Jennifer

 

There we were.

The three of us, all misplaced. All fighting different demons that night. The night we all crashed at Alphonso’s apartment.

I did not know Pat very well. I had only met him a few days prior. We seemed to hit it off in a “We are both screwed up kind of way.” His girlfriend, who also worked at Walmart, was pregnant, and found herself not knowing who the father was.

Apartment B-303. Two flights up. Three if you are coming from the underground parking garage. I had only two bags with me. My purse, and an extra bag filled with clothes, makeup, and a journal.

It was quiet. The lights were all off. The only sound was coming from the back bedroom. “Delilah” was playing from the radio.  It was close to 3 am and we knew Alphonso’s roommate, Christin, was sleeping. She had to be at work in four hours.

Alphonso, Pat and I continued our drinking binge. We drank, we talked, we ate, we drank some more, and then we passed out on the living room floor.

The next morning, found us all dealing not only with a hangover but unanswered questions. What were we going to do? Alphonso and his constant struggle of feeling like he never fits in. Pat, not knowing if he was the father or not, and me.

There were two sofas in Apartment B-303. I was sitting on one, Pat was on the other, flipping through one of Alphonso’s fashion magazines. Alphonso was in the kitchen making an early cocktail. He knew I was nervous. The constant cigarettes, were a dead give away. “Stop being dumb, everything will be okay.”

Christin comes in the front door. A young twenty-something woman, who looked like she had her act together. Her light brown hair was swept up in a clip, very minimal makeup, yet pretty in an “All American Girl” kind of way.

She looks and me, she looks at Pat, gives us a nervous kind of “hello” and heads to her bedroom, but not before she calls Alphonso to follow her.

I am pacing, while Pat is on his second fashion magazine. He tells me to calm down and that everything will be okay. I silently wonder how it is that he can be so calm. I mean he has a lot at stake too. His girlfriend kicked him out of their apartment. I suppose that happens when one is a whore.

About twenty minutes later, Alphonso and Christin come out from the bedroom. They have a bill that needs to be paid in person. Alphonso asked, or maybe he told Pat and I “Come on, we need to go pay a bill, and then go to the mall.”

And then just like that, we were off.

All four of us.

Christin

 

Alphonso and his 60,000 fashion magazines, along with my stuff were jammed into my Nissan Sentra and we were off.

We drove 16 hours to Washington State. The journey from California to Washington was a somber one. We stopped and saw Mt. Shasta and a few beaches on the way. But in the back of my mind, I kept doubting my decision to leave. I almost turned my car around a few times. I wanted to go back. I wanted to see Freddie. I just wanted so much that my mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of the future and of my past.

As we arrived in Federal Way, a suburb of Seattle, a place that we randomly chose, there was no going back. I was onto a new adventure and a new chapter in my life. Once in Federal Way, we found this cute 3rd story apartment overlooking the Puget Sound. Apartment B303.Little did I know at that time how this apartment and the people in it were going to influence my life forever. But we will get to that later.

Once we moved in, everything was very quiet and uneventful. Alphonso could be seen any given day watching endless episodes of “Sex and the City”. Things were mundane for the first few months and then it changed.

I woke up one morning to people sleeping in my living room. I thought I was seeing things as it was very early in the morning. I wasn’t. I figured they were friends of Alphonso’s and left for work thinking they would be gone when I got home. They weren’t. So that evening I pulled Alphonso aside and asked “What are these people doing here”. He responded in his normal nonchalant way “They need a place to stay”. I agreed, however I didn’t think it was going to be for an extended amount of time, maybe just a day or two. I was wrong.

So technically, this is how Jen and I met. Jen was sleeping in my living room one morning. First impression: She had big hair and looked Indian (not native American). The other person sleeping in my living room turned out to be Pat. He had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. That in itself should have been a red flag for all of us. But you will have to stay tuned for that story.

Oddly enough, Jen, Alphonso and I became close friends. We were different in a lot of ways but we did have some similarities. First of all, we are all Cancers. Jen and I actually share a birthday. We all were far away from our families. Most importantly, I feel like we all were a little (or a lot) lost.

So there we were, an interesting threesome. Jen with the big hair, “interesting” fashion sense and somewhat reserved personality (until she got a few drinks in her), Alphonso with the perfect eyebrows, his art pad and a sarcastic sense of humor, and me. I was barely 21, didn’t know much about anything, extremely naïve and was desperately trying to figure out who I was.

Three different people who found themselves in that apartment. Apartment B303.

The year 2001 was a game changer for me. I was in my early 20s, raising two young boys by myself, and was no not in the most ideal situation. I just left a physically abusive relationship, and had nowhere to go. Of course I knew I could always go back home, to Denver, CO. That was just not an option for me. I left Denver to get away, to start something new, to start life. I could not go back and admit that I messed up. I had to find a way to make it work in Federal Way. I had to.

I was working full-time as a customer service manager at Walmart. Although it was not great money, it was something. A way to provide for my seven year old son and one month old baby boy. I just needed a place to stay temporary until I was able to save up enough money for our own place. I was determined to make it happen. I just did not know how.
On my day off from work, I took my two sons to Walmart. My seven year old needed shoes for school, and I was down to my last 30 bucks until payday-which was three days away. His shoes had to come first.

I purchased the shoes, came outside to the bench so my seven year old, AJ, could put them on. My baby was crying, I had to feed him, and of course I had no bottle with me. I am arguing with AJ because apparently in the time it took to pick out the shoes, pay for the shoes and come outside so he could put them on, he decided he no longer liked them.
“You are wearing the shoes! I do not care, you are wearing the shoes.!”
And that is when I met Alphonso. He was on break, sitting on a corner bench, smoking his cigarette and laughing at me. I gave him a quick “Do not even start with me” glance. He put his cigarette out, came over to help my son with his shoes, gave me the up and down look over and said,”You are just a big hot mess, aren’t you?”
That is how I met my best friend.

Ever since the first meeting, where he was not only critiquing my mothering, but also my look, we became fast friends. We took our breaks together, we took lunches together, we would talk on the phone when we were not at work. He would tell me about his roommate, Christin, who also worked at the store. I worked a different shift than her, so I had no idea who she was. I told him about my situation, with my boys, and he told me all about him and his fashion magazines.

There was a small group of us at work who became fast friends. One friend in particular, Jessie, offered for my boys and me to come stay with her and her husband until I save enough money for my own apartment. I was running out of time. The person who abused me, was on his way out of jail, and I was on borrowed time. I had to find somewhere to go, and Jessie was my saving grace.
It was a great arrangement for the first two months, and then things got bad very quickly. Let me explain something. Jessie was amazing. She turned her dining room into a bedroom for my boys and me. She helped me pack my belongings and made sure I was able to move out safely. She had my back, she had my boys back. This woman was an angel. She went above and beyond.
When her husband propositioned me, when he told me he would get a hotel room so we could have sex, my world fell apart. How could he do this to me, and more importantly how could he do this to his wife, who moved mountains to help me. I knew I could no longer stay there, and I still did not have enough money saved to get my own place.
I was forced to make one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make. I had to send AJ with family in Virginia temporarily, just to give me some time. I needed more time. I would keep the baby with me, only because he was so young. Saying good-bye to AJ at the Sea-Tac airport was a day I will never forget. I was at an-all-time low, and I had no idea how I would go on. My only goal, was to get enough money to make a home for me and my boys.

A few days after AJ left, I was court ordered to allow my ex to have visitation. I had a restraining order against him, which means we had to have a mediator. Another friend at work was gracious enough to take the baby and me to a meeting place so the piece of garbage could see him. Did I mention Wa State law sucks? Everything was agreed on, he would have the baby for two days, and then I would pick him up, with my mediator in the same place. Except, that did not happen. The piece of garbage never brought my baby back. He took him and there was not a thing I could do. You see, at this point the piece of garbage was listed on the birth certificate. The only order that legally had to be upheld was the no contact order us. The custody order was still in progress. The Federal Way Police Department, along with Child Protective Services of Wa State told me there was nothing I could do. Piece of garbage was listed on the birth certificate. It did not matter that the piece of shit was in jail for physically abusing me. It did not matter that I had pictures taking by the police department. It was two separate issues and I was screwed. Basically, I had to get my baby back on my own.

You talk about hitting rock bottom, this was mine. I had to send one son away, and for all intense and purposes my baby had been kidnapped, and I was going to be homeless in a matter of days. I did not want to go on, I did not how to go on. I was done.
I met up with Alphonso that night, a long with a mutual new friend, Pat. This was the first time Alphonso and I hung out outside work. This was the first time I did not have my children with me. I no longer cared. I just wanted a drinking buddy, I wanted to drink to forget and I was going in balls to the wall. All of us, Alphonso, Pat and me were fighting our own demons that night. None of us cared about anything, except drinking.

At the end of our drinking binge, I was screwed. I could not go to Jessie’s house. This was the night she was confronting her husband. She told me “This is your home, you do not have to leave.” But, I did. There was no way I could be there. Alphonso, Pat and I were driving in the car, and it hit me. I have no place to go. I have no kids, I do not have anything. I am nothing. I deserve nothing, there was no way for me to fix this. There was no way out.

And that’s when Alphonso said
“You can crash at my place.”

I ended up in San Jose, California a few months after I had graduated.

I had met a guy online. I decided to move to a new state where I knew exactly 1 person. Not one of my brightest moments. My mom told me not to go but I was stubborn to say the least. I guess I had to learn the hard way.

So me, my two suitcases and a headfull of dreams ended up at SeaTac airport. I remember boarding the plane thinking “this is the best decision I’ve ever made”…The plane landed and reality soon set in. Long story short, the guy and I didn’t work out. Surprising right? Yeah, I know you are thinking “should’ve listened to your mom”. Well I didn’t.

I moved out of our apartment shortly after and got my own place. I began to branch out and experience new things. Throughout this time, I began making new friends. One of my first friends upon moving was Joseph. He was a flamboyant little guy that liked to have a good time. He invited me to his birthday party and me being new and not knowing many people, I obliged. This is where I first met Alphonso. He was standing back and observing the debauchery that was occurring. This was no ordinary party. Joseph did a nice little song and dance to Cher’s “Do you believe” song…that was something I never saw before. I quickly realized I was not in Washington State anymore. Welcome to California, where the strangest things WILL happen.

I soaked everything up like a sponge. The culture, the people, the newness of everything. I loved it. I felt I belonged here more than anywhere I had ever been. I began dating and really enjoyed traveling around and seeing things for the first time like Alcatraz, sightseeing in San Francisco and hanging out on the beach.

On one occasion, I was invited to San Francisco by a coworker. I didn’t really look at it as a date more like just hanging out with a friend. He took me to all the sightseeing attractions in San Francisco. We spent the whole day there. By the time we got back to San Jose, it was pretty late. He insisted on me spending the night at his house but something inside me (what I now know to be intuition) told me to not go. I insisted he take me to my car, which was at the Walmart parking lot. I convinced him that I needed to get some stuff out of my car. The truth was I wanted to get away from him as soon as I could. Just this feeling of “get the hell out quick” came over me. He pulled up next to my car in an almost dark, empty parking lot. I got out and said I will be back in a minute. I got out and he must’ve caught on to me, he got out and grabbed my coat. I pulled my arm back and quickly got in my car. Thank God for car remotes because I fear that if I hadn’t unlocked my car prior, it would have turned out much differently. I jumped in and locked myself in the car. He began banging on my car window and telling me he just wanted to talk. I started my car and got the hell out of there. I remember shaking with adrenaline, realizing what I had just escaped from. God only knows what he had in store for me that night.

A few weeks later he was arrested at the store. I’m not sure what he did. Part of me didn’t want to know.

One of the better memories of this time is when I met Freddie. I had met him the very first day I started at the San Jose Wal-mart. He was tall, dark and handsome. He was soft spoken and had eyes that were so kind. I remember the first time I left Cali to fly home for Christmas he gave this cute little card inside it read “ To you and your family, Be careful when you are at the airport, don’t talk to any strangers, Love always Freddie” This is when I knew he was the one for me. So thoughtful, so amazing in every way.

Soon after he asked me out on our first date. I was so nervous. He picked me up and we went to the movies. I had not dressed appropriately for the weather and found myself freezing. He gave me his sweater to wear. I can go on and on about him, but I’m sure you can guess how the rest went. I fell in love with him. We did everything together. We talked about getting married, having kids and spending our lives together. Well, just my luck. It didn’t turn out that way.

After two years, I became homesick and missed my family. Yeah I visited every 3 or 4 months but I felt like I was missing so much. I decided to move back to Washington. We talked about having a long distance relationship or him moving to Washington State. The night before I left, he gave me a ring. He promised we would figure it out. I believed him.

So as I loaded my Sentra and picked up Alphonso, my heart was telling me to stay.

I left anyways.

Jennifer

It was another morning of running late to school. I had no time to get to the coffee shop if I was going to have my 15-year-old son to school on time. Once he gets his driver’s license, it will feel like Christmas morning, I am not going to lie. Between three kids and a husband who works crazy hours, I needed help. I openly admit I am not one of those perfect Pinterest moms. I do not have my shit together, far from it. On any given day there is always some crisis that could have been avoided if I was one of those Pinterest moms.

I only had a 15 minute time span from dropping off my son,to get my daughters to their school. My eleven-year-old had only been diagnosed with autism just last year. We are still trying to learn how to adapt to her, which basically means coffee would have to wait, as to not take her out of her usual routine.

One thing that could not wait, the one thing I specifically had to pencil in my appointment book, was the phone call. I had to make sure I found the time to call Christin today. We had much to discus. Finding Alphonso, our best friend, our brother, our wing man, needed to become our number one priority. In our younger days, when we all moved to federal Way Wa, not knowing what the road in front of us would lead, we were inseparable.

 

Christin

I guess you could say it was like any other day.

I woke up to the nagging “beep,beep,beep” of the alarm. I hit snooze twice. Let’s face it, 2 more minute to sleep is priceless when you had been up since 1am working on an English paper. After talking myself into getting up, reluctantly, I did.

Now comes the hard part. I have to wake up my kids, Kaidon and Kharizma. Kharizma not so hard. Kaidon impossibly hard. They got up and got ready and I took them to school. They say it gets easier as they get older. But as a mother of an 11-year-old boy and 13-year-old girl, I assure you that is a big fat lie.

After dropping them off at school, I feel a sense of accomplishment. One thing down, 50 more to go. As I’m driving home, I find myself daydreaming about margaritas on the beach. That’s just gonna have to wait. I open the front door to find my cats meowing at me. Apparently their food bowl is not abundantly full as they prefer. First things first, fill the damn bowl so they will stop yelling at me. The bowl is filled.

I have exactly one hour to make to my first class and all I really want to do is to go back to bed. I jump into the shower and get dressed. Throw my daily eggs and bacon on the griddle while I throw some makeup on my wrinkles that are starting to show. I look in the mirror and think “this is good as it gets”. I guess when you are 35 years old, you dream about the body and non-wrinkly face you had at 21. Those days are dead and gone.

I grab my backpack, purse, water bottle, sunglasses, keys, and oh is there something else I can’t remember? No, just old age. I jump in the jeep and head to school. Now you might be thinking “aren’t you kind of old to be going to college”? My answer: Well, I had two kids under the age of 3 by the time I was 24 years old. I had to put my dreams on hold. AND just so you know, to my delight, there are people MUCH older than me in college. Thank goodness. So I spend the next 5 hours at school. Learning about x+y+w=T and how to structure sentences properly using MLA format. Yeah, interesting, I know.

I’m driving home from school, thinking about a nap. But there is no time. I have to pick kids up from school. I pick them and as I am heading home, my phone starts dinging and vibrating. I get home and pull my phone out. A message from Jen popped up “Alphonso, is missing…we have to find him” Instantly, I was transported to a time before kids, before life took over, before the wrinkles began to show. Our old friend was missing.

At one time, it was always us 3. Jen, Alphonso and myself. We were always getting into some trouble, thinking we had good ideas (they were usually not) and most importantly we always had each other’s backs when the world was against us. We had all seen each other at the lowest points in each of our lives.

Now one of us was missing.

It was a crisp autumn night in September 1989. I was a young shy, insecure girl who had a slight obsession with the popular 80’s group Montley Crue.

Even back then, music was my everything. Music made everything better, music took me to different places , and on occasion, music helped me to escape my reality. When I was deep in my thoughts, I was no longer a shy insecure girl. Music made me feel pretty, and confident, and untouchable.

It was a Wednesday night. We had just returned home from church. It had become our routine to hit the kitchen for some snacks, and play some music as we were all winding down from our day, while preparing for the next.

I had saved up enough money from my allowance to purchase Montley Crue’s newest album. “Dr. Feelgood.”

This was their first album after getting sober. A very important album to the true fans.  Their song “Time For Change” had my other favorite group Skid Row doing  vocals.  Back then, I was determined to marry one of them. I did not care who, I just wanted to marry one of them.

Due to the busy school day, and church that night, I had not been able to listen to the album in its entireity. The only thing I cared about that wednesday night in 1989 was listening to Dr Feelgood.

Dad, unwillingly agreed.

The boombox was on top of the fridge. I rushed over to hit play, and the magic began. Dr. Feelgood, their first single from the album. That opening bass/guitar with Mick and Nikki. Tommy Lee bringing it in with the drums, and the vocals of Vince.

“Rat-tailed Jimmy is a second hand hood
He deals out in Hollywood
Got a ’65 Chevy, primered flames
Traded for some powdered goods”

It was magic.

Dad did not agree.

By the time I got to track 11 Dad had enough. It went a little something like this.

Dad~ Why am I listening to this, this is not music, you want to know good music, how about the Stones or Dylan, now that is good music.

And, it was now on. I have always respected my dad, because, he is my dad. However, I needed to take a stand. I needed to stick up for my boys! For my future husband!

Me~ It is music! It’s the best music! How can you NOT like this? Did you even listen to the lyrics? The Rolling Stones are old!

Oh boy did that last statment set him off.

Dad~ You know what, come talk to me in twenty years and we will see who is still around! No one is going to remember Montley Crue, the Stones, they will go down in history!

Me~ Montley Crue will be just as popular if not more so  than your music, you just wait and see!

Well, fast forward some twenty year (give or take) and the day is finally here. I can finally say to my dear ole dad I TOLD YOU SO!!

Let me do a quick recap.

1989 ~ Dr Feelgood comes out, their first album they did sober.

1992~ Montley Crue broke up due to the popularity of grunge music.

1997~ Montley Crue reunited.

1999~ Montley Crue took a hiatus.

2001~ An autobiography “The Dirt”stated that Montley Crue was “the world’s most notorious rock band.”

2004~ All original members returned for a reunion.

2006~ Headline tour with Aerosmith

2007~ Eureopean tour

2008~ Their ninth album was released.

2009~ Headlined Crue Fest 2 festival

2010~ headlined Ozzfest

2011~ Headline with Posion

2012~  Recorded “Sex” a new song.

2013~ Announced their biggest Candaian tour yet.

2014~ Announced retirement

2015~ Announced they would do one last world tour.

December 2015, Montley Crue played for the last time at the Staples Center.

Allow me to point out, it has not even been a year since their final performance.

I would also like to point out that somewhere along the way, my dad became a fan of Montley Crue, as I did The Rolling Stones. “Beast of Burden” “Paint it Black” and “Wild Horses” are some of my all time favorite songs.

I knew, all those years ago. A lifetime ago, in that kitchen on Wormington Dr, in Chesapeak, Virginia, as I was arguing with my father regarding the fate of Montley Crue, I knew I would be right. I knew they would make it.

And now, I have children of my own. I try my hardest to introduce them to Montley Crue.

Vinnie~ How old is this music?

Sofia~ Why does their hair look like that?

Gracie~ What are you listening to mother?

I take it in. I take it all in, because I know in twenty some years from now, when they hear the infamous intro to Dr Feelgood, they will think of me…and most likely roll their eyes, and make fun of me, but they will think of me, and my days as a young girl, and what Montley Crue meant to me.

And because of that, Montley Crue will go down in history in more ways than one.

 

 

 

“She knew she had to have the upper hand. She knew she could not be too available, even though a small part of her wanted to be.

She knew she had to wait it out, and “play it cool” as the younger kids say. Because- if she waited it out, then her answer would come.

She was just uncertain what that answer would be.

May she did though. Maybe she did know the answer. If she did, what was she questioning? Just let it play out and be patient, even though it is dangerous…and wrong.

She had to know, because right now there was no risk, and for now, she would continue to push that voice aside that told her,

there is always a risk.”

 

“She knew she was on a dangerous path. A path she knew she has no business being on. Yet, there was a part of her that enjoyed this path.

As long as she keeps the two paths separate, then everything should be okay. No one would get hurt.

She knew she should have asked for guidance a long time ago.

She was now at the point where she did not even know if she wanted the guidance.

She knew what the answer would be.

She knew she was just looking for a sign. Just one small sign. Worse case scenario would be a kiss, an easier scenario would be an invite. She knew she just wanted something that would leave no questions. She had to have this before she got off her dangerous path, because, she was now enjoying it a little too much.”

 

I had to venture out to Walmart today, which was mistake number 1.

My son had asked me if I could do a return for him, and I told him I would. That would be mistake number 2.

I take my place in the customer service desk line. No surprise, there were about 15 people and one cashier. Whatever. I was in no rush. The plus side, no one was in their pj’s.

In front of me were these two middle age individuals. I cannot even describe them without sounding like a judgemental stuck up witch, but I will give it a go.

They looked like extra’s from The Walking Dead.

For some reason they were eating their lunch in line. McChicken sandwiches and a drink. So perhaps they were on their lunch break and short on time? Fine, I get it.

What I do not get is, are they really that short on time that they do not know what a napkin is? One of the individuals had mayo all over his face, while scarfing down his third McChicken sandwich. I am sorry, it was just gross. There was lettuce on his shirt, and he was chewing with his mouth open. It was then I realized he was missing quite a few teeth which may explain the mayo all over his face and lettuce on his shirt.

By the fourth McChicken, it was their turn in line. They needed to send money somewhere. The cashier explained to them they needed to fill out the paperwork. As they did that, it was finally my turn to do my return.

Easiest return ever. I thank the cashier and I am on way.

Except, I wasn’t.

As I turn to leave the service desk line, I can feel my feet slowly start to slip out from under me.

No, no, no, this cannot be happening to me.

CRASH!!!

It happened.

I fell flat on my rear end in front of about 15 people, not counting the cashier.

Why? Just why?

When I was offered a greasy hand, coated with mayo to help me up, I knew I was now reliving a very bad nightmare.

I took his hand!!

I had no choice, I really did need help up, and no one else decided to offer.

Thank you Walmart shoppers.

A Walmart associate asked if I was hurt.

“You mean other than my ego??”

I slowly got myself together, the Walmart associate and I looked down. Do you know what we saw? A big pile of lettuce and mayo on the ground, all smeared in. The rest was on my jeans.

A quick comment was made by me on how she probably needs to have someone clean that up.

Quickly, I scurry away so I can pick up the ONE thing on my list and get the hell out of there.

So OF COURSE it was no surprise when I ran into a very old, dear friend, who is also a manager at this particular Walmart.

“Hey Jen, How’s it going?”

“Oh good, I just fell on my ass in front of your service desk, other than that, I am good.”

After she got her laughter under control, she asked if I was okay, asked if I wanted to file an incident report, you know the drill.

The last thing I want to do is fill out an incident report. I mean it was not the fault of Walmart, it was the fault of these two (in my opinion) Morons, who decided to eat their lunch in line and not pay attention to the mess they made.

So freaking embarrassing.

Even more so, I am sure there is video footage out there of my falling on my ass in front of the Walmart Service Desk. It may make its way to youtube, or a few chosen people may get a good laugh at the crazy lady who fell over her own two feet.

But I am telling you, I tripped over mayo and lettuce.

 

 

 

Every week Kate Bouska has a list of writing prompts for those of us that need a little extra push with…writing. I decided to get back in the swing of things, as I need that little extra push. Go figure.

I chose the prompt “Write about something funny a sibling said to you.” Except, in pure “Jen Form,” I am switching it up a little. If I were to write about something funny my sibling said to me, we would be here all night. Also, since this post will go on Facebook, I may run the risk of them deleting me. Assuming they actually read my blog, which they don’t. I know this because every time I write a blog, I have to call them up 2-3 days later and ask “Did you read my blog?” It is at this point they play dumb. “What blog, you posted a blog, I must have missed it.”

So, in the off chance that they actually do read this blog, I am changing the prompt slightly to “Something funny I said to my sibling…this week.”

First up. My brother. A quick recap. My brother joined the Navy about two years ago? I do not remember, and since my brother does not read my blogs, he cannot correct me if I am wrong. He went from boot camp, to school to deployment, and is now safely stationed on the west coast. So…..imagine my surprise when I saw this picture with the following caption on Facebook.

“An unforgettable day, being flown on to the carrier [our new home] in the middle of the Arabian Sea. We had no clue what we were getting into…‪#‎throwback‬”

As soon as I saw this picture, my heart froze and I HAD to call my brother.

Brother~ Hello?

Me~ Oh my God, you answered! What does your Facebook post mean? Where are you, are you in the middle of the ocean?

Brother~ What post, I did not post anything?

Me~ Yes you did, the picture of you and some guy and you are in a plane and you said your new home is in the middle of the Arabian Sea!!!!

Brother~ Well, Jen, if it says “throwback” behind it, then, you know, it is a throwback picture!!!!

* Very long pause.*

Me~ I am an idiot and we will never speak of this again.
__________

My youngest sister.
Where to even begin. She is getting married in April. Actually she is getting married in exactly two months. How exciting, right? Her first wedding. Call me crazy, but one would think that the invites would have already been mailed out, right? Also, one would think at the very least the “Save the Date” cards would be mailed out, right? Wrong!! So, I do what any normal older and wiser sister would do, and I gave her a call.

Youngest Sis~ Hello?

Me~ Hey! A little bird told me you have not even sent your wedding invites out yet. Are you serious? What if no one shows up? I know you, you are going to wait until the last week in March to send them out. You can’t do that, you have to give people more notice. Also, if I were you, I would not even worry about the “Save the Date” I mean at this point what is the point?

Youngest Sis~ Okay MOM!!!!

Me~ Okay, point taken. We will never speak of this again.

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My middle sister.
Her and I are so alike it is sometimes scary. We talk about twice a day, every single day. Our husbands sure love that! Her husband if a very experienced maintenance man. He started at the bottom, and worked himself up. He is good at what he does, which is why every time something goes wrong in my ghetto apartment, I give them a call, or, send them a picture of what is wrong, in the hopes that he will tell me how to fix it.

Like last night for example. There is something odd going on in my bathroom. The walls just do not look right. Now, keep in mind I do live in a crappy apartment. It is my goal no matter what to be in a house by October. But, for now, I am living in The Hood.

On my bathroom walls, there was this black stuff. Like little dots all spaced out, everywhere you look. Clearly, this is not normal. So I did what I always do, snapped a picture and sent it to them. Then I get the phone call.

Me~ Hi!

Middle Sis~ Jennifer, that is mold on your wall, that is dangerous for not only you but the children, call you landlord like yesterday!

Me~ So basically what you are saying is this can’t wait until Monday, because I am really busy this week and…..

Middle Sis~ CALL YOUR MAINTENANCE ASAP!

Ugh. Fine.

However, and as of this post, I still have not confessed this to my sister, and because she does not read my blog, I have nothing to worry about-so no one tell her!

On closer inspection of my bathroom wall, I noticed something I did not notice when I took the original pic.

Hmmm. Well look at that. All I have to do is blow on the mold and it moves. I did not know mold could move……wait a minute, mold does not move, right? It does not just disappear when you blow on it? Hmmmm…..I wonder, let me just try something…….Oh…look at that……maybe it is not mold. I mean it is coming off with a wet rag. Perhaps this is just some kind of dirt and dust? Perhaps I do not have mold after all? I mean maybe my housekeeping skills need a bit improvement? I am busy during the week, who has the time to inspect walls???? Then when I come home, I have to do dinner and homework and Vodka…….okay, yes, it looks like the walls just need a good dusting/cleaning.

I am an idiot and we will never speak of this again.
Also, we will never tell my sister.