Friday, 13 November 2009

Friday the 13th...

Current mood:  restless

Not that I'm particularly superstitious these days, and our luck couldn't really get any worse, so what is there to be afraid of?  Anyways, this blog isn't about today's 'unlucky' date...  I'm still way too far behind to be talking about that!  Still, at least I'm FINALLY going to move on to October in this blog... now that we're halfway through November!

September 30th 2009
Another early morning, caused by Mum's loud bragging about her "independence" which allows her to walk up and down the road in Grottsville.  Well, whoop-de-doo!  You're welcome to that!

My allergies were particularly bad, and I spent the whole morning coughing and sneezing, unable to clear my nose and throat.  I just don't know how much longer I can go on existing in this dump.

David walked down to the post office to weigh some parcels for me but the place was shut for building work.

I was feeling so ill, depressed and helpless, especially with Mum moaning and moaning about her wonderful walk up and down the road, that I began crying about my wasted life again.  I just can't stand much more of it.  So David decided to snap at me again that it isn't too late to get an education.  This is how the conversation went.

"Anyone can do anythink if they just go out and do it."
"Do what?""Night classes.""What night classes?"
"I found some..."
He trailed off.
"Yes?"He left the room.

He didn't return.

I have such wonderful conversations with my parents!   Somehow I doubt he really found any night classes in our area at all.  I have been looking for years (admittedly on dial-up, but even so) and can't find anything.

Then he took off to another post office, and Mum started yelling at me that I had "forced him out by moaning" (What?  He had left the room after that fascinating conversation above, and never came back for me to moan at him!) and now he "would bring swine flu back to us".  An argument ensued.  Probably caused by me saying I didn't care if I died of swine flu as there's nothing left to live for anyway.  I may have said something like why had my parents had me if they couldn't provide the basics, like a bed and education, for me, which would have triggered the response I have noted down in my 'blog notes' pad.

"We could provide for you - but you've always been so obsessive, so the money went on Beanie Babies, ponies and anything else you wanted."  Um, excuse me?  I don't think it's for a little kid to decide what the child benefit and any other money the parent allows for said kid gets spent on.  Obviously, a child of six or seven is going to choose a toy over going to the dreaded school that her parents have instilled in her brain is an awful place where she'd be bullied and not learn anything anyway!  (Hence, home education is a better option) >.<

Then she had to have yet another dig at my e-friends... well, specifically the one friend I had written to several weeks previously, who I was very concerned about since they still hadn't signed in and read my message.  "You want to go on pretending that they're normal and write as normal... Well, obviously they're not!"  As it turned out, said friend was perfectly all right but between computer issues and depression had not got online for a few weeks.  We're now back to writing to one another regularly, and yes, I would agree that NONE of my friends are 'normal', because I'm not sure there's such a thing as 'normal'.  We're all different, and that's what makes the world such an interesting place.

I pointed out that I have to have e-friends, because she will never have a decent conversation with me and doesn't even want to know me half the time.  "Well, you wouldn't want to know me if you could have gone away for two years!"  God, she's still on about that, is she?  Well, I didn't have the money to study abroad so I'm still here in England.  And who said I wouldn't have wanted to know her?  It's not like we're living in the 19th century.  There are ways of communicating (ie e-mail, webcam etc.), even if you are on the other side of the world!

Meanwhile, she perused a holiday brochure, intently reading the page on her dream vacation to Alaska... stopping at Vancouver for a few nights on the way.  Don't tell me that wasn't done on purpose.  In anger, I snatched the book and closed it.  If you're going to shout at me, at least dedicate your whole attention to the argument!

"You were going to tear that up, weren't you?" she said, playing the victim.  "Don't you think I've ever wanted to smash your ponies?"  What?  I never tore up her brochure.  I just closed it in frustration.  And why does she want to destroy my ponies, for God's sake?

I pointed out that there's not a whole lot of them left to be smashed after all the Woodberry delays.  All the insect and heat damage has pretty much ruined them.

"I haven't ruined them!  This house has ruined them, and it's not my job to get us out!"  (She was having one of her "I'm not moving to Woodberry" days, by the way).  But whoever said she had ruined them?  Weird...

Well, anyways, the argument ended there when David finally returned from the post office with the shipping prices for the parcels.  And then he went straight back out for a job interview.

The interview was supposed to start at 2pm, but he didn't get back until six.  I still have no idea where he went in the meantime.

He came back looking very dejected, and announced that he's sure he's "too old to get a job, but didn't want to say it to Mum's face before now".  Great.  So where did that leave us financially?

He promised to take me to Woodberry to get me out of this house, and away from the allergy-causing beetles, then he went in the bathroom until it was too late to go.

When he finally came downstairs, he decided to snap at us both again.  "What am I supposed to do?  Neither of you will go out when you should go out!" he said.  "And when should I go out?" Mum questioned.  "When it's available!" David sneered, before returning up to the landing for another snooze.

Nice.  I hate feeling like a prisoner in my own home, not that you can really call a house without a bed 'home'.  That was one of the main reasons I wanted to move to Woodberry.  I just need some independence!  But it never worked out, of course.

Later, David turned the radio on, and a blast of MLP music came out of the speaker.  How awfully embarrassing!  Basically, I had left one of my cassettes in the tape player, and he'd flicked the switch the wrong way.  Oops!

When he went to Tesco (very late at night), I wasn't even offered the chance to accompany him, so I didn't leave the house at all.  What a wonderful life.

October 1st 2009

Mum went for yet another 'walk of independence', and told David to "take me out somewhere" (Well, excuse me, but I'm not a dog!) while she was gone, so we went to Harrow.  I told David to leave her a note to say where we'd gone, but he refused to spare the time to do so, and I had no paper.  So I just had to leave my mobile phone behind, figuring she'd ring on David's phone.

My allergies (which my parents refuse to believe are allergies) were FAR better after just thirty minutes out of this house.  But the trip itself was not very successful at all - no more denim leggings (or 'jeggings', as Hattie so helpfully told me... love that term!) in TK Maxx, and no sign of the new MLP DVD, 'Twinkle Wish Adventure' in HMV.

I noticed that my bed is now reduced to £63.99 at Argos, which is a lot cheaper than the price we paid.  If only I'd known it was going to be reduced further, I wouldn't have had to buy it so early and let it get so filthy in a house where I wasn't going to be allowed to sleep anyway.

On a similar note, Mum received an e-mail saying that there was 20% off all bathroom accessories in the catalogue where she bought all the toilet roll holders etc. several weeks ago, being told that we were moving soon and had to hurry.

Later in the afternoon, I went to Woodberry to use the computer.  I watched a couple more episodes of Sonic the Hedgehog on Youtube.  I'm not recognising too many of the voices, but I must say it's brought back some good childhood memories to watch the series again.  I also downloaded another episode of Voiceprint with Trevor Devall and guests.  I'm so grateful for that podcast - it really helps to get me through the miserable days here in Grottsville.  I also wrote a blog, then, just as I went to submit it, I managed to delete the whole thing!   Fingers crossed that the same thing doesn't happen to this one!

On the way back from Woodberry, the agency rang David and offered him the job (the one he was sure he was "too old" for)... BUT he's being offered only two thirds of the wage he normally receives for his line of work.  The office is only about twenty minutes drive from here though (probably only five minutes from Woodberry), meaning it's in a very convenient location.  So he wasn't sure whether to accept or continue looking for a better job.

Mum's cousin, Ruth, wrote a rather snooty letter to her.  Basically, Mum told her aunt Madeline that due to David being out of work we were going to have to cut back on Christmas gifts this year (We usually exchange quite a few gifts with John and Madeline, and we wanted to cut it down to one present each or something).  So Madeline got in touch with her niece, and passed on the message. o_0  So Ruth writes: "Madeline told me you were no longer doing Christmas.  I'm sure you have better things to spend your money on."  or words to that effect.  But goodness, how rude.  They just don't believe that we have no money. >.<

David went to see a bloke about security at Woodberry, and he has recommended an alarm system that requires large sensors in five rooms...including mine.  So it looks like I will end up with a big ugly white thing on my wall, too.  The system doesn't sound very good anyway.  Basically, if the alarm sounds, the security company will call your mobile phone to find out if you have set them off yourself.  If you don't answer your phone, they'll do nothing at all.  If you answer your phone and are out of the house, they scare you to death by letting you know there are intruders in your house, then slowly call the police who promptly do nothing at all (not that the intruders are still going to be there after all that time).  Sounds really secure, doesn't it?

October 2nd 2009
I opened the curtains and noticed that our gatepost had been totally knocked down and smashed on the ground.  It was obviously our new neighbour, Hussain, since I could see all the brick dust over the front of his van.  Of course, when our old Irish neighbours were still living there, their friend knocked the gatepost down (although he didn't smash it) and offered to re-build it for free.  But David never bothered to ring him back.  Now Hussain has totally smashed it by knocking it over a second time, and he hasn't offered to do anything.

Mum decided to go to Kew Archives at the last moment, leaving me no time to change my clothes, so I was stuck indoors, with my worsening allergies.  So there wasn't even any way that I could make voice recordings while my parents were out of the way.

"You've been out the last two days without me." Mum said.  I pointed out that I hadn't even left the house two days previously.

There was no answer to that, really.  "Oh, well, you can stay here, clear your breathing and use your disk drive."  She said cheerfully on her way out of the door.  How the heck am I supposed to clear my breathing in a house filled with the very carpet beetles that cause my allergies?

Eventually, I calmed down and spent the time that they were out battling with the disk drive and attempting to make MLP music recordings.  But this stupid computer kept overheating and had to be switched off three times.

They didn't have a good time anyway, it appears.  Basically, Rob Jacobs (the path tiler) rang up and it transpired that David had not cancelled his appointment despite telling us that he would do so, hence he was still coming the following day.  Not only that, but he agreed to go and collect his tools that afternoon (poor Rob Jacobs doesn't have a car) and take them to Woodberry that afternoon, rather than taking me out as he had promised.

One problem regarding Jacobs not having been cancelled...  We were supposed to go to Emma's house for Abigale's birthday.  This had been planned weeks in advance.  So why the heck didn't David tell Jacobs that he couldn't come?

David didn't think this was a problem, though.  "Why can't we leave your stuff just while we drive to Emma's house?  Then I'll go back to Woodberry."  WHAT?  Leave my Paradise Estate and irreplaceable MLP plushie collection unsupervised with Sickton's friend.  NO WAY!
Oh, and to add insult to injury, Jacobs announced that he wanted £50 in cash when David went to collect the tools, which he promptly gave to him.

That night, we went to Woodberry where I watched another two AOSTH episodes, downloaded the last Voiceprint episodes and re-wrote the blog I had so cleverly deleted the previous day.

David got another round robin e-mail from one of his internet agencies offering him a job in Vancouver, which he insisted on telling me all about, even though it's not feasable at his age.  Why must my parents taunt me so?

Oh, and there was no more mention of his real job offer...  Perhaps there was no need to worry about whether to take it or not.  It seemed as though the decision had been made for him...

Anyways, that's all for now.  Myspace is co-operating at the moment, so I will try to write another blog tomorrow (and every day until I can finally catch up).  Thanks for reading, everyone!

Best wishes,
Desirée Skylark  xxx

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