oh universe. you silly thing you.

you always know. always.

sometimes bad. sometimes good.

horrendous and miraculous.

but you know.

I literally cried all weekend. yes it was mother's day. I know this. but Friday and Sunday tried to kill me. I swear it. worked so hard on trying to get the washer hooked up. got the hoses hooked up and boom...water spraying everywhere. I cried. get the water situation fixed and there is still a cap on the drain. I cried. I even sent out an SOS on the book of faces. it simply said "Please send: flathead screwdriver, hammer and beer." within a few minutes I commented "found screwdriver and hammer" needless to say quite a few friends say the cry for help and started trying to mobilize a beer drop. I popped the cover off finally. I still cried. got it all ready to go and them boom...no electricity to the outlet. so I cried. one of my neighbors showed up. saw the state I was in and immediately left. but came back with beer! I cried again.

Saturday was great. we spent the day with the BFF and Big'R, who celebrated a birthday; as well as Lil'R. got to see Mid'K and Juice too. ate some awesome sushi and had some yummy froyo. walked around window shopping and just having a great time in general. left to come home after a wonderful day and cried. because it was one of the best days I have had in a while. and I miss the BFF and the kids so so much.

Sunday decided to hand me once since Saturday went so well. the electrician showed up and fixed the plugs so everything was golden on that end. I plugged in the washer and voila! we had power people. one small step for mom means no tears today. so then I decided to hook up the dryer. and realized that the cord was not hooked in yet. I struggled to get the plate off. cried. could get the wire hooked in but could NOT get the tension-relief-strain-stopper-don't-pull-the-cord-out-the-back thingamajig done. my hands would not work right. years of carpal tunnel and neuropathy have taken their toll. that screw seemed so small and my hands so big and clumsy. so I cried. and cried. and Lil'K stayed away because she thought I was nuts. and I was crying. and mom never cries. or at least she never used to this much. I eventually got the damned wire and tension thing done and in. could not wait to plug it in and get going. go to plug it in...wrong receptacle. the range and dryer outlets were backwards. cue more tears. luckily the electrician was still there and came and switched them around. plugged in...power. yay! wash a load. yay! move to dryer... fuck. we still had not cut the hole to vent the dryer. are. you. serious. tears. more tears. cussing. flinging of things. frustration. defeat.

between the washer and dryer and Friday and Sunday I can honestly say I was defeated by the weekend. and laundry apparently. it happens. just normally with much fewer crying.

the funny thing is where I work we have donors. and one of them is a younger guy. my age. and he was asking about how things were going. and as I was telling him you could see the horror on his face. "what in the hell is wrong with you? crying and shit. you've lost your inner dude. you are totally a girl now. we need to bring you out for beer and wings and man your ass up." I laughed and laughed. but it was so true. it seems like ever since I lost my uterus I lost my dudeness. yeah. do not ask me how that works, but it happened that way. me. crying and shit. jeez. I have been so weepy lately. like a big pansy. argh. this house thing is gonna be the death of me.

needless to say after all the book of faces posts and stories my cousin Harley has organized a group of people that are coming over this coming Sunday to help. Baby J send in the calvary! the universe heard me. and has sent an angel. it was supposed to be a surprise but she had to oust it because she had questions. and wanted to make sure I was up for it. and had a list. so yeah. surprise ruined. but that is ok. because I still do not know who all is coming. so that will be nice. I have made a list. and answered her questions about what I need and do not need. they are bringing food and help and paint and all kind of stuff. and just help. help. and I am ok with that at this point.

 and I am sure I will cry again. but it will be good tears. not tears of frustration. or anger. or sadness.

when i get quiet and still i can still feel it. smell it. hear it.

i still have nightmares. more nights than not. everything is on fire.

i have panic attacks so many times a day that i lose count. my chest is tight constantly.

it is still there. like a big  yellow sore thumb. staring at me. taunting me.

the hollowed out room of Big'K with it's burnt windows. the blackened windows in all the rooms.

but the outside looks fine. what's the problem? what do you mean you can't live in it? it's fine from the outside!

people are dicks. they don't know. they don't see what is hidden behind the bright yellow siding.

fire makes you a burden. on others. on yourself. emotionally. physically. it makes you feel helpless. and worthless. and stupid.

it has been 195 days since my house caught fire. a lot of the details are blurry. i remember parts of it. i wrote down what i could remember. i will share it. just not today.

i just mostly remember panic. horrible panic. this crazy screaming bitch. who could not calm down. and was just screaming. and hyperventilating. and shouting nonsense. and it was me. the one who never panics. straight the fuck panicked. like a crazy person.

the thing is it really isn't about the stuff. i love my stuff. and i mean really love my stuff. most of it is family stuff. furniture my mom and dad had. wooden pieces he made. barstools my grandma had for what seemed like eons before i even came along. my baptism gown that Big'K wore. the new one i bought for Lil'K so she would have a hand me down too. the only six outfits left from when i was an infant. my magic cards that Big'K begged to play with all the time but i always said no. the porcelain dolls Lil'K begged to play with all the time but i always said no. my graduation gown. their hospital bands. the newspapers from each of our birth month day and year. tidbits and pieces from my past. most of it was wooden. but some was not. things. just shit. crap i have tried to hold onto since i received them. thinking my life would just end if they were one day gone. fire being one of my worst fears. and then it happened. i have been able to save some of it. although it is scarred. dark and light spots where things were sitting before the fire and the wet soot settled after in the spaces in between. it will always be discolored. the six to ten pieces i have saved will always be flawed. and that is ok.

the good news is my life didn't end when i realized most everything was gone. it really didn't. it just kind of felt free. like wow. ok. all this stuff i have tied myself to forever is gone. ok. let us move along. and then devastation. and oh. my. god. my stuff. and back to eh it is what it is. and...and... exhaustion. and i have saved things. but when i look at them they no longer hold the love i once had for them. now they just hold sadness. we got lucky. we got very lucky. although nothing made of plastic or cloth or anything other than cast iron or stainless steel really survived, other than the wooden pieces that didn't burn, we were lucky. in that way.

i did think my life was going to end. burst into flames and float away with the wind. i truly for the first time in a long time just did not want to live. i just had no desire to continue breathing. for more than just one reason. and for reasons that would never cross your mind. and that is another story as well. and maybe i will tell it too.

insurance is a bitch. apparently the house, although deemed not repairable by the insurance in the beginning and at least two contractors, has been determined to be 'repairable' in the end. do what? yep. so now we don't get all of the insurance money. which i guess is ok when you have savings and stuff. but when you don't. and that money is what you are counting on to start over. and then you don't get it all. well it sucks. and it leaves you still without plumbing 195 days past flames. electricity having only been on a few weeks. pissing in a home depot bucket. showering at friends. still $3000 short. always fucking $3000 short. feeling like a burden. always a fucking burden. not knowing what to do. being so lost. knowing you are inside. but not being able to be found. appreciative of the help but gut wrenching sickness when you have to take it.

all in all we were so very lucky. none of us were hurt physically. mentally and emotionally are a whole different world. we were lucky to have wonderful friends who are like family. we were lucky to be so loved. and cared for.

the unlucky parts are worse though. because they are mostly emotional. and mental. and they just keep poking and digging at an already broken me. there is so much i just want to vent about. to vomit until the bad comes out. to scream. drink until i pass out. to cut just a little. to complain. cry and wail. flail on the ground until i am bloody. just to bitch. but it comes out in crazy spats. starts as one and warps into another. and then none of it makes sense. at all. not even to me. and the guilt. the horrible guilt. the mind numbing pathetic guilt. that i was out of it for so long. that i shut down. and closed in on myself. that i ruined things without knowing i did. without intending to. with trying to do what i thought was best. was easiest for everyone else. disappear inside myself. you can't see me. i'm not a burden now. feeling left out. feeling hated. feeling like the enemy. what - you don't understand...but you were doing everything you could to ruin it. but i wasn't. i really truly wasn't. i was thinking oh my god. freedom. help. love. family. what we have wanted. and yay. now it is here. but no. it's not. because you're one apple'd and a user. it was truly only the best of intentions. but every road to hell and destruction and fuckedupedness was paved with good intentions. good intentions from oblivious assholes. like me.

i know we were lucky. i do. but some days...well. we kinda weren't.

but i still miss my stuff. and my house. and myself. and i miss my best friend more than life. and my normal. and everything else that those flames took with them. the things that were burned have been the least ruined things. it's everything else that got fucked up since the flames. that has been the worst.

195 days. oh jesus. what will the next 195 hold...

with everything going on lately, the fact that my last post was my 100th completely passed me by.

yep. it did.

things seem to be progressing. the house is still sitting there. we cannot bring Lil'K to the site so getting in and getting the few remaining items I want out is proving a little difficult. hopefully after the first of the year we will be able to finish that up and start the 'throwing away to tear down' process. which is going to be hard. I loved my stuff. I am a sentimental fool. this I know. so having to go through the things that are not necessarily burnt but still ruined and need to be tossed is going to be hard. a lifetime (or more) of things that I have worked so hard to keep. just gone.

fire sucks.

I have had dreams throughout my life of fires. it is something that has always scared me. not only because it is so dangerous but also because everything is just gone. or ruined. or drenched or just in general jacked up. and it just sucks.

I am looking forward to moving in another direction. I am not sure where we will go and what we will do. the BFF and her family have been great. we have been staying here for the last two months. there are tons of plans on the block up for discussion. and we will just have to see.

Christmas is just around the corner and I can say it is going to be ok. I know it will. the kids have things under the tree. and we have new things all around us. it will be ok.

I do hope your holidays will be wonderful. I know that ours will.

and woot woot for having 100 posts. it took what seems like forever to get there. but I did.