I think Dirk’s mom should get an award this year. She hasn’t even put up 1/4 of the Xmas decorations she has, and she’s already outdone herself. As we were leaving her house last night, she insisted on demonstrating her newest yard decoration – a motion-activated santa windsock with light-up eyes that sings christmas carols.
The eyes were red.
She made the mistake of asking me what I thought of it, and the only reply I could think of was, “That’s not festive.” I dubbed the offending ornament “Satan Claus” as soon as we got to the car. I’m almost stunned that she thought this would be anything but trauma-inducing and horrifying, but we’re talking about the same person who actually owns the “chirping bird” clock.
Satan Claus definitely beats the horrid plastic wreath she hangs on her front door that has a little train going ‘round and ‘round playing xmas music in train whistles.
*************** Clumsy freak that I am, I fell down the concrete steps in front of our apartment building yesterday. It was inevitable, really. The longer we lived in this apartment, the higher my chances were of falling down those stairs. Including yesterday, I’ve fallen down various staircases 11 times in my life.
Let me repeat that for clarity: 11 Times.
We’re not talking about a little mis-step on the staircase, people. We’re talking about full, head-over heels rolling down the stairs only to make a wild grab for the bannister that saves our head from being smashed open on the floor. I have made that last wild grab in such a way that the vulnerable back of my head stopped a mere 2 inches from the tiled ground. Of course, the stairs in front of my apartment only have, like, six steps, but it still did some damage. We aren’t going to discuss the possible long-term effects all those other trips down the staircase have had on my poor brain.
My pantyhose got ripped, I got a bleeding scrape/bruise on my ass, and I got another on my calf. There was also a cut and a bruise on my ankle. Not fun, people. I didn’t go to work because my ankle was hurting in a way that suggested a minor sprain. Luckily it was just the cut and the bruise (which continues to expand).
In other news, something has fried in Krisco’s little head. I got an e-mail from a screen-name on her aol account that said,
“whoa, Dirk sounds pretty stupid.You sound like a bitch.Get a new band name and lyrics they suck.Get a new boyfriend too.bye bye!
-From aloving fan"It was just sad, really. I knew that either she or her brother had written it (her little brat brother styles himself a hacker), and it was plain that they didn’t expect me to recognize the source. So I replied, “I recognize this screen name. Krisco, you need to move on and get over Dirk. And if this is her brother, kid, you and your sister need some help. Are you losers still stuck on this subject after all this time? Enjoy the life of the functionally retarded.”
I thought that perhaps they’d stumbled across my site (which would have been a boon in the days when she was something more than a little loser lost in the background), and I figured I wouldn’t hear from them again. Cowards, both of them.
But there were more surprises in store for me. Krisco called the house two days later, when no-one was home. (We have caller ID) Dirk called his mom and found out that the meddling old BITCH had given my home number to Krisco. Why? Because Krisco got some “threatening e-mail” from a screen-name she didn’t recognize and assumed it was me. Damn, that little moron needs her head checked. I asked if this was before or after either she or her brother had sent me that childish e-mail. After, apparently.
Jesus Fucking Christ. Sometimes I think if I roll my eyes any further into the back of my goddamned head they’ll get stuck there. I don’t think I’ve even mentioned her to anyone in a long, long time. There’s no point to me harassing her. I won a long time ago.
Oh, and get this: Dirk’s mom also wanted to make sure he knew that Krisco was getting married. Who cares? Is he supposed to mourn the fact that he definitely has no chance with her now? Is he supposed to hurry up and marry me to show that our relationship is just as legitimate as hers? He’s told her before that he doesn’t want anymore goddamn updates on her life, and his mother seems to be having a hard time accepting this. But that’s another discussion.
A couple people have asked me if I want anything for Xmas. If you feel moved by pity, awe, affection, whatever, to get me something for the holiday, please consider an amazon.com gift certificate. I am not going to make a wish list because I don't believe in them, and I read so very many books that a gift certificate is much more useful.
