be it ever so crumbled, there’s no place like home…

i remember sitting in the living room and telling my Mom i had a seen a glimpse into my future…

…and i’d had it while looking at her boyfriend.

he was a heavy guy, who you could tell had probably been aging well and then let himself go. he’d driven the same vehicle forever. he lived in the house he grew up in, which he inherited after his folks died and he turned it into his version of a bachelor pad and just never left.

“that’s foolish”, Mom replied, “there are great things in store for you…” and she began to drone on about the volkswagen/overpass story*…

…that living room is now my office where i’m typing this to you some twenty years later.

whoops.

this started off as me bitching about plumbing issues which i have since resolved but only to the point where they just started to rear their ugly, shitty head again yesterday (“shitty” seems an appropriate adjective when describing sewage drain issues, no?) and have now (this is being written over several days) seemed to have resolved themselves.

good.

but i’m about to have to go grab some flex-seal (or the rust-o-leum version there of) and try to fix my roof. i’m praying the a/c can make it through another couple summers so i can figure out how to afford the five large it’ll take for a new one. and in the interim i get to pay out the nose AND ass for keeping it going ’cause it uses the “older freon” which has more than doubled in price in the last year ’cause they’re trying to phase it out.

welcome to my world.

recently i found out my house actually turned FIFTY last year. i had no idea. but state farm looked up the property history and let me know when i got a home owner’s quote. shit, who knew? it’s still standing tall and keeps the rain off my head (unless i sleep on the ufc’s side of the bed right now, but i plan on fixing that!) but do i want to die here?

*one of the least known stories about my life (and i have a news clipping about it somewhere here but i’m not sure where) but when Moms was driving under IH-35 on woodland ave in south austin on the way to my grandmother’s a caddy hit the guard rail hard enough to knock said rail clean the fuck off it’s posts and it plummeted down to the road below landing on top of Mom’s VW bug as she was passing under…keep in mind this was not a modern, cheap, peel back guard rail but rather the hard, heavy, take a beating circa late 1950’s early 1960’s kind of rail that were heavy as balls and should have crushed the car – but instead just bounced off it as if by some kind of “miracle” (Mom’s words – not the reporter for the paper) and a week later she found out she was pregnant with me, hence her belief that she had been spared to birth me and i’d turn into something awesome…and instead the world got…well…this site and me. so much for “fate” and shit, huh?