Someone who's made your life a living hell

I guess I'm supposed to say Aunt Elaine. The thing is though, as much as it fucking sucked, and it totally did, pretty much as soon as we left and got the smoke smell out of our stuff, our lives stopped being hell.

My nana was old. Old people die. It's like their job. Granted, she died earlier and much more suddenly than most old grandparents. Plus, her death was what killed Alex's voice and pushed her over the edge. It's like having your second mother die. Because that's really what she was. If my mother wasn't available to kiss a skinned knee, my grandma was always there to do it. She was simply the second parent who we happened to call Nana.

When Topher was joining the fire department, or applying to, my mom was not happy. They fought about it a lot. She didn't want him to have a job that involved dying. I vaguely remember something about the Navy surrounding this, so I'm thinking he told her it was either fire or water, and she chose fire because at least he'd be close to home. My class had a field trip one year to the fire station where we all sat in the trucks, rang the bell, all that fun stuff (they don't let kids slide down the pole on field trips). We got to ask questions like, "Will you really rescue a kitten if it gets stuck in a tree?" (yes they will), and "Do you ever spray someone with the water hose when you get mad at them?"

But nobody ever asked, "How often do one of you die?" When they talk to kids, firefighters stress that kids shouldn't hide during a fire, that they shouldn't play with matches, shouldn't use the stove or oven when home alone. They don't talk about being trapped in a burning building or how scared they are of dying.  If one of the four of us siblings had to die, it should have been me. Topher was the only boy. He was my mom's favorite. Hell, he was my favorite. Even Aunt Elaine liked him, and she hates everybody.

My mother's death has made my life a living hell. Sure, I'm less in shock than I was at this time nine years ago, but I definitely still miss her all the damn time, and I still bump into situations where I need her every day. So my mother's absence has made my life a living hell.

Didn't even have to use my AK

Yesterday I slept late. Went swimming at school with my sister. Shared a fruit smoothie on the way home. Talked to my boyfriend's friend's girlfriend, who was there when we got back from swimming. Tried to think of things to say when she cried that a friend dumped her.

I read part of a book. Played a board game with the other sister. Went to a fire family bbq and ate a lot of really good food. Got to listen to some Topher stories when two other fire families dropped by. Got off the train a stop early to walk off some of the food we ate. Sat outside waiting for - and then watching - the fireworks. On the way home stopped to get donuts. A block from our front door, found out we'd gotten three free munchkins.

Four for dinner

Last night I brought Josh to a fire family dinner. It was one of my favorite families (I feel like I say that about every family, but in general firefighters are really good people I guess) and they wanted to meet him. The whole thing was pretty comical from the start. Josh asked if he should dress up. Alex told him yes without turning around, but then looked at him and explained he was already dressed up. He comes from much more formal people than us.

Then we get there and everybody hugged Josh and smacked him on the back saying hello. At one point he leaned close and whispered "So informal!" to me. Yeah, well, welcome to Italians. During dinner they jokingly tried to talk Josh out of college to become a firefighter and then told him no, he's too weak to ever pass the tests. It was very loud and there was tons of food - nothing like dinners with Josh's family where there are a lot of stretches of silence while everyone is eating. There were almost always two or three conversations going on at once.

We left with a bag full of leftovers (we'll be eating meatballs for at least three days) and Josh said it was like a whole different side of me; a side that has a brother. That he always sees me as an older sister and last night he saw me as a little sister who is in awe of a big brother. That I almost never talk about my family and he hadn't seen them as a big part of me before. I told Josh I think about them all the time. All the time. Like every time I get dressed my mother would have said she could have made whatever I am wearing better. Every time I see a guy wearing an NYFD shirt my heart sinks a little. I don't think Josh gets it.

How sick WAS done

When I was little and my mom was alive, being sick meant eating Cheerios out of a bowl, dry. Eating saltines my mom would put grape jelly on. When you were sick you got this special washcloth to put on your head. Something special always happened. Once my mom painted a different color on each of my toes. You know how there's always that day or two where you feel well enough to be restless and bored of being home sick but not well enough to actually do anything? My mother would get us a sheet of stickers or a fancy coloring book or something.

Once when I was sick, my mom taught me to write in script. Another time she helped me take scraps of fabric and we made doll clothing for my dolls. When Danielle got sick one time my mother got her a character nightgown that she'd wanted for a couple of months.

When she had to really work, our nana would come up to fuss over us. She would make the soup, fuss at us to drink liquids, make us grape juice ice pops. I feel like there was more but I don't know how to explain. You know when stuff is hard and someone cups your face in their hand and you lean in? That's what my nana and mom did when we were sick. Made us feel like that.

Topher never took care of us when we were sick. Or healthy. My mother had this big thing about how we were HER responsibility and HER children and it was not our job to be little parents. So Topher would sneak us donuts and get us all riled up so we were laughing instead of resting.

I can't remember why but once Topher was left to babysit me while I was sick. My mother paid him so he would take it seriously. He taught me that you can drink Robitussen out of the bottle and then wouldn't have to dirty a spoon. The next day my mother saw me drinking out of the bottle and flipped out. Topher was never allowed to babysit when we were sick again and had to give back the money. My mom was really furious.

I drink out of the bottle now.

Best Thanksgiving since 2000

We didn't celebrate Thanksgiving in 2001. Aunt Elaine offered to get us turkey frozen microwave dinners and Danielle and I said no (Alex was on a talking strike at the time).

In 2000 my nana made Thanksgiving with my mother. Topher worked that morning and then brought two friends, a girl who let me play with her makeup, and a fire widow. My nana had some of her old people friends, and my mom had some random Russian girl (or somewhere in Eastern Europe) who had asked my mother for a job but settled for a friend in addition to some other random friends. Oh, and we had the Chinese guy who owned the corner store come too, because he didn't have anywhere else to go.

Topher said he would give Dani a dollar if she took the turkey out of the oven. She had the oven rack pulled out before somebody stopped her and yelled at him. Then Dani cried because she thought she wouldn't get her dollar.

Somebody brought Hawaiian biscuit things and Alex ate like four of them. We were allowed to eat pie the next day for breakfast. My nana wouldn't sit down until everyone had food on their plates.

This year we went to Josh's house. Alex made pumpkin cookies with me this morning to bring, and Danielle got flowers. Josh kept saying we didn't have to bring anything, but I don't think we could really walk in empty-handed.

We were sent home with some many leftovers that we won't be cooking any lunch or dinner until Monday, at the earliest.

Growing out of dinner

The thing with sisters - or maybe it's just my particular sisters - is they want to do everything together. If one of us doesn't want to go, it's enough to inspire the other two to not want to go either, and the whole plan falls apart. Sometimes it's great. You never have to do anything alone. Sometimes it's bad though because if something would be good for them and not me, if I don't go, then won't get the benefit of going because they want to stay with me.

I'm kind of over fire family dinners. For no reason, really. I just don't feel it anymore. Nobody tells me anything about Topher I don't know already. For a while hearing stories about what he was like at work hurt, and then for a long time it felt good like being wrapped in a verbal hug. Now it just makes me want him back.

I just don't want to go anymore.

10:21pm update: I went anyway. Don't know what was wrong with me this morning. Who else can walk into so many different homes and feel at home in almost all of them? It was a lot of fun. Was given a good recipe for meatballs. Got to play with a cat. Was taught how to use a fireplace. I'm really glad I went.

Actually no, you would not die

You would just want to if someone in your family died. My nana showed me that old people can will themselves to death but I don't think kids can. I tried really hard and it didn't work. 

I have been waiting for college forever. Or since September 12, 2001 when I had to listen to other kids talk about their parents.  This is the best part of college. Not having to deal with people living with their parents, not having to go to people's homes and run into their parents, all that. 

In 2002 9/11 was still a big deal. After that people were over it.  I mean, the people it didn't really directly impact.  We are pretty jaded here. So even the people who watched the towers fall (not on tv), even the people who had uncles or cousins or neighbors who died? Over it. I don't think anyone other than my assistant principal and a few friends at high school knew about my family, because I could tell nobody wanted to hear it. Nobody wants to have to respond to it. 

The majority of people at my college aren't living at home finally. It's a little weird to watch - some people act like they were just let out of a cage. I bet in the month of September there are more piercings and tattoos than in any other month. It's kind of funny what people will do just to see how it feels to do whatever they want without parents giving them a hard time. 

Except it's not so funny today, when I had to listen to people say the only reason they considered not going to a school in Manhattan was having to deal with 9/11 memorials and how they're probably going to have to listen to somebody's sob story about where they were that day, or that someone got asthma for a couple of months because of the collapse of the buildings.  

It wasn't so funny to listen to people ask "How hard is it to run down a few flights of stairs? Maybe they should have used the stairmaster more often." Yeah. Because my mom could afford a gym membership. My mom had time to go to a gym where her three daughters couldn't go, to work out. Why don't you go walk down 100 flights of stairs while it's dark and smoky and you're scared for your life? See how well you do.  It wasn't so funny to listen to the two girls today saying it'll be just their luck to joke about the deaths from 9/11 in front of some 9/11 widow. I almost tapped one of them on the shoulder and introduced myself. It wasn't so funny when they said it was so sad that hot firemen died. Yeah, because I really gave a shit that Topher was hot. Because his only like, worth, as a person, was thanks to his hotness.  

I guess it makes sense if something doesn't affect you maybe you don't want it shoved down your throat. There are 49 other states. Go to one of them if you don't want to deal with 9/11 memorials on the anniversary.  Even though you're a bitch I will give you a little hint. Jersey's probably going to be pretty heavy on the 9/11 stuff too. 

Lost and missing

I am officially finished with Josh being gone.  This is a sure thing because I found myself writing an embarrassingly mushy love letter to him, complete with multiple lines of "I miss you I miss you I miss you" and "Come back come back come back because I miss you so come back..."

Talking to him every few days for only a little while, especially when he has so much going on and I have so much going on is simply Not Enough.  Next week can not come fast enough for me.  Staying at your rock's house is not the same as actually being with the person who feels like your rock. 

Last night Danielle was on the phone with the fire family whose house we're supposed to go to this Sunday, and she handed it to me to confirm timing.  When I took the phone I could hear the wife saying to someone "You know, the girls who lost their mom and brother..." and it took every ounce of self-control not to hang up on her.  We did not LOSE our mother and Topher. They died. They were killed, because a bunch of terrorists thought the way to make the US stop being so flamboyant was to kill my family.  Yeah, I think of you every time my bra strap shows when I'm wearing a spaghetti strap tank top, fuckers.  My skirt doesn't even reach my knees, let alone cover my ankles.  I hope you see pictures of people like me, who dress like me, and it Makes. You. Twitch. 

Saying my family is lost is like an insult to me.  Lost is what happens when you get turned around in a mall.  Lost is how it feels when you go to check out a college campus.  Like you think Topher will just look around, get his bearings and walk home.  They're not lost, they're dead. If you can't deal with that, don't have us over for dinner.  If the people whose house we're going to for dinner Sunday didn't have two cats that Danielle really likes, I probably would have said something.  It's been a long week, and I've run out of politeness.

Self Defense

Topher always told me that if anyone ever gave me a hard time I should kick them in the balls and run. That's what he taught Danielle too. So that's what we've taught Alex.

When it seems safe we try to make Alex go places by herself. Like to school. You can't be in 7th grade and always need somebody with you. Getting in and out of our apartment isn't too safe and walking to the corner store isn't either. Most everything else is pretty okay. But especially since Alex got jumped she's been scared and always wants someone with her.

Today when I was finishing work Alex showed up. Danielle had sent her a little early though so I told Alex to go to the drugstore to pick up cough medicine. I left the diner before Alex had gotten back so I walked towards the drugstore.

She was standing on the sidewalk talking to a guy about ten feet away. I kept walking until I could hear what they were saying. He was saying really gross things to Alex and blocking the sidewalk so she couldn't walk past him. There were too many cars parked for her to step into the gutter.

I watched from across the street. The more he talked, the more Alex blushed. Finally I heard her say really forcefully, "If you don't stop it, I'm going to have to kick you in the balls." The guy stared at her and then started laughing. He leaned against the fence and bent over holding his stomach laughing so hard. Alex ran past him and then she saw me.

"What was so funny? I totally was getting ready to kick him in the balls!"

Oh Naps, How I Miss Thee

Today I did not get to take a nap and it was a school AND work day. Oh also a heavy homework day. Tonight bedtime will come early and guess who will be in bed before 1 a.m.? Moi.

You know what stinks about missing school because you're sick? When you go back your teachers think you're back to 100% and expect all the work to be done. Like your first day back you should be handing in all the work. Then when you ask for more of an extension they all go, "What the hell have you been so busy doing the last two weeks?" Well, I was busy being sick, and trying to breathe, and sleeping.

In the past sometimes when I've been sick Josh has had me come over and sleep at his house. I sleep better there - it's so much quieter and the air is so much cleaner and the bed is like laying on a cloud. He didn't offer this time and of course I didn't ask.

My mom never liked baby talk so we never did it. One time I came home from school to find Topher laying on my bed fully dressed. I stood in the doorway looking at him until he looked back at me. "I tie-tie." I nodded and closed the bedroom door to let him sleep. He had other baby words he used with me but I can't remember them anymore.

Emergencies

One of the good things about having older siblings is all the stuff you can learn. Not only is there all the stuff they teach you but there's also the stuff you just randomly pick up. Like you didn't sit down and try to learn it, but you just realize one day you know that, and where you must have gotten it from. Everything I know about first aid comes from Topher. In seventh grade science when we were going to start using bunson burners for experiments, I knew when my teacher left out something. While everyone else wanted lab partners who were good at science I wanted kids who wouldn't explore their pyro side and play with the fire.

A girl's bangs caught on fire in that class.

I don't know what my point is about all this. Sometimes I worry that I will become one of those crazy people who sets fires just so firemen will come because I like them.

Mine Ours

For years on tomorrow we always cut school and just leave and go wherever we feel like. Because it's our day. I have never been to the memorial. Because I'm scared I'd kill the tourists.

I hate the tourists. I know it was an attack on OUR country. But if you don't live in New York (or PA), it really didn't happen to you. It just didn't. Not like it did to me. You didn't watch YOUR city falling down. It's not yours to be sad about. I don't want to see some bitch from Montana with a camera and a sweatervest crying.

And don't tell me it did happen to you because your relative joined the Army because of it. People ask if I'm for the war since it was started after 9/11. No. Enough people died. Why don't we fix our own country before we go fucking up other countries?

So tomorrow we are going somewhere. It won't be to school, and I don't care.

My grandmother always smelled like good food and love.
My brother always smelled like leather and cologne and fall.
My mother always smelled like ... mommy. And Ahava. And flowers.

You Are Not Welcome Here

Alex has never watched 9/11 footage. When some of Topher's fire guys came over to talk to us that day it was on the news and one of them took her out of the room and said she didn't need to be seeing that. Al stopped talking that day and it took months for her to talk again.

In school one time this boy asked what the point was of like learning all this boring history. Our teacher said so we're not doomed to repeat it. I guess the point is to remember forever. The three of us won't ever forget so we don't need to watch 9/11 footage and reinactments.

I expect a lot of documentaries around September 11th. People are really into anniversaries. We kind of avoid tv then. I didn't expect one today. But after dinner we realized what Aunt Elaine was watching - some show all about it. With people who were there and actors pretending to be them in burning highrise buildings. With a firefighter walking down a smoky hallway. I don't want to see people in business suits covering their mouths. I don't want to see clouds of smoke rolling down the streets covering people.

I felt chills go up and down my body. Danielle asked Aunt Elaine to put on something else. She wouldn't. She's such a bitch. We can hear the tv from our room, even with the door closed. So we left. Alex had some money with her and we got an ice cream to share. Danielle went up at 10pm to see if it was over, but it wasn't.

We went into a corner store and read magazines until they kicked us out. We went to a pizza place and hung out for a while. There was a boy there I kind of recognized with his friends and we talked with them. Then we got kicked out for being too loud even though we weren't really that loud.

I waited until ten minutes until 11 and then told Danielle we should go home - by the time we got there and were ready for bed it had to be over. I was right.

There should be warnings or something if they're going to do 9/11 stuff ahead of time. We could have gone into the city for the night or something.

When It's Good, It's Very Very Good

The awful thing about having dead family members is that people outside the family can never handle it when you bring them up. They freeze, scared that you'll cry or freak out on them. It's very frustrating. Aunt Elaine doesn't want to hear about our mom or grandmother so we can't talk about them in front of her. Alex doesn't really remember Topher - he'd moved out before she was born, and barely remembers our mom and grandmother. Some of what she says she remembers, maybe she just remembers hearing stories for the last several years.

When we go to fire family dinners it's the best thing, because it's always somebody who worked with Topher. They will sit there and tell us story after story, and I never care if we've heard it before. They never worry about making us cry, and if something accidentally does, it's okay and not weird.

Hearing about how Topher was with people at work is great and awful at the same time. It makes me miss him more and feel closer to him. If he could come back to life, I'd love it, even though I'm sure he'd give me shit about a lot of things.

Like the weed.
Like Dani's stealing.
Like the wife-beaters.
Like the mild skull obsession.
Like the whole Tristan thing.
He wouldn't mind Josh I don't think.

Home-RRRRRRR

Yeah I know, it's a stretch. I'm desperate here though. Somebody leave me a comment on how to write about home. I gotta do the whole rest of the month.

Yeah so Homer. Like Homer Simpson? I was not allowed to watch the simpsons for the longest time. My mother thought it would be a bad influence and she didn't want my sisters seeing it either.

Topher used to sneak and let me watch sometimes and so would my grandmother. "I'm going to visit grandma!" and we'd run downstairs, yell hi to her, and flip on the tv.

Weekends and summers were when cartoons were allowed. That's why it was good to live so close to a grandma who believed in spoiling little kids.

Home - Food

In Italian families, once a week the family eats a big dinner together. Sundays. Sometimes Tuesdays too. In my family it was always every night. Topher wasn't always there once he moved out, but he often stopped by for dessert and to take leftovers home. My grandma got angry he wouldn't stay but it was that fake angry old people do.

My mother always set the table ahead of time for meals. Part of cleaning up from dinner was setting the table for breakfast. Part of cleaning up from after-school-snack was setting the table for dinner. The flowers got moved to the bookcase to make room on the table for all the food.

My grandma had a completely packed refrigerator at all times. Even though she was only one person. I remember asking her why it was so full, and who ate all the food, but can't remember her answer. You were never supposed to screw around in her kitchen. If you wanted anything you were to ask for it, and she would get it for you. This might take a few minutes while she moved dishes around in there, but it was always worth the wait.

You know those grandmas on tv who always let you taste from the stirring spoon whatever was being cooked in the big pot on the stove? Not my grandma. She kept a tasting spoon next to the stirring spoon for curious little girls.

Oh! And she had this way of talking you into doing things that ordinarily would not be things you wanted to do, like drying dishes or washing the table, but when my grandma asked, she somehow made you feel honored. I wish I remembered how she'd phrase it - it was like magic. Danielle and I used to beg to be allowed to help.

Back and Forth

As always the tv is on. Some reality tv show where cameras are in an emergency room in the South Bronx, here. We watch the sirens on tv and listen to them outside at the same time. There was a fancy rice on sale over the weekend so we got it and Alex followed the directions tonight and we ate it and it was good.

My nightlight was a purple pig and it got turned on before the big light got turned off. The door was left open the width of a hand sideways. You'd think I wouldn't have been able to fall asleep hearing the noise down the hallway, but the laughter and talks lulled me to sleep every time.

Dani is the future doctor who can't stand the sight of blood. The tv show has a guy whose cheek got sliced open in a fight, and she freaks out. There's only a tiny bit of fancy rice left, in a faux Tupperware for whoever gets to it first tomorrow.

The door creaked open and a body stands in the doorway, blocking most of the light from the hallway. I pretend to be asleep, but am excited to smell the leather jacket combined with Eternity. Because it only means one thing - Topher. I roll onto my belly and wait.

Alex doesn't cry anymore when it's her night to cook dinner. She begs us to stay in the kitchen and keep her company, talk with her. It's a trick - she just hopes we'll wind up helping her. Sneaky little shit.

Topher grabs the covers near my feet and throws them up in the air, letting them settle without wrinkles. He sits down next to me and rubs my back while we talk. My grandma, who I spent the most time with in those days, always talked to me like a little kid. But not Topher. He would tell me all his grownup stuff. Things involving changing the oil on his friend's car, liking a girl who was flirting with someone else, how many donuts he ate that day.

Aunt Elaine always bitches about our dinners - she has since we got here and tried to explain what we eat. I'm surprised her eyes havent' fallen out of her head from all the heavy duty rolling. She eats whatever we make and also has a snack while dinner is being cooked. And after. And into the night. And bitches at us about how we cost her way too much money in food.

When I was first learning to read, Topher would draw letters on my back with his finger for me to guess. When I got better he promoted me to words. Sometimes Topher would come over just to say good night to me. I felt special and even now if somebody rubs my back it relaxes me really fast and puts me to sleep.

When Dani passed a pair of shoes down to Alex and she got bad blisters, Al came complaining. Danielle sat down today after school to inspect, and pronounced blisters, but wouldn't fix. That was my job. Alex sat on the bathroom counter while I fixed her foot up, trying on all my lipsticks.

During summers Topher would come in late at night and whisper to me. "Did you already brush your teeth?" The right answer was no. Saying yes would just get me a kiss with a "Good girl" and he'd go back out. Saying no meant a piggyback ride out to the front stoop, where italian ices would be passed around and the big girls would french braid my hair and tell me how cute I was.

Tonight Alex asked me when she can have her own lipstick. I don't know. Maybe next time I have extra money I'll get her flavored lip gloss once the summer starts. Sixth grade is totally old enough. Besides, I don't want her stealing mine.

My mom would stand in the door and pretend to be angry that I was up and out of bed so late at night. But it was an act; like she was just following the mom manual. "Five more minutes and then back to bed," she'd say frowning. But she wouldn't come back for twenty minutes. Later, when Topher had tucked me back in, my mother would come check on me, compliment my hair and ask if I had fun with the big kids. And I always did.

Dinner

We have this rotating schedule of whose house we go to each Sunday night. At least one of the people there is, or was, a firefighter. That's the only constant.

I think some people think they HAVE to play the role of parent. Even though we're connected to the fire department through Topher, nobody ever acts like an older brother. Always a parent.

The dinners I like best are the ones where they just talk regularly to us. Because some people are over-nice and talk to us like at any moment we might burst into tears. They tiptoe around anything that has to do with death or fires or mothers or anything. This is mean but it gets tiring reassuring people all the time.

Then there are other people who decide we lack structure and decide to teach us manners. No matter what we do or how nicely we behave, they will always make us feel like we're wild and one second away from blowing up. We could be all please and thank you and napkins in lap and no elbows on the table and no talking with food in our mouths and they'll still tell Danielle to sit up straight.

I like the people who've known Topher and us for a long time. Who just let us be, who teach us blackjack before dinner, who let Alex cut things with sharp knives, show us pictures of them from high school, and just ... make us feel like we're at home. Instead of making us feel like we can't wait to get back home.

I like the Italians best, even though it's wrong to say that. Where we walk in and it smells like our grandma's house, where everyone is loud and yelling and we're encouraged to be loud and yell also. Not like going to Irish people's homes, where they want us to drink milk with dinner and push us to go to church.

Tonight Alex helped make chicken parm, real garlic bread, salad, and homemade ice cream. She had a birthday party in the afternoon that was nearby the fire family for tonight, so they picked her up from the party and Dani and I went over later.

On the way to the train home, Alex said it dinner was really easy to make and asked me to buy chicken so she can make it again. We aren't going to do homemade ice cream obviously, but maybe we can get italian ices instead if I can save enough.

Moved

We have moved, and we are not happy. Our old apartment was too expensive and I sort of knew this was coming, but I thought since it didn't happen this summer it wouldn't happen at least until next summer. And I thought we'd get to look at different apartments and choose. Not that Aunt Elaine would just choose for all of us.

So now we've moved from one crappy section of the South Bronx to a differently crappy section of the South Bronx. I miss our crackwhores. We've got less crackwhores here, but more drug deals and fighting, it seems. I never felt like our crackwhores were dangerous. To each other they maybe are, but not to us. To us they've always been really nice. The drug dealers seem more aggressive, and I think we have different ideas of personal space because I keep feeling like they get all up in mine. Dani and I had agreed just this year that Alex could start coming home from school by herself, but now that we moved she can't. Alex doesn't mind because she's scared to walk past the older boys who stand near the doors anyway.

Our new bedroom is smaller than the old one and that one was too small. So right now our dresser is in the hallway. Which Aunt Elaine doesn't like because there's barely room to get by, even for me, and she's like four of me put together. So Dani, who must have been smoking crack to have the balls to say this, suggested to Aunt Elaine that she give us her bedroom, since it's bigger, and we're more people. When I went to bed last night Dani said her cheek still stung from the slap. I feel bad for her, not so much that it hurts, but more because Aunt Elaine said she slapped Dani for being disrespectful since she's the adult, she should get the bigger bedroom, but I don't think Dani was really being fresh, just offering up a solution to a way we could get the dresser out of the hallway.

Our beds leave us with almost no floorspace at all, so there's really no room for the dresser. The three of us could probably fit on two mattresses, but I feel like if we start sleeping like we're in a third world country it'll be like a slippery slope down to cooking the cockroaches for dinner. The way it is now is a fire hazard, and Topher would not be happy at all. I tried making a horseshoe like Craig did for us this summer, but the beds don't lay flat that way. Plus then we'd have to put the dresser in the middle of the horseshoe, which would mean one of us would have to be sleeping behind the dresser and nobody wants to, which means I'd have to. We don't have the hall closet like we did in the old apartment anymore either, so Aunt Elaine had me put all that stuff on the floor of our closet. So now our Mommy boxes don't fit. So they're on top of the dresser in the hallway, which looks really ugly. Plus we don't have anywhere to put all the stuff we'd been keeping on top of our dresser. If we put that stuff on top of the boxes, Alex can't reach.

I did something really mean and told Alex she had to get rid of all her old magazines. We don't have the room anymore. Alex cried and said she wanted to collect all the magazines with their holiday stuff for this season. Sorry. But then she decided to send them to San Diego for the kids staying at that football stadium to have something to do. Dani said that's a dumb idea, that it'll make people feel bad to look at magazines full of stuff that they maybe used to have but burned, but Alex said kids would like it. They kept arguing about it but I walked out, so I don't know what happened after that.

I want to go to a fabric store and get pretty colors of fabric and cover our Mommy boxes with that. If they're going to be out all the time, I want them to look pretty. Dani said we should just draw on them but I think that'll just make them look old. She must be so upset with herself for dying and leaving us like this. I am so positive this is not how she meant for us to be living at all.

All my rules for getting a job are over. I don't even care if I have to wear a polyester uniform - wait, yes I do who the hell am I kidding. Okay, I don't care if … well I still have all the same rules. No, okay, a uniform is okay with me, as long as it's not polyester. But I really need to step up the job search. Because I don't think Danielle and Alex would ever forgive me if I graduated from high school and didn't move them out of here. I probably wouldn't forgive myself.

More Interviewing

I had so much fun with the last one, that I'm doing another interview thingie, this time from The Wee Dragon. Which I read as The Weed Wagon the first time I saw her blog. So far, her blog has nothing about weed though.

If you want me to interview you, here's how it works:
1. Leave me a comment saying "Interview Me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with a post containing your the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

1. I'm not sure if school has started there yet (it has here) but if it hasn't, what is one thing you most look forward to about going back to school? Or if it has, what did you look forward to most?
School starts after Labor Day. Hanging out with friends.

2. What is your best memory of this summer? Your worst?
Fridays are my best memory because that's when I get paid. And when my sister came home from her vacation. I don't have a worst memory of the summer.

3. If you could say one thing to your Aunt Elaine and have her really listen to you without sarcastic comments or judgment, what would it be?
Nothing. Her listening would mean nothing anyway.

4. What are your plans regarding Dani and Alex when you turn 18?
I don't know. I mean, I'll know before I'm 18, but whatever happens is either going to happen this year after I turn 16 or when I graduate from high school when I'm 17. Josh's dad and I had a long talk about it and he said that even though I'd probably be able to make a case for being emancipated, to get custody of Alex and Danielle would be a problem.

5. What are your favorite memories of your mom and Christopher?
My mom, everything. Her clothes, her smile, the way she smelled, that she had so many friends and knew people everywhere we went, how she always knew exactly what the right answer was to everything, how happy she always was, everything. With Topher, I miss the girlie files. We used to have a spiral notebook on the counter where we'd write down anything that we were "too girly" to do. Like change a lightbulb on the ceiling or fix under the sink or move something heavy or whatever. Every time he came over, he had to do whatever we had on the list, but Topher would always teach us how to do the stuff, like that you take all the drawers out of a dresser so it's less heavy.