Tuesday, 28 August 2007

More trouble from the house of madness...

Current mood:  intimidated
In the UK, it never stops raining, right?
Wrong.  It's just very rarely that you run across a sunny day.  Today was one of those days!  Hooray!  I was promised a car boot sale, since today is also a Bank Holiday over here.  The last Bank Holiday was in May, and  it rained (Of course), so I didn't get to my favourite Epsom car boot - which only takes place four time a year - so I've been looking forward to it ever since.  It's always packed with ponies at cheap prices!!!
So yesterday Mum said she didn't want to go to a boot sale.   No worries,  I could still go with my horrible father, while she had a turn on the computer looking up family history... 
Following yesterday's argument, Dad wasn't allowed to sleep in the other house, and had to spend the night sleeping in the car in various service station car parks along the motorway. (Well, it's his own fault for not providing a bed for any of us!)  So he comes in at 7am (when the boot sale starts), and went in the bathroom for an hour apparently - I wasn't awake.  At 8am, he woke me up, so I got up to get washed and dressed.
Within minutes of entering the bathroom, I hear a commotion downstairs. It's my Mum screaming at David that he's "trying to leave her at home again" After all, he "didn't even speak to her when he came in".  She says she was awake, he says he didn't know. 
Next thing I know, her voice shouts up the stairs, "You're not f***ing going out, you little cow!"  Oh well, I think, can't be helped.  One day my situation will improve.  I stopped hurrying, and took my time coming downstairs.
Then I turned the TV on to look for a new MLP commercial instead of going to the car boot I'd been promised.  But I found all the kids shows are no longer on at Bank Holiday!
I eat my breakfast slowly, since I have a really DREADFUL cold at the moment, but am then told I "must go to the car boot." Mum "doesn't want to stop me".  So I dash to clean out Splodge, and call David downstairs.  An argument then ensues about how awful I am to be "going out and leaving her behind".  WTH?  Make your mind up, woman!  "Come with us to the boot sale!" I say.  "No", she answers firmly.  "There are more important things to do like clearing out the other house so that she can sell it and use the money for holidays.  Why do I want to bring more junk into the house anyway?". OK, I agree.  Let's go and clear out the other house. Anything fora quiet life.  No, that's not fair.  I've been promised a car boot.  This goes on for several minutes, and I only finally get in the car at about  9.30am!
I'm just moaning at David about how he shouldn't cause trouble by not speaking to my Mum, (he knows how she is when it comes to anyone going out without her, so he should at least offer her the chance) when I see something white glinting in the sun, heading towards the car. (Still parked in the front garden ~ David's only just set the engine running).  No, not a flying saucer, but a flying bowl!
It hits the door (mine) of the hire car with a thud! and smashes on impact, pieces scattering all around the garden. It appears to be coming from next door - the Polish drunkards must be throwing stuff at us, I think. Somewhat scary!  Then suddenly I hear a familiar voice at the front door...our OWN front door...screach "B*$t*rd!" and then the door slams and all is silent.
"Bad tempered b*tch!" My weird father rants, gets out of the car, picks up the pieces of bowl, inspects the damage to the car she's caused, and goes back inside, where the argument continued, all the time it getting later and later.  Basically, I'm "unloyal" to my Mum to go out with Dad, I'm "Playing into his hands, since he doesn't want to take her out" and "I don't care for her at all."  She's obviously "Dying of bowel cancer, but neither of us take any notice." All the time, I'm left standing in the hall with my purse, pedometer and lucky MLP necklace.  David then leaves the lounge, saying he's "Going to work".  Thank you, creep!  Embarrass me again, will you?  So anyhow, I forced him to take me to the car boot.  It was heartbreaking though. We got there at 11.30am, and by the time we'd finished walking around it was all  but packed up.  I found "A Prize-Winning Pony Game" for 20p with the pieces I'm missing from mine included, but apart from that nothing.
However, it was quite clear that there had been about fifteen seperate tables with ponies on (Obvious signs - empty boxes with pony accessories, McDonalds Ponies, and fakies inside etc.) and goodness knows how many others may have been there individually.  And worse still, after all this palava today, I doubt Epsom will be on the menu next Easter.   Nor any other car boots before or after then.
When I returned home, Mum was hardly speaking to me.  She's lumping me in with David, "not wanting her to come".  I didn't not want her to go.  I just wanted to get there early.  She says that "The little cow (me) won again", but I didn't, because I'd already missed the ponies by the time she let me go.   Crazy, crazy situation.
And while we were out, Mum snooped through David's computer "work" bag and found more unsavoury stuff...I won't go into details here, but there were internet print-outs and material in his own writing.   She's apparently scribbled all over everything, so I know we'll both (Yeah, he lumps me in with her too.  I'm not a real person with my own opinions to either of my parents. ) be in trouble when he finds out.
In brighter news, David is now at the office, and he says the parcel I was expecting from Bonnie has arrived.  Thank you, Bonnie!  I shall write to you as soon as I have it safely in my hands!   David is supposedly sleeping out all night (even though tonight's my night to share the bed with my mother again), so it may not be until tomorrow evening.
Ouch!  My lip is so sore with this  cold.  I couldn't help but laugh at the "flying bowl" joke while proof-reading this, and now stretching my lip seems to have made it worse. *Applies more Blistex* 
Anyhow, I'm off, although I will be posting my latest sad song in another blog in just a moment.  Then I'll be off to the communal bed, in the communal bedroom, which is ever so hot, since David won't let me open the windows in case wasps fly in...even at this time of night!
Best wishes,
Your resident "Uncaring little cow",
Desiree Skylark

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