copyright 1998 diary of a mad handyma'am an anonymous cyberspace diary & property of the mad handyma'am    1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11 12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31 October 5th, 1998 My writing has become very scattered again. And, I've felt quite scattered to match... I've been trying to catch up on all the little things that have been piling up. I'm in the pre-winter "try and get your shit together" mode < like it ever works... >. I haven't had time for everything I'd like to do. Not an uncommon circumstance in my life... in fact, it's a reoccurring theme. Annoying but so true. .. . The big "D" update thingy My sister has been doing well since she finally left the Mr. - finally < ! >. And so far, he hasn't bothered her. Not directly anyway - not yet. She hasn't seen his face since she left the house. The few times he has had the kids since she left, some clothing and baby bottles weren't returned when she picked the kids up at his mother's house. As you can see, at this point, he's doing nothing for his two kids. I'm not at all surprised that he would do whatever he could to inconvenience her. Neither is she. At least it's a minor annoyance. So far... October 7th, 1998 The evening sky looks like owens-corning pink insulation that has been both strewn and wadded up against a blue gray backdrop. Another rapidly fading day. I'm beginning to relate to the world around me in remodeling terms.  I'm not certain I like that. October 8th, 1998 Big D newsflash... The Mr. appeared on sis's doorstep banging on the door last night. Of course - she didn't answer his knock. According to the court order he isn't supposed to be near her, let alone appear on her porch. But, supposed to and do are often two different things. He left her a check for 100 bucks in the mailbox, along with a few other peices of mail. Apparently, a charitable contribution for the kids. It's true. The best thing that could happen now is that he would manage to get a girlfriend. THEN he might leave her alone entirely... ...maybe. October 11th, 1998 Today, I spent half of the day recovering with a hangover. The 2 beers and the schnapps I had last night greeted me with a thud when I woke up. My head was banging rhythmically with the pulse in my temples. I needed to take something for it. But, I had to wait... I felt like throwing up. I managed to haul my ghostly carcass over to the couch in the living room. There I lay asking God to please, please help me. My somersaulting abdomen had me confessing that I'd never do this again. Well, all I can say is that God apparently knew I was lying because no miracle occurred. None of the statuary shed tears. No surprising stigmata. No visions of the Virgin Mary ... ... nothing. .... .. . It was as if God said, "   suffer bitch  " as I most deservingly did. ...... So then, the handyma'am who wasn't feeling so handy dandy at the moment, had made plans to go to a neighborhood antique shop the night before with her friend Gail. The lure of musty, dusty old stuff has gripped them both like a disease. And here's where I offer proof that hangovers can be as bad as the night before: Gail arrives a few minutes shy of 1:00 for the adventure. We leave. We mill around the old warehouse for hours gawking at mostly pricey archaic items. We stop and see sis and the kids for a few minutes. On the way back home, I realize that I don't have keys to get in the house and Laura is working. Shit. Now how could I have been so stupid? Easy. I forgot. And was I ever mad at myself... ...after circling the house on foot and muttering about, I find the one possible avenue in breaking in. The front window. The sash had been left up slightly but the screen was secured with side clips that opened quite easily with a large paper clip Gail happened to have in her purse. Who would have guessed that an innocuous office product could really be a tool for a burglary. Gail doesn't even look the type. ======== October 13th, 1998 One of these days I hope to answer my accumulated e-mail. I've been VERY bad about it since the addition project began... ...you can sleep soundly knowing I am not purposely ignoring YOU - because I am inclusively ignoring everyone. And - YES - I do feel occasional guilty twinges because of it ... ...does that make you happy? .. . So what have I been doing? A bit of everything. Yesterday I tore the old back kitchen door off its hinges in preparation to reframe the opening for a new door. Or, I should say - a new old french door that's in the process of refinishing. hidden art The old door framing didn't include a header and the whole wall would shake whenever the door was slammed. The framing on the lock side of the door jamb was rotted away at the sill. Former owners apparently realized this problem and instead of replacing the framing, they opted to pump a couple of tubes of brown caulk into the missing portion. The caulk, of course, did nothing to enhance the actual structural integrity of the building - but, it did make quite an ugly rubberized sculpture ... Otha Sista stuff Sis has been working her ass off lately. The job at the caterer's has her hopping around like mad. She's not crazy about the erratic schedule - days, nights and weekends; but, she's doing what she has to do to get by and provide for her kids. A few weeks ago she got a call from the utility company inviting her to test for some positions that are available. She had apparently expressed an interest in working there quite some time ago, so she took the test - despite feeling somewhat guilty about doing so in light of her relatively new catering job. Well... with fate being what it is, her life is now headed in a new direction. That's right... she passed the test, got interviewed and: she GOT THE JOB! She starts her 6 month probation period on the 26th of the month as a meter reader for the utility company! Estatic she is < as are we> ! I can't think of anyone else who needed it more than she did. This is the best job opportunity she's had... ...and it couldn't have come at a better time for her and her new life! Congratulations sista! You deserve it! Now, back to the compound... It was quite cool this morning when Laura and I awoke. The missing door leading to the uninsulated addition left quite a noticeable draft coming throughout the house. With fall here and winter heading this way, insulation will be one of the next purchases we'll make. We even found a plumber! Lanky man Kurt was as close as the nearest store < 2 miles down the road >. He grew up right down the street from us and get this: he LOVES plumbing and isn't bothered at all by the crawlspace scenario. He's co-owner of the party-pizza-video store and said he'd take on the job with - now get this - true enthusiasm in his voice and a smile on his face! ... once the plumbing is settled and running ...it'll be removed from the bitch and whine list. Permanently. WHAT a frickin' relief that'll be. But then - what will we bitch about in it's place?

October 15th, 1998

Last weekend Laura suffered yet another snub by her one and only brother and his wife. Her oldest nephew turned 17, and, Laura was deliberately omitted from the guest list.

Seriously though, this situation is pathetic and intentionally hurtful. If it was up to her nephew - she would have been there. It's just that he has no control in a household with such a dominating, bigoted father; and, a mother who appears to be willing to tolerate him as household law.

It hurts me to see this. It hurts me to know that any grown person feels righteous enough to condemn and punish another human being for being themselves. It's the total hypocrisy in the situation that leaves me feeling enraged.

It's shit like this that keeps so many people in the closet. It's shit like this that makes the suicide rate for gay teens so damn high. It's shit like this that wounds people because it's anti-love. It's shit like this that promotes hate and tries to justify it by whatever means possible. It's just plain old shit to which I say:

Laura doesn't deserve to be treated this way. Too damn bad she doesn't live up to the expectations of anyone else - especially people who strangely < most likely > view themselves as "normal" and < might even think they > actually have "family values" while despising a family member.

I pity their ignorance < yet I suspect they may be too ignorant to see how ignorant they are >.

If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I hope that her brother comes back as an irrepressible, conspicuous, big-boned, screaming sissy queen smack in the middle of redneck land.

Matthew Shepard... may you rest in peace.

In case you don't know who Matthew Shepard was - he was a gay University of Wyoming student who died this week after being brutally beat and lashed to a fence by a couple of homophobic punks. Punks whose girlfriends tried to help them cover-up the crime.

Words on a page cannot express the sadness I feel due to this blatant incident. Matthew was sacrificed for their hatred.

It makes me sick to live in a country that lays claim to "and liberty and justice for all," - because we KNOW that isn't true. Even though it does sound good, much like politics itself: it works much better on paper than it does in real life. Like our "freedom" - it has become more concept than fact.

Our American "freedoms" are about as unequal as riverbank erosion. It DOES matter WHO you are - what COLOR you are - how much MONEY you have - if you're a commoner or a NOTABLE NAME... < etc., etc. >

The world needs more random acts of kindness than it needs random acts of hate.

October 20th, 1998

The work day arrives. As usual, I don't want to leave the bed < let alone the house > - but, I drag myself along in the dark anyway.

This particular morning finds every muscle in my body reminding me it is there, yet I walk without showing any visible signals of distress. 14 hours of non-stop work yesterday left this invisible, yet personally unmistakable mark.

Truthfully, it's a good feeling knowing how hard I worked. Almost as good as knowing that one day this will all be behind me.

Q: And, just WHAT did I work on over the weekend?

A: I built a small deck/dock leading to the main entry of the addition. I moved rocks that I used to landscape drainage areas around the deck/dock from various locations within the yard. I began insulating the addition walls < a start >. There is now a wolmanized wood floor where the washer and dryer will be < attached with construction adhesive directly between the wood and concrete floor >. I prepped the soon to arrive plumbing by drilling holes for the lines in the sill plate and installing a box for the water and drain hookup. The dryer vent is now secured - with a minor modification remaining. We should have plumbing by the weekend... I installed the first of three new Larson storm doors - and, spent about 3 hours sanding details by hand on the reclaimed french door... along with a few odds and ends.

Satisfied with what I accomplished, it was the handyma'am's definition of a productive weekend.

OH GOD! The idea of the office was less than appealing today < it was after all, my "Monday" >. It has been a drag since it's getting cooler at night and the daylight has diminished.

Leaves are beginning to fall from the trees and, THAT always makes me feel a little sad anyway. It's like a succinct death - and, every one of those leaves that hit the ground suggests a tear. Soon the world from the windows here will be black and white. Colorized only by people, signs, clothing and vehicles struggling against the deep freeze.

The wind rocked the light signals hanging overhead as I drove in this morning. I managed to get a few good whiffs of exhaust from a deisel fueled truck that hastily pulled out in front of me. I saw the lights of a low flying jet as I approached town and wondered where the people inside were going < half wishing I was on it >. Upon my arrival in the office parking lot, I turned off the ignition, gathered my things and swung open the door. I heard the crush of parched leaves under my shoe that had swirled up in a gathering along side the car door. Across the street I could see patrons at the gas station manning self-serve fuel pumps while their heads expelled visible breath. Everyone had a coat on for a change. Mine looked like a vampire cape as it captured a gust of wind as I walked around the building and up to the door. I thought of all the times I'd heard, "you'd better button up that coat or you'll catch a cold," and I figured it was at least as many times as you heard it.

There'd be nearly 2 hours before anyone else arrived. My stomach growled at me and I snarled back with a cup of French Vanilla with a shot of deep, dark Expresso.

October 30th, 1998

I know - I know - I know

...I have been completely LAX as far as my writing goes. You don't have to tell me.

Again, there's too much going on away from the keyboard, and, the time change through me for a loop < like I'm not loopy enough >. I HATE coming home for 45 minutes of remaining daylight.

There's way too much to do around here and I am burned out on working, cleaning, building, thinking and the like.

Many people I know have begun their Christmas shopping. I have barely given it a thought. And because I haven't, later I will deal will the pressurization factor. Add it to the frickin' pile.

I could kick myself in the ass for getting so far behind on little things like e-mail, snail mail, phone calls, relaxation and the etcetera of daily living. I'm even pissed off about not keeping up with my writing and...

...I'm beginning to think if I can't find the damn time to sit, relax and write consistently < even a few times a week > then maybe I should deconstruct this site before it turns into a half-assed project.

It seems the mad handyma'am is maddest at herself. You don't have to take it personally.

< I am excusing myself to locate an item to break in frustration... >