It's Summer

We have the pleasure of living in the midst of suburbia and country life. A couple of miles from our apartment is the closest mall, and a couple of miles the other way is the county fair and greenhouses.

 You know it's summer in these parts when the red signs come out and random people start breaking for no apparent reason. That's until you look at the side of the road and see a beautiful rocking chair or a nice basket. Then you start breaking yourself, inadvertently pissing off the people behind you until they see the rocking chair. Before you know it, a dozen people are glowing over this chair, and then making bids with the owner. The owner themselves, just wants to get rid of it for any cost.

It becomes warfare mid-July, instead of being Saturday 10am to whenever, it's Saturday 6am first come, first serve. People wake up their loved ones before dawn, bruising marriages along with it and then venture out into the unknown. Sometimes getting lost and ending up 30 miles from where you intended of going.

Then you hit the jackpot, the little hoarder on the outskirts of town. The little old lady who never got rid of that antique tea pot collection or the vintage mason jars from the 20's. You recieve all of the little knickknacks and furniture on a dime that you've been hunting for. Making this entire ordeal seem somewhat reasonable.

Until you look at your wallet... and your gas tank.

Wish us luck, along with myself, venturing out into new neighborhoods, and getting that steal. Pray for our marriages, where we bicker over the silliest of things, the 70's Pepsi truck that has enough lead to kill a person or the coffee table with the broken leg.  And thank god when we return, with stories to tell and a little piece of something that almost got lost.

Weird shit

Weird thing have happened yesterday…

1. I cleaned my house. Like… ALL of the laundry is sorted, folded AND put away. *GASP*. I found a few things of Darrell’s baby clothes. Two things I’m keeping though, one onesie that I almost slept with last night. And a Thomas the Tank Engine shirt that belonged to his brother when he was a little. Gotta keep the cute stuff.

Trust me the whole experience made me a bitch. When Aaron came home from school, he let me sit, gave me coffee and let me find my brain again. Trying to clean with a three year old in the house is near to impossible. I’m sitting there, with a mountain of clothes, trying to fold, sort, whatever, and he’s deciding to use it as his own personal climbing adventure. With his shoes on. Gah!

Everything was done yesterday, although my kitchen still looks like I never touched it. But that’s what always happens when I wake up not so-awake and cook a full breakfast.

2. I get a phone call from my grandmother randomly, saying that some lady in Derby has my high school ring. I’m asking myself when did I lose it?

I’ve lost so many things over the past four years, I’ve begun not to take inventory of my personal belongings anymore. Just so that I can tell myself “it’s in a box somewhere”. I’ve moved 8 times in the past four years, not counting the two times that I was homeless. Things have gotten lost, stolen, thrown out, left behind, repoed, taken by the sock fairy who is a kleptomaniac. A lot has been broken up between myself and my ex. When I moved into this apartment though, I went through EVERYTHING. (But I still have things in my storage unit). Threw out a lot, gave away a lot, gave back everything I could find of my ex‘s, planning on burning my wedding pictures this summer (Naw, I’m not gonna do that. Probably put them in a box in a closet, with a note, never to open this again).

So anyhow, back to my class ring. My grandma gave me this number, and I called it. I was all expected it to be some crazy pedophile or something looking for a million dollars. I went there. Behold, it was a firefighter. The irony kills me in this situation. The old man was very nice, asked me a bunch of questions I was afraid to answer (are you married now? Where do you live now? Why did you live here? Etc. etc) Thanked him nicely and left.

My high school ring represents a time where things were innocent. I had the most naïve mind in the world. High School wasn’t so great for me though, especially my senior year, but it was still one of the best experiences I’ve had.

Now this ring is never going leave my finger.

3. I realized my social life is gone.

Like completely GONE. It took a vacation to florida and never came back. Or the kleptomaniac sock fairy took it. I don’t know which.

I went to visit my friend Jake at my old job, and he literally said, I haven’t seen you in months. MONTHS??? Okay.. This is bad.

So in April, I’m going to throw Aaron a half-graduation party. It’s only half because he’s getting his two year degree, still got a year and a half to go. He doesn’t know about it yet, no it’s not going to be a surprise, I just thought about it a few hours ago.

A party will get my social life going again? Right? Probably not. Fixing my work schedule will though. Yes, I’m back to that. Blah. So I’m determined to get it rolling again. Revive what is truly mine. Something that I use to have, on a daily basis, and now is rusting in the garage. (I don’t have a garage though, that’s the sad part).