Tales of Madness, Listeria Ridden Swimming Pools, Crack Dens, the Reaper show, Disco Lights, and well, More Madness really...

This Blog Page is currently under construction, as I am moving house - yet again. No doubt I will add bits and pieces as I go along, dancing and skipping merrily through the 'fun' that is the moving process. I hate it.

 Three damned times I've moved now in 11 months. THREE. As if emigrating wasn't enough. I've had to contend with cracked swimming pools full of toads and God alone knows what else that would have given even Michael Phelps something to think about, although he would have been happy as a pig in the proverbial - there was a crack den operating in the house next door. Then my furnace died. In winter. Which affected the water - don't ask. Needless to say I was without water for almost 3 months, so scooping it out of the well in the garden was the order of the day... or dancing under a drizzle that forced itself out of the shower head with all the enthusiasm of a two dollar whore at a c**k party. What fun. The phone calls I made were enough to make a pig laugh... I will post them here at a later date. 

During those six months, I almost had yet another nervous breakdown. I had chronic insomnia, which plagued me to such a point I almost tore out my own eyeballs, seriously. At one point I found myself in the garden, in the pouring rain, wondering how the hell I'd gotten there. I also had a few weeks where I was so out of it, and in such a weird mental state through lack of sleep, that I ended up hurling banana's and buns at birds in my garden. The only relief I had was howling with the Coyotes. This is telling you the shorter, and much saner version. There is WAY more. 

Oh yes, I almost forgot... I also had no cooker. For 6 months. The bullet holes in the street sign should have been a warning. Mind you, when the film crew of Reaper showed up and asked if they could film there, ''cos' it looks kinda creepy and just what we're looking for'', I have to admit to being rather excited, especially when they took me on a tour of the set, and I got to meet some of the crew and cast... then there were the Disco lights I found in hidden places in the living room... and lots, lots more. Like the morning I opened the cereal cupboard and found a mouse staring back at me, munching happily away on my muesli. It didn't even budge. Then again neither did the white rat I found in my laundry room just the other week here. See a pattern emerging? It sat there whilst I took out my washing, put it in the dryer, stared at me as I exited, and carried on with whatever it was that it was doing. 

In between all of this, I discovered that after years of being medicated, years of mental breakdowns and years of misdiagnosis, I actually have Asperger's.

I've been up, down, laughed with utter hysteria, cried with total despair, grown my hair, cut it all off, bit my fingernails down to the bone, and carved 'I am an idiot' into my face with a broken teaspoon. Just kidding about the last one. Its been a year of hell and oddness though, and one I don't wish to repeat. 

Oh and there's the guy I found, walking his dogs off-lead through my garden on a regular basis... who told me my house was being torn down. I thought he may have been some kind of apparition, until his dogs took a huge great crap in front of me, and yes - my house IS being torn down. That's why I'm moving. 

Oh my God... moving! I knew I should be doing something. Must go pack. Again.  Oh, I almost forgot... new house? Its miles away from anywhere, and I will have to collect my mail from the Gas station down the road. I also won't have any garbage collection... I've been told I will have to take it to the local dump. What dump?? Where? Christ, I only found the damned house by following a series of tree trunks, bends in the road and a dead skunk. Also I've been told to keep a tin box in the store cupboard. For storing fireworks in. Fireworks? Yep. To ward off the bears. Gonna be fun, this new house.  You'll find me catching shrimp down at the bayou on wednesday nights, playing my banjo, supping gin from a jam jar, and desperately trying to hang onto the last shred of sanity I have left. Knowing my luck it will be crazier than a snakes armpit.

 Pray for me, and tell Mother I love her.