Saturday, 15 August 2009

Can't something go right just for once?

Current mood:  disappointed

I was supposed to be sleeping at Woodberry as of tonight.  Some chance.  Having finally been taken over there yesterday for long enough to get into my room, I discovered that my carpet had not been laid properly and the hardboard beneath is kind of bubbled up in three places, so that it springs up and down when you walk on it.

So now Allied Carpets have to come back on Monday afternoon to fix it, THEN we have to assemble my bed, THEN I can sleep there.

Good, 'cause my ponies are getting terribly hot in the back room, and I'm worried how it may be effecting the plastic.

Not sure what to say about today.  I'm terribly depressed and keep having awful anxiety attacks, which my parents just can't understand and so Mum just tells me to "learn to control it before the swine flu arrives" and David just turns the TV on and tells me to "shut up about how I can't breathe". Nice, eh?

I didn't leave the house again today.  What a wonderful summer!  David spent the day at Woodberry "overseeing the builders"... although he has absolutely no idea what work they've done today, and seems to have spent his entire time in his bedroom in the loft playing on the internet...thanks to me sorting out the broadband connection last night.

Meanwhile, I'm stuck HERE in Grottsville working with dial-up, attempting to update my sales albums and delete the things I've sold over the past few days.

It took me SEVEN HOURS to update three albums (on the Arena, Photobucket and Facebook).  I still can't update my Myspace Sales Album so just count that as totally void and out of date for the timebeing.

Mum sorted out a drawer of stuff under the ex-communal bed, and found a load of her old teddy bears...about two thirds of them had been eaten beyond repair and had to be thrown out, which really upset her...I was downstairs trying to sort out the before-mentioned galleries, so I didn't see them, but they must have been bad.  I've never known Mum to throw out a stuffed toy of any kind before.

I attempted to wax my legs again yesterday (not sure why I bother when I have nothing but these horrible leggings to wear anyway), all the time being shouted at for being in the bathroom too long.  But she laughs if I want to have a bath even once a week (!) so she can't expect me to shave either.  It's just really getting me down now - I've got so many of my own problems to figrue out without my parents being so silly all the time.  Still, I can see I am improving - I'm going to get myself a couple of nice dresses and some skirts after we move even if it isn't summertime anymore.  I just want to be myself at last, and set my feminine side free.

'Intelligence' was great last night - as always.  I'm so sad there are only two episodes left in the series.  I can truthfully say it's the best crime drama series I've ever watched, and such a tragedy they stopped after just two seasons.  I know I've said that (many times) before, but I can't help but say it again.  I just don't know why all the best shows get cancelled before they reach their full potential.  Oh, well.

Ugh, one last little horror for the day.  David went to get us some chips at the chip shop down the street.  As he opened the door, I walked out into the hall, and a man came walking up the front path.  None other than David's brother, Mark.  He looked straight up the messy hall and must have seen me standing there, in my rags and with my scruffy hair.  It was horrendous.  Especially when all his kids (my cousins, although it seems weird to think of them as such) were sitting in his posh car, well dressed and quite obviously in need of absolutely nothing.

I'm not sure if I've ever told the tale of David's family, and specifically his mother (my Irish bloodline, that is) and her unfairness?  Perhaps now is the best time to tell it, since I have nothing else to say in this blog.

David has a younger brother called Mark.  He's about fifteen years younger than David, but I'm not sure of his exact age.  Soon after Mark was born, David's father (my grandad) got cancer - he passed away when Mark was four, leaving all of his money to his wife (my Irish grandmother, David's mother).  While Mark doesn't even remember him, David recalls his father asking him to look after his family.

David was in university, studying for a top civil engineering job (I don't even know specific details about that - that's how secretive David is when it comes to his past).  But after his dad died, he dropped out of uni, and got a job as an estimator (a lower CE job, which he was qualified to do at the point he dropped out) to support his mother and Mark.  He paid ALL their bills for OVER TWENTY YEARS, while his mum sat on all his dad's money, and even did a fiddle to help Mark get to college for free by temporarily putting some of his mum's inheritance in his own name.  (Rather hilarious, when he won't even help me get to college!)

Then he met Mum and moved just around the corner (he didn't want to lose touch with his beloved family) to this dump with her in about 1988.  Even then, Mark shared the joint credit card (instead of my mum, David's own WIFE) for several years, and he continued to pay to rent a VCR for them, even though he and Mum didn't have one.

For reasons best known to herself, David's mum didn't like my mum...perhaps due to the fact she took David away from his bill-paying job at their place?!  Anyways, after my parents moved in here, Mark and his mother moved away as fast as they could, and never wanted anything to do with us.  Mark, being a particularly nasty little creep, seems to have then worked on their mother to make her hate David even more.

In 1993 (when we were actually visiting quite often), their mother wrote a will leaving David the very LEAST she could without him being able to contest it after her death (about £16,000, I think), while Mark was left the house, all its contents, and the rest of the money - well into three figure thousands, I believe).  She even put in a clause that if David died before her, I was to get nothing.

I never saw her after 1993, or maybe early 1994.  I remember the day clearly - I was pulling a little pull-along dog toy, which proves how small I was.  We got to the doorstep and she slammed the front door in our faces.  I have no idea why.

Anyways, come 1999 when she passed away, Mark got everything, including the house and all the money that wouldn't have been there had David not paid the bills for all those years.  Mark married an Irish woman named Mary and has about three kids.  They live in Nottinghamshire now, but every time they come down here they take the opportunity to come around her and brag about how well-off they are thanks to David helping his mother instead of doing something with his own life.

And then David gets jealous...not of all the money that was rightfully HIS (or ours, not that we'd have ever seen any of it anyway), but of the fact that Mark has two SONS, while David only has me, a useless daughter.

Quite frankly, life just makes me sick.

Well, that's my rant for the day.  I ought to get to floor-bed, I guess, since I'll not be able to sleep in a proper bed for at least another two days now.

Best wishes,
Desirée Skylark  xxx

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