I'm currently sitting in the kitchen of my new apartment. It seems that the best solution was to move us about 200 yards into an identical ground floor apartment with no water in the padding and less available parking.
As I type this I hope desperately that the wifi connection which I have been "borrowing" will start to work once more, or I will not be able to post this, or upload the image which I had intended to go with it.
Regarding my mystery email, for those who have not heard the story I will let you know that it was a paternity scare. Not an accusation, more a family member of an ex violating her privacy by going behind her back and asking old boyfriends if they were responsible for her five year old daughter. I'm happy to say that my memory has sharpened to the point of being able to clear me of involvement, but I don't believe I'll ever be able to lose the shadow of a doubt which lingers in the back of my mind. I'm also not going to pursue this matter any further unless the people directly involved ask me to, as opposed to busybodies acting on their behalf.
That bit of vitriol cleared now, I continue to sit in a sweltering hot apartment, my heir apparent watching Little Einsteins on his dvd player, and hopefully glance at the little yellow dot bouncing underneath the wireless network icon in the system tray.
Events like this (the thing with my ex) make you spend time confronting things from the past. In my case, this includes re-reading journals written more than 5 years ago, reading with embarrassment my terrible writing, and cursing loudly that entries like "went over there just to see her dark orbs glow" don't include a date-stamp. Never mind that "dark orbs glow" is a frightening piece of language in any context.
Things like this also make you confront the old ghosts from the past, give you an inability to drink coffee til you've put them in your closet, and other song references... There is obviously something wrong with my brain, firstly I'm not self-censoring this painful stream of thought, and secondly.. well, that's about it. I would always write nonsense like this if I allowed it. Too darn hot. And there's no internet connection.
I would love to post some pictures of the night the washer flooded, but even if my internet connection was solid enough to do that, I can't find the camera I was using. Our old apartment is a shambles, and our new apartment is a much more empty shambles.
Hooray, after several careful adjustments, I'm now connected to pepper! I don't mind the sands of time and all that.
broke into the old apartment..
[edit] thanks mush, i hadn't tested the link after posting.[/edit]
3 comments:
Thank you for the update to the saga, and I'm happy to see the closure of it. (You are happier than I am, I'm sure.) Odd way to get dragged into a nonexistant drama...
And now you understand why I was quoting "Your Ghost" awhile ago... it just works. You were in my dreams; you were running circles around me. You kind of munged the link you were trying for: this is what you were after.
Never got into the dark orbs. I was too entranced by the brownish-green kaleidoscopes... and one pair of eyes that looked like the earth (twice) from space. I was once engaged to someone who had light brown eyes ("brown as shoes" as she and a contact lens ad said) but she always wanted people to tell her they were dark and swarthy, like her father's. They weren't and I wouldn't.
Looking forward to the swamp photos when you get re-sorted.
I'm not sure I'd ever feel comfortable calling anything about a gal "swarthy"
Yeah, it means dark-hued, but to me it always brings to mind having a thick frame and rough skin.
Sorry to hear about the neccesity of moving...especially since, in this weather, the carpet will be thoroughly dry very soon.
Glad you were able to remember back six years ago, and yeah, it's a dangerous thing to get too involved with people who are going behind another person's back. Glad you're escaping that.
I didn't know you kept journals. I have often attempted to do so, but somehow never stick to it for very long. Oh well...
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