"He'd have to be gay to not notice."

Today, wore a white DeVry Phoenix shirt. If it had ever been unclear that I was female, with breasts, it has been made exceptionally notable.

Darkside noticed and commented on the color of the shirt and the fact that my hair's in two braids rather than one knot or ponytail.

Blah.

Too much drama.

April Fool.

V pulled a rather nasty April Fool on Adam. By the gods, woman, it is just not right to April Fool your fuckbuddy that you're pregnant...!

Like mother, like daughter

That Woman is sucking up to Votania again. A quick refresher course on the Capulet family:

Great-grandma (carries the bitchiness gene on the female side of the family)
Grandma (daughter of Great Grandma) and Grandpa (he's pretty cool)
daughters Votania and That Woman
Votania's son Nephew; That Woman's daughters Jewel, Jade, and Krystal

Whenever That Woman sucks up to Votania, it's because she wants to get something out of Votania, beg money from her, or get close enough so stuff starts disappearing. We're wondering what's the deal now. That Woman has a job, as a cocktail waitress (bad jokes on that theme already abound, don't worry) so money is not her current issue. She's wanting to give Votania some of the stuff that's turning up in their moving into their new house, so it's doubtful that Votania's stuff is going to be disappearing.

It is possible that That Woman will want Votania to smudge the new house. This despite her being Christian and totally and utterly against all that kind of thing. That Woman is an exceptionally slovenly housekeeper and gives off mondo bad vibes. I hold my own housekeeping up in shining counterexample to That Woman's, and given that it becomes difficult to see the floor if I haven't been motivated to pick up, I would say that's pretty bad. At least I manage to throw out garbage semi-regularly, give the counters a wipe-down every once in a while, do laundry, do dishes, pick up stuff and put it away where it belongs, throw out empty bottles, throw out potato crisp packets, pay bills, toss away junk mail, scrub floor, vacuum floor, et cetera, every once in a while.

Votania is trying to figure out a way to utterly alienate That Woman without getting on the nerves of the rest of the clan. That Woman hates rap music with a passion, despises those not of her own race (that is to say, despises everyone who isn't white), hates country, and is as religiously sensitive as only a true hypocrite can be.

Yes, this is far more hate-filled a post than my usual laidback entries. I'm not entirely cool with people who try to kill my friends. Kicking a pregnant woman with nowhere to go, out on the street, in an Arizona summer, is a severe act of violence. That was one of the lesser attempts.

Some of Votania's family, although intolerable at close range for any decent length of time, have their redeeming points. Some of them are decent people. That Woman is neither of those. Her only saving grace would be her children.

There was a tune.

Every now and then, I sing songs in the shower. Lonely songs, often; my mind hears them as filled with sweet sad beauty.

I seem to write in minors. I can hear that tune in my head. Pity I can't write music. With a piano and a pitchfork (the tuning variety) I can puzzle out the notes, but the timing escapes me.

It would serve me well to poke into some of those happy computer programs for music editing.