Rant-The Musical

Okay, no show tunes here, but while pondering a title for my current rant of randomness…I just thought of the whatever-artsy-fartsy-theater-term “Rent” is…Thus…Rant-The Musical. Well, it makes sense in my fucked up mind.

My mental state today is like the weather- cool, gray, hazy, damp, drizzly. I’m not quite awake yet. Lucky I woke when I did cos this new flip phone is way more complicated than my old Motorola and I shut the alarm off rather keeping it in repeat mode. So waking at 7 precisely, naturally, was serendipitous. Then again, my kid came to me in the middle of the night saying she had a nightmare and wanted to be with me. For a change up, I slept in her top bunk with her. My sleep is fucked up as is, sleeping in a different bed made it more so.

I didn’t take any sleepers yet I had some of the strangest dreams. Strange because they were based  on reality. My dad yelling at me about a car repair he paid for twenty years ago…An ex copping an attitude when I dared to voice an emotion, reducing me to tears and making it all worse…Just weird shit.

Mom called me around ten last night and said they *may* have a place to stay. My nephew’s gf’s grandma has a two bedroom property she’s willing to let them stay in for free til they get their down payment for the house they intended to buy toward the end of the year . Cramped for five people but a roof overhead. I don’t know if that’s a go, but that was the last word I got. The fund has thus far raised $290, much of it coming from my brother in law’s gamer friends. (And my net friends.) It’s mind boggling how uncharitable the local community seems to be. We’re all broke, I get that. But even offering old furniture sitting in a basement would be a help, jebus.

Here’s the link again, if anyone would be so kind as to keep it floating on the interwebs.


The locals have really put a dent in my “faith in humanity” this week. I called a woman the other day for R about coming to pay for and pick up her tv. She started screaming at me about how long it took to get done (that slow boat from China is real when it comes to flat panel parts) then she informed me she will be to pay for it when it suits her. And hung up on me. The next day a truck was driving by slowly looking for house numbers and some dude came speeding up behind with his window down screaming “Make up your fuckin’ mind, dog, get the fuck out of my fuckin’ way!” I just thought it was so rude. Least when I get my snarky road rage I rarely scream, I mutter to myself.

I just don’t get rudeness. Crudeness, yes. Rudeness, no. Please, thank you, hi, bye, just the basic social courtesies. They are sorely missing here and it’s sad. One day when I was picking Spook up one of the older boys (had to be sixth grade or a mutant from his size) came running out and yelled at me, “Get out of my way, bitch!” Just like…wtf. Who raises these kids who turn into the adults acting this way? Savages.

This coming from a self proclaimed misanthrope whose life philosophy is “fuck you”. I can manage basic courtesy. I can feign civility. Sometimes even mean it sincerely. I was raised by wolves, basically. Rudeness is a choice. And this town is the mecca of choosing to be rude. I’m waiting for my tornado relocation plan to kick in. Maybe it will carry us to another state where people have manners.

I had a moment last night of utter sadness. I was laying in bed with Spook and she sleeps with Feet and he was laying on my back, purring…And for a brief moment I thought, aww, Abby and Arsenic love their mommy…That was when reality smashed into me and I was just crushed under this stifling sadness. They’re never coming back and my brain still can’t grasp it. I can only imagine the grief my sister’s feeling losing eight cats in one night and she’s not even been able to grieve.

R stopped by last night and we had a nice chat. He was carrying on about people who use him for repairs and money and of course, I kind of got my dander up cos I know I used to be that person. When I got defensive, he made it very clear he considers us on even ground.We do things for each other, it’s very fair, very give/take. That was nice, to know none of it’s being lorded over me. (until the next time I burst into tears and make him uncomfortable so he lashes out.)  I’m just relieved he doesn’t view me as one of the users. I like to view it as the barter system of old days, but instead of trading a chicken for fresh milk, I do internet searches for him and he buys me smokes.

This morning before I woke Spook, I just stood at her bedside, staring at her. She looks so peaceful and sweet in her sleep. I just marveled at her long dark lashes, that adorable pouty mouth with the perfectly shaped lips..And it boggles me that I was involved in creating that little life. My forte seems to be fucking up and destroying things. I created something beautiful, with the donor’s minor contribution. It’s these small joys that get lost amidst the depressions, the manic episodes, the crippling anxieties…So easy to see all the suckage yet lose sight of beauty.

Just not seeing a lot of beauty lately. Lots of doubledecker suck bus rides have been given out for free, though.

I wish it would stop drizzling. Moving shit in rain sucks. Though I’m not sure what’s to be hauled furniture wise. The water and soot damage was bad, and everything sitting there the last few days, soaking wet, is causing warping, mold, etc. I’m told the stench bowls you over, I haven’t been back since the day of. I remember how my stuff reeked for months and all I had was soot damage. Can’t imagine what three days of stagnant water mixed with fire and soot smells like.

I also wanted to hit yard sales to see if I could find some deals on furniture and such for mom and them, but rain kind of puts a crimp in that plan, too. My nephew needs everything, his room was destroyed completely. Everything accumulated over 17 years gone in a flash. Poor kid. I felt sorry for him yesterday when I was visiting my sis and a text came in, and her husband said, “It’s just Cory whining about his computer being destroyed.” And here he is with his thousands of dollars worth of monster computer that was saved. I snarked, “Said by the guy whose computer is still working.” He doesn’t like me anyway, whatever. Just…so rude to say to your own kid who has lost everything including his beloved cat.

Okay. End of the performance, please exit to your left and tell all your friends about Rant: The Musical. I suppose I should throw in a song. For your listening pleasure…a singing ranting foul mouthed squirrel.



18 Responses to “Rant-The Musical”

  1. Show tunes before ho tunes.

    I trade like that too, for us broke ass people it can be the most perfect thing. I’m a fan.

  2. I wish I didn’t have to fake pleasantries and civility all fucking day long. My grandmother-in-law was old enough she didn’t have to fake it. I don’t know if there will ever be such a day for me. But why do people have to be shitty with each other? Please be nice to me, even if YOU have to fake it, and I won’t want to scream “what the fuck is wrong with you, asshole?! what did I ever do to you and why can’t you be a little more empathetic, instead of just being pathetic?”

    When my kids’ computer got fucked up, until I could take it to a repair shop, they used mine. Because I love my kids. I’m just saying, I would do almost anything to see them happy, even if it puts me into a crisis. Sorry about my rant, it’s your shitstorm and not mine. I hope it’s over and I hope it’s cleaned up soon for everyone.

    If I WERE emo, I’d send you hugs. ((((morgueticiaatoms and family)))) I love a good musical, but more than that I still want a fucking “happily ever after.” And then of course I remember https://youtu.be/RqUF-78CSLY Aren’t the kids just beautiful? If they’re happy (or sleeping), they’re my happy ending I guess.

    • I read the definition for emo and yet, to this day I still don’t get it. I’m overly emotional ten days a month when my hormones fluctuate, do I get to be an emo?

      Seriously…((( ))) Cyber hugs are cool, emo, no emo, gothnic, beatnik, pegacornish…

      On Fri, Sep 11, 2015 at 11:17 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


      • My daughter does say I’m goth, but I think she just means I’m old enough to remember how they built gothic architecture. When my daughter said “You’re emo,” I said “more like ‘Scream’-o…” which she laughed hysterically at because, she informed me, there is a sub-genre of “emo” music they call “scream-o” I had no idea. What will the kids come up with next? A cure, I hope, that doesn’t kill me. You and me, we can be emo together.

      • Technically, only Korn and 2 other bands from a three block radius can lay claim to ’emo’. The entire craze came from them, everybody else is a 2nd gen emo (sorry if you were getting attached to ’emo’). And I know; everybody drops the 2nd or 3rd gen labels. I say I’m a punk, tho I wasn’t at the Sex Pistols’ debut. I’m a 2nd gen punk, into skate punk. The word evolved, same as emo. So go ahead and claim emo if you like it. Don’t worry about definitions; they’re always 10 years behind the trend.

      • I’m fine with the term earned in high school- metalhead. I like metal music, lots of black, big hair, and silver studs on my leather.
        Though I can just as easily wear white lace or red satin. Labels make me want to rebel.

      • I was a freak. Too smart for the burnouts, too burnt out for the eggheads. I dressed like a goodie-goodie while at school; at night out came the torn clothes, the black make-up, the big hair and jewelry. 🙂 And ya, nothin’ makes me want to rebel like a f***ing label.

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