Moving Out?

I haven't had time to explain my moving out situation, but I will. Either way, I asked sent my dad an e-mail regarding moving in with him. My two questions were...

What would the rules be at your house?
Is there a closet in that room that I could hang up my clothes?

This is his response...

• No kite flying indoors.
• No guests above the first floor except for a bathroom break.
• Must take all medicines prescribed
• no smoking except on third floor
• 2nd floor tv on mute or headphones (provided)
• reasonable, sane conduct
• learn and use burgler alarm
• clean room and bathroom.
• Yes there is a closet
• Don't move stuff that is not yours
• Don't eat other peoples food without permission
• No off street parking provided but may be periodically available.
• Be nice to the animals.
• You get no pets. Too many now.
• No guns other than those provided, same for ammo.
• You may be terminated at any time with notice

...If I had more time I could think up more


My dad is a very special fellow. That is copied directly from the e-mail, I got it on my blackberry and came online to put it here, because I think he's funny.

Cigarette

Fort Minor

"Cigarette"

Man I love this rap game

Mainly cause its cool

To add a little spice to the life you've been through

Everyone exaggerates a tiny little bit

To make that shit sound more gangster than it really is

You can't appear weak man

We wanna hear street

Wanna hear you spit your thug over this here beat

Dont take it as sarcastic

I can't get enough

Im telling you

You can call my bluff

If it's not rough, then I really don't need it

I'm not even ashamed

I got too much reality thats filling up my brain

so sell me on that chronic, I'm addicted to the game

Suck it up like a cigarette, light it up

Its just like a cigarette, its something that I do<br/>

Once in awhile but between me and you

Its just like a cigarette Nobody's really fooled

I dont want the truth, I wanna feel fucking cool

Let me tell you something that I realized tonight

My hip hop radio is like marlboro lights

They're both selling stories and they sound about the same

Cigarettes say their safe, wrappers claim they really bang

We dont care if it's true when we lay the money down<br/>

We don't believe the words, we just love the way they sound

They're acting like we're idiots, They're lying to our face

Maybe we are idiots, we buy it anyway

I'm runnin out to get the next rapper's CD

Just suckin up the guns, drugs, and misogyny

The same way that I suck up all the stories

When I breathe that little bit of death supposedly cancer-free and

Everything they say's got the truth twisted up

But twisted up's what I want man, I can't get enough

Cuz even though we know it's all just a big bluff

We just light another up, what

We don't give a fuck

Its just like a cigarette, its something that I do

Once in awhile but between me and you

Its just like a cigarette Nobody's really fooled

I dont want the truth, I wanna feel fucking cool

Listen to the words, Listen for awhile

Lip Service radio, dont touch the dial

If you're in the car

Turn up the track man

Give the whole neighborhood some second hand rap

Matter of fact

Listen to the words, Listen for awhile

Lip Service radio, dont touch the dial

If you're in the car

Turn up the track man

Give the whole neighborhood some second hand rap

Its just like a cigarette, its something that I do

Once in awhile but between me and you

Its just like a cigarette Nobody's really fooled

I dont want the truth, I wanna feel fucking cool

So since I came down with pneumonia, I haven't really smoked. I think I've averaged one cig a day, and one day I think I had one and half, because I couldn't make it all the way through the second one.
I'm so f'ing sick of being f'ing sick that I might just go crazy. I don't understand why I'm the most unhealthy person ever.

FACT!

Never tell anyone that you're writing a book, going on a diet, exercising, taking a course, or quitting smoking. They'll encourage you to death. - Lynn Johnston

Bill (Part 3)

Disclaimer...If as you read this, you ask yourself, "how much more stupid can she get?" Just keep reading. Same goes for when you begin to wonder "How much more of this is she going to take?" The pain ends eventually, but it goes through a few ups and downs. There are probably a few holes in my stories from things I can't remember, but I'll do my best to get across each fun filled little event.

I remember taking Bill to a lot of halfway houses. He always had to go back and get his stuff. Not only were they in really bad parts of Philadelphia, I would sit in the car by myself, which I guess was safer than going inside with all the junkies. I got in trouble on plenty of nights for letting him stay at my house. My mom didn't trust him, understandably, you can't trust junkies. Since I was blind to the fact that he could be a bad person, I never understood why it bothered my mom so much.

I remember going to pick him up at his house on many occasions too. I would sit in the living room with his mom. One time she had a container full of baby ducks she was raising, another time there was a baby squirrel up her sleeve, literally. She'd stand there and tell me that she didn't understand why I would keep coming back. She did the same thing, but Bill was her baby, she had a good reason, I should have walked away. I remember her telling me that he hit her once, smacked her around. I didn't believe it, but I'm not surprised, it could have gone either way because they were both liars.

One day a few of my friends and I went to Bill's house, his friend M was there. He was in a really good mood, we were all hanging out, and having a good time. It didn't take long for him to not be in as good of a mood. He got up at one point and disappeared for a while. Then when I was going to get up to check on him, M stopped me, he knew that Bill had a drug problem because they did drugs together. When they both came back, it was a different situation. He stripped down and it turned into almost an orgy without the sex I guess, I mean, it was just nakedness and kissing everywhere. It bothered me in a way, even though sex eventually didn't mean anything between the two of us, I didn't think it was something he'd up and do with anyone around.

Bill in I always stayed in touch. I went away to college and he was always getting clean and all that good stuff. Even when I was at school he would call me every now and then, it was always nice to hear that he was still alive. The last I heard, he had died once and was resuscitated, and he ODed about 8 times. At least he tries hard...

At one point when I was in college, in another state might I add, he called my from Philly because he was getting out of a mental hospital. He told me how his mom wouldn't let him come home, and he had no where to go. I drove in the middle of the night from college, to the hospital to pick him up the day he got discharged. I drove him all the way back to my dorm. He stayed with me for about a week or more. He started some fights, and freaked out one of the girls down the hall. I finally got a notice saying that the school had reason to believe that someone else was living in my dorm room, and they were going to come check.

Before I finally took Bill home from college, he of course hooked up with some girls there. He would talk about how much he loved college. He took money from me, among other things, like he's great at ruining friendships, and stealing my clothes and cd's. The day that I got the note, my roommate called me. She didn't mind that he was there. I think I was finally starting to come to the end of my ability to deal with Bill. He would call me every day and tell me that he needed food, or cigarettes, he couldn't seem to make himself anything to eat, he of course didn't have any money. I felt like I was blessed when I finally got that note from the school, I wanted him gone.

Another long night of driving, I was free of Bill. I can guarantee that there is more shit that he put me through, but I either don't want to go through it in my head, or I don't want to see it in writing. Knowing that it's all true, and it I put up with it, makes it hard. Since he left my college, I think I've talked to him a few times. His story last was that he was going to college. Then another time he was joining the air force. I've had phone calls from him mom, because he still lies to her by saying that he's going out with me, she still trusts me. I respect her enough to tell her the truth, I haven't seen him, and I didn't know he was using me as an excuse. I remember the last time that I saw Bill, I was driving down a street near is house.

He was sitting on the side of the road, with a trash bag, and no shoes. I felt myself hit the break on the car. I thought to myself, I'm driving in a brand new car, doing really well, and he's going to see that and think that I have money, and that he can take advantage of me again. I let go of the break and kept driving. I checked my rear view mirror as I threw my cigarette out the window. My rear window, where he should be, behind me. I hope I can keep him there. I still love him, and that part of me that he will always have is the part that wanted to hit the breaks. The part that wanted to pull the car over and give him a hug, tell him everything would be okay. The piece of me that knows, deep down inside, that former honors student, athlete, loving, caring person is in that mess of drugs somewhere.

I know he's been terrible to me, and for me. He isn't always bad. He always supported me. When I was in a relationship at college he was happy for me, he thought we were good together. After I told him about Bobby he was really glad that I found someone that treats me so well and I want to spend the rest of my life with. All I can do is pray for him, maybe one day, years from now, he'll come to a high school reunion or something, clean with a job, or just clean would be great. I've been to more NA meetings and sober parties than I can remember, but I guess it was worth it, as much as it hurt, and can still hurt. I'm a stronger person, I know that because I could drive away from the boy who stole my heart in 7th grade, and hasn't given it all back.