fuzzy

i've moved into my new place. it's been since july 7th that i've been living here. it's now 8 days later and i still am living among boxes. i realize i have way more stuff than i have room for. some purging is in order.

at the same time, i'm trying to help my dad clean up and sell his house. my mom and i were over today and she was just like she was when she lived with us - demanding, impatient and generally an unbearable bitch. my dad was hiding upstairs while she scrubbed every nook and cranny of the house. she was there yesterday too, cleaning because it's not like my dad's been breaking his back clearing out stuff for the past couple of weeks, if not the past few months. nope, the three of us are useless when it comes to cleaning and only she can do a good job. if she doesn't clean it properly (because we can't), the house won't sell. for my dad's sake, i hope someone makes an offer tomorrow and it sells sooner than later. then he can finally get on with life. i asked him to take a look at a place about three blocks from my place and he said, "no, i want to live as far away from your mother as possible." oy. she is difficult, i'll admit that much but he's such a big sulky baby sometimes. i want to hit them both, actually.

i've hooked up my new Bose speakers to myPod. i'm in heaven.

my mom wants me to drive her to the house again tomorrow...because i haven't spent every single day there this week clearing out my stuff in anticipation for the open house tomorrow. of course, she needs to clean more. we spent the whole f-ing day cleaning today. and the day before she was there cleaning. meanwhile, i'm still living in boxes because i've spent most of my week either at the house clearing up my stuff that's still there or at work. but that's not important, right? i'd be selfish to want a life of my own now that i live on my own. fuck this filipino guilt culture shit. i'm not being selfish for wanting my own life. but i know i'll be guilted into feeling that way if i say no to helping out. fuck fuck fuck. that was my mantra all day today. fuck fuck fuck. fuck fuck fuck. fuck this shit. fuck.

and they said i'd be happier living on my own. there is no such thing as having a separate life when you are owned financially by a mother like mine.

on a slightly happier note, my OC bought me a box of chocolates yesterday. he's so weird. at one point, he e-mailed me and said he had a box of truffles so i e-mailed back and said, "trade you a piece of fudge for a truffle." he mails me back and says, "you should negotiate harder." like, what is that supposed to mean? so, I mail him back and say, "like what? a piece of fudge and i'll wash your car? a piece of fudge and a movie? a piece of fudge and a kick in the ass?" notice i stuck the movie part in the middle? instead of responding to the subtle movie invite, he came by my desk and gave me some of his chocolate. sigh. maybe it is the work thing. or maybe (let's say it all together, girls), "He's Just Not that Into You!"

i was at Wal-Mart this evening, doing a little bit of house shopping. there was a cute guy that drove by me with his buggy. he kind of smiled at me and looked in my cart. i didn't really know what to think and of course, because i didn't know what to think, i didn't think to smile at him like i've been meaning to start doing. was he just nosy, looking into my cart or was he checking out what was in my cart to determine whether i was single? in eyesight was a can of soup, some nacho chips and paper towels. as it was closing time when i saw him, i was hoping i'd spot him in a lineup and redeem myself but no such luck. so, it was two carts passing in the Wal-Mart night. sigh.