stacy was here (and probably spinning....)















Stacy Was Here :
Back at the Beginning

Wednesday, January 15, 2003

so, for my future reference, and to serve the purpose of letting off steam, proudly presents, reasons why I hate being in this house:

1) anytime something goes missing, whether it's a towel or a pair of scissors or anything, really, my grandmother immediately goes into what I call "investigating Stacy" mode. phase one is to ask if I've seen it. when I invariably answer "no", I get a severe disapproving look, like how dare I not be forthcoming with my obvious and nefarious crime. phase two is to pretend to look elsewhere for it while she wait for me to vacate my primary dwelling area, at which point she digs through everything I own looking for it. phase three is when I hear her bitching to my mom/sister/uncle about how I lose things and then deny it. phase three involves my temper finally errupting and me yelling at her.

2) it's really, REALLY fucking creepy to wake up to various family members peering out windows at you. this includes both my grandmother and my uncle.

3) and why the hell should I love and respect my grandmother when she's violated my entire family my whole life, and before I was born? I think my anger and resentment toward her is entirely justified. but what am I told? "you really should be nicer to her", "please don't confront her about any of it, it won't do any good". riiiiiight. and why? because this is the woman who would rather go to her grave stubbornly protecting her dead husband than afford any of us closure for something which she could quite easily have stopped from happening in the first place.

4) everything in this house is dirty. I don't mean dusty or cluttered, though those things are also true, I mean dirty. I mean the sink is never actually clean, it always has bits of food in it, and the kitchen floor is sticky, and other various and sundry examples of general nastiness. it's disgusting, and I just don't understand it because my grandmother thinks it's her purpose in life to be forever cleaning, and if thats the case, then why is nothing ever clean?!?!? and then there's the fact that nothing has actually been thrown away since the mid-nineteen seventies, so we have way more crap than anyone has a right to have, and why? because my grandmother feels some strange fucking need to save EVERYTHINg... ugh...

more later

posted by Cat Named Eggroll @ 12:35 PM   0 comments


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