All I want for Christmas
I always said that for as long as Lady L lives in Florida, I don’t need a dog of my own when George has enough cuteness to go around.
So now that she’s leaving, do I need a dog? Meh. Like the UEOEH needs one more reason to stay here.
I think she has amnesia. She forgets all the fights and tension and stress in the house, and texts me about going out to dinner. At a Mexican place. When I’m leaving for Mexico TOMORROW MORNING.
Not to mention, but I haven’t hung out with her since Easter, save for one trip up to Boston’s on the Avenue. She convinces herself I’m embarrassed of her. I’m embarrassed instead that 18-year-old kids can live on their own and I CAN’T.
Today she pitched all the leftovers in the fridge from when she made lasagna and a couple other types of pasta. Then she promptly said to her friend on the phone, “There’s nothing for me to eat here.”
Asshole.
It’s my fault, don’t’cha know, that there is nothing for her to eat at my house?
I left the rent check out. Maybe she will turn it in. I doubt it. I just want her to see how BIG it is — it’s four times what she was paying in Pittsburgh. To see that maybe she can, I don’t know, swing her own car insurance payment or toss in a few $20s for cable each month since she insists on living here.
One of my boys in Ohio said I should visit, if ever I’m in his ‘hood. Methinks it’s time to drive the UEOEH up there, drop her off at the cousin’s house, and fly my ass back alone.
And that, friends, is my Christmas wish. You wouldn’t want to disappoint a girl, would you now, Santa?