It's not about the house.

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Destroyed By Madness

I know I said I'd write this poem this morning, but it's going to have to wait. Before I go to bed tonight, I promise. I've been shanghaied by life, in its myriad impish ways...

First of all, I'm not even going to get into the nightmare we've been through with the Kid this week. I'll tell the whole story when it's over, but for now suffice to say that yesterday his Father called here to yell at him and tell him he would kick his ass if he didn't get it done by Friday. He swears he will; I'll believe it when I see it. But in the meantime I have to go to city hall first thing this morning and get an electrical permit -- which, silly me, I sort of assumed the guy I hired to do the job would have taken care of. [Except I just called and I can't. I need a licensed electrician to do it. Balls.]

Second of all, in the middle of all this Kid stuff, we plumb forgot about #1. Johnny doctor's appointment on Tuesday night, and #2. Johnny's appointment with Immigration Wednesday morning. That last one's worse, but hopefully not quite as bad as it sounds. I did send the thing in asking for a new appointment, but we haven't received any confirmation. I spent a half an hour on the phone this morning, only to be told that they can't tell me anything. We just have to sit and wait for him to either get a new appointment notice in the mail, or get deported. Ah well. On the bright side -- think of all the cash we'll save on plane fare!

(And can I just say: This is not a bitch about the immigrants -- I'm married to an immigrant, for crying out loud -- but there is no love lost between me and the USCIS. If you call the number on your English-printed form and wait on hold for twenty minutes without ever pushing a single button, and every recording that you hear while you're on hold is in both English and Spanish... is it unreasonable to assume you'll have the option of speaking English when a live person finally comes on the line? The first time I called, a Spanish-speaking operator came on and I asked for English, he disconnected me! I had to call back and wait on hold again. I got a Spanish-speaking lady this time. I asked her for English and she scolded me for "coming through on her Spanish line.")

Third -- and, in my mind, worst of all -- look at the freaking spider that was in my bathroom this morning!

Yes it is worst of all. If Johnny gets deported I can move to Ireland, live in a house we own free and clear without a mortgage, get socialized health care and not pay any taxes on my writing income. This fucker might actually touch me! (Also, okay, maybe I could clean the outside corner of the shower better, but that's not the point...)

The point is: I sat down on the toilet and saw that bastard and jumped back up and ran for Johnny. "Come kill this thing," I said, "no fucking around. No taking it outside. You kill it, do you hear me? Kill. It."

He limped in (I keep forgetting that he's broken), took a look, and said "Oh, jesus, even I'm afraid of that one." And he went for the flyswatter that my mother gave me for just this very purpose.

Yes, that is my office chair it's leaning on. Ain't Mom grand?

He couldn't swat it with the swatter because it was in the corner like that. His plan was to knock it to the ground and step on it. But when he knocked it to the ground it backed into the corner and put up its dukes. All six of 'em. So Johnny turned the swatter around and poked it to death with the handle. My hero.

He grabbed a wad of toilet paper to pick up and flush the nasty corpse, but he'd poked it so completely into the crack between the baseboard and shower, that all he got on the TP wad was dukes. All six of 'em.

"Are you sure he's really dead, though?" I asked him. "Are you sure he didn't just tuck into the crack to save himself?"

"I'm sure," says Johnny.

"And if not, he's gonna have one hell of a limp."


Sandy & Michael said...

I'm very excited I won the contest, but when I saw the title of this post I was concerned that it was the ryhming problem that had finally done you in :)
If it helps, Michael never actually posts, but I felt like the blog should have both of our names since it's our house and he's been doing more of the work.

Oh, and I hate the USCIS (hope they're not reading this). It took Michael forever to get his green card. I have heard that (a) it's generally best to never miss an appointment even if they cancel it, and (b) if it's just biometrics, you can usually just go in the following week or whenever.

And thank goodness your mother provided you with a weapon to battle that insane spider with... I just hope it's not like a gerbil but with detachable legs that it is now regenerating.

Wow, this is almost as long as of my posts! That's enough of a comment from me! Looking forward to the poem.


EGE said...

I forgot you guys were canooks! Oh well, we already missed the appointment, so I guess we out of luck on that count.

I'll do the poem when I get home from work -- I've been having fun trying to think of what to do with "Sandy & Michael" but if I can't make it work I'll just do Sandy...

Mom pom said...

Flys.... I hate flys and all I have is the GD huge swatter I bought for Dad. The flys have 7million eye directions and I have yet to swat the darn flys that are now invading the cabin as it is getting too cold for them outside. And on Tuesday I was sorting and storing the seeds I have harvested from my flowers. Dad has a box of envelopes on his side table. I decided to use them fo store the seeds. When I took the first one out... It came along with a spider that looked much like the bathroom spider. Landed on my sweatshirt and I grabbed it and tossed it on the ground and stepped on it.... I have come a long way from my early days. But I still do not understand why Dad has to spray the spoders on the OUTSIDE of the windows. Especially when the spray smells like old ladies in church on Sunday.

Charlie said...

that picture of the spider was the best photo you have posted on the blog...
maybe you should always take pictures of spiders, your camera seems to like them

jen said...

I hope you guys get everything straightened out with the USCIS. Because, I love Irish Boys. I have a shirt that says so. I wear it all the time. I always do what my shirts tell me.
That spider has given me the heebie jeebies. I have to go wash now.
Are YOU from Mass. btw? In my head? You have a New Endland accent. And, this makes me very jealous, as that is the one accent I cannot mimic. Dang cool accents.
I'm just a lowly midwesterner. The grass is always greener...

EGE said...

Jen - why don't you ever put the link to your blog on the comments? Everybody needs to read your blog!

But anyway, yes, I am from Mass. But I don't actually have a Mass-cent. My mother (hi, Mommie Dearest!) beat it out of me when I was going to school in Woostah-hey. I now speak just like y'all mid-westerners, don'tcha know.

jen said...

I DO put it on there! I dont know why it doesnt show!
I dont know what Im doing wrong...I choose "other" put my name and my website in there. Hmmmm. What AM I doing wrong?

EGE said...

Huh. I don't know. When I put it in for you the other day, it worked -- so maybe you have to have a google account for it to work? I'm just guessing, but maybe it's the damn Man again...