rambling rose...Mr R., home life. and me

[roxy]

So, I've recovered from the trauma of the past week, personal and on-line. I had an exhausting time making Mr. Roxy happy by socializing with some couples, friends of his but one day, I'm going to blow the eff up. Theses friends like to tease him, but me, I see it as disrespectful. I think if I expressed how much I disliked it just once, they'd understand and stop. But he doesn't want me to do that because he is a patient man with a wonderful heart. He believes it's just friendly teasing. Maybe it is, maybe it's just me. I don’t take to that kind of teasing too well. These friends have teased me too, but since it's directed at me, I've felt justified in saying, "Yo, shut the fuck up."

Me, I'm too picky when it comes to people. It's nice to go out with him, though. And it makes him happy. And a happy Mr Roxy is a happy MizzRose. Heck yeah!

At the Rose home, things are strangely happy right now, considering my kitchen floor looks like a topo map of the Andes. Nothing makes the Roses pull their wagons in a ring like disaster, home remodeling or nature freaking out. Thanks goodness we're wired weird. Good news though—we're getting the price of the floor minus the deductible which is stiff but makes repair doable. We might sit tight for a bit and redo the cabinets too. They were cute but the worst, crappiest grade of builder's cabinets and it's only through sheer force of will and threat of extreme bodily harm that we've managed to keep them functioning for fourteen years. The children were taught that if you used the cabinet doors for body support, or slammed the drawers so hard they sprang back out and emptied their contents, it made the Baby Jesus cry—and your ass feel like it was on fire. Anyhoo, excitement is starting to bubble in my little walnut-like heart—new cabinets, maybe a new living room set…wait, let me tell you about my living room furniture, because when I talked about replacing it using my government bribe check, my beloved asked, "What for?"

What for? Well, let me see…the set is over twenty years old, of a fabric not from this planet. It's water proof. Cleansing proof. Fireproof, air proof, sitting proof. Once there was padding on the frame to protect the body from owies—no more. There are cushions…that's what we call them anyway. And, I got the set as a hand-me-down from my sister, who before she had the TBI used to tell me pretty frequently, "The ugly ass sofa set was meant only until you got something nice…please god get something nice."

"We Roses are a thrifty frugal tribe," I'd tell her and she would nod and murmur, "You are a cheap ass bitch."
She knew me so well, my beloved sis.

I've also been influenced by some wonderful people on my flist and have decided to try and get some of the flotsam of life out of my house. This is major. I'm the kind of person who will save a matchbook from a place we went…well, I don’t remember, for why, I don’t remember and with who, I'm not sure—but I saved the matchbook so it must mean something.

Yeah. Gone. Along with a quarter of my bears, tons of dishes and yard sale finds and lots and lots of stuff like that. Room by room until I swear, I can breathe again.

Ah, here I go babbling away instead of posting fic. Sorry, but the news about the floor was good and it made me feel happy and when I'm happy I want to share! When I'm not happy, I make posts private and whine and scream and lurk all over like big mopey mean thing. This is much better. *beams* Plus, a dear one popped up on LJ tonight and that made me happy too!

And in double plus good news, Lil Wayne is *finally* releasing the CD! Yer Mother is happy. She will enjoy him until he ends up finally completely tanking his career. Greatest Rapper Alive!

Comments

[epeters.livejournal.com]

but since it's directed at me, I've felt justified in saying, "Yo, shut the fuck up."

That would make me leave you alone. LOL