Thursday, May 6, 2010

Suicidal Cars and My Quest for Silence

The view from up here is stunning. Where is up here, you ask? I'm perched on my cross of martyrdom, removed from my body and watching the chaos that is my life unfold below me. The pity party is in full swing.

Somebody pass the vodka.

Whore Mouth landed a job as a caretaker for those who need their colostomy bags changed and suffer from violent mood swings, angered that they can no longer recognize the faces in front of them. Unfortunately, her car committed suicide before she could begin her first actual day of employment.

Pops loaned her his car and sure enough, she inspired suicide in yet another vehicle. She hasn't actually made it to work and has once again proved that "Irish Luck" has nothing to do with four leaf clovers and more to do with potato famines and hereditary substance abuse.

Didn't I ask somebody to pass the vodka?

She won $100 on a slot machine and sent half of it to my brother. It never got there.

But maybe her luck would change because she's been trying like hell to win one of those online sweepstakes or blog giveaways and maybe a win would be like a catalyst into the world of Lucky Bastards (yeah, I'm talking to you Johnny Boy). And when she got that email with the subject line that read, "Congratulations! You Won!!" she certainly thought that she was moving out of the shadows and into the sunshine. That is until she discovered that what she actually won was some air freshener. For her car. That she no longer has.

Even from up here on my cross, I can hear her crack and splinter.

Where the fuck is that vodka??

Ahhh, Whore Mouth. This bad luck comes at a time when she is supposed to be moving out of my house and into her own place so that she can get her granddaughter out of foster care.

And Legal has also moved back home and is sleeping on my couch. This translates into a number of things:

  • My phone will never, never, never stop ringing.
  • My grocery bill will skyrocket yet she will complain that there is nothing to eat.
  • I will gather tumbleweeds of red hair that roll around the house because she sheds like a Siberian Husky in the summer.
  • I will discover a trail of discarded clothing, hair ties and hoop earrings that will lead from the garage, through the house and to the outside porch.
  • My computer will be loaded with songs from a bunch of artists with the first name Lil'.
  • I will not find my makeup because it will have moved into her purse.
  • I will never be alone.
Seriously, what does a woman on a cross teetering on the cusp of sanity have to do to get some vodka around this place??

9 comments:

Rebecca said...

Ohh brother. Maybe she will land a full time job that gives her lots of overtime...??

Anonymous said...

When, When is it ever going to be even a little bit easier for all of us? What the fuck did we do in a past life to deserve all of the shit that constantly surrounds us. Gina, you are a great woman.... hang in there. Help is on the way, in the form of a small blue pill. Xx

Miss Auntie

Wicked Shawn said...

Wait, someone named Miss Auntie is sending you Viagra???

*hands you some fucking vodka* So, other than all of that, how the hell are ya? We've been missing you around here. So much of the same. You know, same shit, different day. Don't be such a stranger. Although, I suppose it is hard to type, what with you being up on that cross and all. Cross, interesting choice, by the way.

Trooper Thorn said...

You need to move and leave no forwarding address.

Elly Lou said...

I miss you, muffin. Sounds like you need a gallon jug of the magic elixir.

pattypunker said...

i have a strange to urge to pin my imaginary IUD to that picture but for the life of me i don't know where exactly that thing is implanted.

here, swallow this (vidodin) with this (grey goose).

Suburban Kamikaze said...

We are so very sorry. We were not laughing at you, we were laughing with you. Very, very hard. Which, unfortunately led us to spill the vodka...

SK

Mrsblogalot said...

Oy, Vodka with a little twist of Abien.

Leave your medicine cabinet unlocked...I'll be there tonight.

Alexis AKA MOM said...

Oh my goodness! Ok stiff drink on me :)