Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Good Times, Despite Bad Times

So, yesterday was a trip to the doctor for my brother who's face has swollen up to what could only be likened to a puffer fish. That aside, his body is engulfed in large red puffy rashes, all a result of the chemicals people are having sprayed on their yard to kill the dandilions.


Chemlawn is required to call us if they are spraying within a certain radius of our home, because my father is also allergic to the point that his throat ALSO swells shut. A visit to the ER can be quite a dramatic and expensive way to spend your day.

This spray was out of the required radius, but just happened to be along my brothers way home from school. He was horsing around with some friends in the grass when the chemical first touched his skin.

He's on a couple different pills, and off school for a few days.


So, with that drama out of the way, we finally got the cash to get mom's car fixed and inspected. A new battery, change of tags, and the price of an inspection later...we are told that the back floor of the car has rusted too bad, and will not pass inspection.

With that, her car was hauled off to the junk yard. The car that was supposed to be mine. The car that I learned to drive in.

Is it crazy that I feel sad? I know it's bordering ridiculous, but I almost wish I had gotten a chance to drive her to the junk yard to say my goodbyes. I know...I'm nuts.

Dad's had to have the fuel pump fixed earlier in the week, to add salt to the wounds.

So yesterday, I spent some time away from home, chillin with Wendy and her mom. We spent some time around State College while Wendy attended a 4 hour real estate class, and basically chit chatted and looked at the ducks swimming around the grassy stream behind the hotel that the classes were being held in.

I kind of got ill after eating some McDonalds (I fucking hate fast food), and it wasn't before I was in bed. I was zapped.


So, I wake up this morning and download (go ahead and laugh) some old tracks from the Spice Girls, Chumbawumba, and bands from that era of my life. It's laughable I know, because the Spice Girls wouldn't have been anything had it not been for the amazing songs that had been written for them. They weren't the best singers in the globe, but there's no denying they were one of the cheesiest, most fun trends of the 90's.

Just then dad walks in, having just walked with an aching back and neck from the post office. HIS car died there in the parking space. In short, the starter went, so we had to trek back downtown (a half an hour walk)and I had to push the car while he tried to jump it into gear.

He was cursing and swearing about life, when grandma called and started over dramatizing Tyler's rashes, and creating drama over the possibility that we need to keep pushing for his insurance (which we are already doing), and then grandfather wanted to talk to him...and asked my father if before he had the car inspected if he checked the floor to see if they had rusted.

I mean, who in the fuck does that? Who does a pre-inspection inspection? Especially when my dad is half fucking crippled!

What it all boils down to is that my grandparents have a huge bank account, and my grandma is the only one that has helped us through this hard time bringing in food to assist our situation. My grandfather prefers to spend his money on antique milk bottles, and ice cream to feed has belly. He has screwed us over so much in the past that it isn't even funny.

After getting dad's car started again (thank GOD!) we came home to find my brother had broken the lawn mower and weed wacker.

So, then it was fix that.

Despite all the bullshit, I took him to get icecream and we took a ride.

But he said something that I don't like. He told me that if we don't get this money for his disability, that he's leaving WITH or WITHOUT mom. My fucking mother, who has been working 6 days a week to support this family? The one who has never once put her needs first, and works all day to come home and sleep and do it all again the next day?

He would not be anything without my mother, and his comments deeply offend me.

Regardless, I'm about to shower and head over to Wendy's to chill with her mom, do some drinking, and watch American Idol. I need a break from this stress.

We see the light, it's just a matter of GETTING there. We're holding on to our sinking ship. It's all we have left.

And still, I wear a smile. Life isn't all that bad.