to GGPark while Nana and G. went and did all the banking and cashier check procurring....hundreds of dollars were needed and G. is a hard working (loooong hours) young man with a pretty phat bank account so he Paid his Own way into the new digs. I am so proud i could just puke.

San Francisco and the lovely sights

Talk about Down to the Wire!

What is it with me, my family and the brink of Homelessness?!?!!

So my Big Son the Notorious Just G., he had to move out of his studio by January 31st....only he had Nowhere to Move IN.

"Just a minor detail." says Changa with just the right amount of Sarcasm. But swear to God, Not for lack of trying as my G. was going to see 4 houses a day (at least their rooms for rent anyway)...alotta people be movin about in San Francisco so rooms are readily available but quickly taken! Little teeny tiny rooms for $695 a month. So anywayze G. had to be out of his pad by Thursday so Nana, Pop-pops and yours trully traveled North (in a very cushy, silver but rented Chrysler Mini-Van) to get all the 18yr old university student belongings. These including (but not limited too), trumpet & various musical paraphanelia,( one mini yamaha piano), a full fricken futon, trunk, dresser and 6 filled UP newly bought storage totes (both clear and blue - shooot i even got some bungee cords Just in Case). When i got there we started bagging all his clothes and blankets and pillows in big black garbage bags and chucking them down the stairs - which G. thought was both a pretty good idea of mine (rare) and fun! (i strive for all the time) otherwise Up & down the 21 cement stairs we climbed in the fucken freezing San Francisco driving rain and turn the umbrella inside out windy conditions.

So there we were schlepping all this Stuff In the Dark, moving it into the van and down to the shitty motel room for $108 a night (!)but the location: priceless....right at the bottom of the big ass hill on which my Big Son G. used to reside. Yay! We just did safe little loops instead of driving around in scary conditions all over. Nana and Pop-pops patiently waited but were very worried because even when it's Not raining and Dark and there's Always road construction: People drive fast and CRAZY in San Francisco! I thought Arkansas drivers were bad! So this hotel room was our temporary home until someone called back from craigslist with a place to stay. And people, Check out time was 11am. The one basket where All of our eggs were: A landlord named Fezz (really spelled FAIZ) called at 10! Talk about the skin of our teeth. We were just about to rent another hotel room....We were just kinda flying by the seat of our pants and trusting in Them Housefinding Angelz:

they kicked some ass.

G.'s New Abode