Moving into the Mansion
It was a 'make Kira's ego' three day journey as the head moving guy hit on me (apparently he loves redheads), a man hung out of his car and howled at me when I was walking back from a store with my niece and nephew (my niece couldn't stop laughing because I flipped him off and screamed, kiss my ass!), and then I got spoken to outside of Charlotte when I was driving back. This was just one of those men I will remember for a long time because of HOW he phrased his compliment. He saw me pumping gas and in a really thick Southern drawl said, "You ain't from aroun' here, are ya?" I replied no, I wasn't. He grinned at me and said, "I knew you couldn't be from aroun' here 'cause there ain't nothing as purty as YOU in THIS town!" HAHAHAHA! I thanked him politely and tried not to laugh. He told me to have a great day and then walked off.
In all honesty, I haven't been howled at or hit on by guys in a while, so...even though I'm happily with Alex...I guess it felt good. I mean, I have felt far less than attractive since I gained some weight due to the pill, plus I've been rather moody lately anyway. I thought about it on the way home, and I realized: yeah, I guess I needed that. Thanks, random hormonal men who probably hit on all women but still managed to make me feel hot! haha!
I'm really glad I went to help out my brother and his wife and family. Ken was on a business trip on Tuesday night and didn't get back until Wednesday, and Deb couldn't get out of a business meeting Wednesday morning. But that was when the movers were due over at the old house, and she also had two deliveries come in Wednesday morning at the new house. I had to let the movers into the old house, tell them what they needed to know, then drive over rapidly to the new house and be there for the deliveries to arrive. Deb thrust money in my hand for breakfast since she had to leave early and there was nothing in the old house to eat. There's a Starbucks at the corner of the new subdivision, and so I stopped in there and grabbed a lemonade and a chocolate/cream cheese muffin. DAMN that muffin was GOOD! I ended up in the mood for the lemonade because Deb had me try out this fantastic liquor called Limoncello (she had brought this particular bottle back from Italy) the night before, and WOW! I fell in love with the stuff! I have decided that this stuff is so good I would prostitute myself for it...haha! Seriously, it's like the best lemonade you have ever had with a KICK!
I was mad at my brother for part of the trip. Deb and I had to sort through a box of old cards to see if any of them should be kept as keepsakes or memories. My brother has been divorced for I dunno, 7 years now, and he's never bothered to sort through this box. She got to read all sorts of lovey cards from him to his first wife, or vice versa. I was just so PISSED at him for being so MALE and not thinking about how that could hurt Deb's feelings or make her feel crappy! She's so nice too, and she just was tossing them in the trash without comment. I would then pull them BACK out, rip them up into 13 pieces, and then smile sweetly at her and say, "Better." She laughed.
Ken and I are the family rejects for getting a divorce. On both sides of the family, there have been only four divorces (remember, they're all Catholic...kids everywhere and so it's a really amazing statistic). We get to 'claim' two, much to my parent's dismay. It does mean that Ken is a bit more understanding of some of what I've gone through than my other brother or my sister can understand. Anyway, because the ex wife also just up and moved out suddenly, she left behind lots of her shit in the attic. And in seven or so years, Ken can't ditch it? WHY does Deb have to deal with it?
Deb told me that their old wedding album was out too, and she politely told Ken that she wanted that boxed up and kept for his daughter and son, but that she just didn't want it displayed. Very reasonable. But then I got to thinking that MY old wedding album is just sitting there in a stack of albums, and I asked her if she thought I should do the same for Alex. We decided I should do that sometime: just box it up and put it in Ari's closet so she has it for later on. Poor Alex already gets to hear way too much about the ex. Might as well make a few things easier on him.
The new house is GORGEOUS! Three stories, lots of high ceilings and moldings and unique light fixtures....my brother has turned one room into what he calls The Man Room. The Man Room uses its built in curios to display sports memorabilia. It has a 50" TV. It has a huge home theatre system. One of the coolest things about the man room is that you can flip back a secret compartment, slide one of the bookshelves out (like in an old haunted house!), and bam, there's a room behind it! It's just a small room where the water heater and the cannister for the central vac system resides, but damn does that bring a whole new dimension to playing hide and seek! haha!
The house has a kitchen I'd die for (except it's white...harder to keep clean). Corian counters, tons of cabinet spaces, kitchen island, kitchen desk, place for cookbooks, great stovetop and oven, etc. Nice walk in pantry too!
My brother and Deb are typical people from my family in their level of generosity. I tease my friend Shana--a diehard democrat from a long line of democrats--that if all republicans were like my family, she'd be one too. Shana laughs, but she sees my point. My family believes strongly in noblesse oblige, that is, the responsibility of the rich to take care of the rest of the world. My family just believes it's not the GOVERNMENT'S job to do so, is all. So, my wealthy relatives are constantly donating money to this or that cause and doing volunteer work. I was raised being dragged to a school of the deaf and to a children's cancer clinic when I was younger because that's what my mom did with some of her spare time. My parents currently do Meals On Wheels and have done so for over a decade. My brother Ken pays extra for his maid service because this one company provides health insurance for their staff, and Ken considers it criminal to make a person work full time hours and not get health insurance for it. He once told me, if you can afford a maid, you can sure as hell swing another $10 or $20 a month onto the cost of having her come out there so she has health insurance, damnit. I watched this idea in action once again when the movers came. Before Deb left for work, she told me, "Make sure they get whatever bottled water they want, I bought all of that for them so they wouldn't get dehydrated. And if I'm not back by lunch, give them this," and she handed me a wad of bills, "because I always pay for the movers' lunch. They don't get paid enough as it is, and they need to have a decent lunch. It's the least I can do," she tells me before taking off. Believe me, she left me enough for them to go sit down at Red Lobster for lunch--not for them to all be able to hit up McDonald's. Most folks just would think: I'm paying them hundreds of dollars to move things. Suck it up. But nope, not Ken and Deb! I totally admire that.
And of course I realized that Ken would probably hand me money even though it wasn't discussed. I had to steel myself for this on the ride up. I figured he'd probably hand me $200 or $300. I calculated how much it took me in gas to drive up and then food and such, wear and tear on my car, whatever, and just kept repeating to myself: it's ok, take the damn money, you can use the extra $100 or $200 because this summer things are tight. I am LOUSY at accepting help. I rarely ask for it. Damnit, *I* want to be wealthy and giving my money to everybody. I don't want to be the poor one who has to accept aid *cries*.
So, he walks in my bedroom, tosses a check onto my chest and walks over to the blinds, "These need to be shut or you'll wake up too early," he tells me in a neutral tone, and as he goes over to shut them I realize he's just handed me two THOUSAND dollars, not two HUNDRED. So then the Dance starts, and Ken knows me well enough to have expected it fully. He also knows how to handle it by now.
Kira: I can't take this. It's too much. (hands it back to him, which he refuses)
Ken: Come on, you're broke this summer and this way I don't worry.
Kira: It's too much, I can take something but I can't take THIS much!
Ken: Shut up and take it, Kira.
Kira: No, Ken, I just can't, that's two thousand dollars, that's way too much...
Ken: Kira. Listen to me. Shut up and take the damn money! I just got a commission check that was for about what a person earns in FIVE YEARS, and that's not even for my whole year. Take the damn check and shut up!
Kira: (bursts into tears) Ok.
So, that's that. I had already mapped out the summer expenses so I could make it, and now I'm really ok. I may even go to the dermatologist like I need to for my hand! I have a periodic problem with my skin on my right hand needing a steroid cream (long story), but I've put it off for a while now due to finances. I guess I don't have an excuse now!
I got to see Joe on the way out of town. We had lunch at this great restaurant called Pops. That's actually where Joe LIVES, it seems, as everybody knows Joe there by name and jokes around with him. The food was fantastic!!! It's Italian, and that was the best damned calamari I've ever had. I got a little too enthusiastic with the eating and found half of one down my cleavage later on...hahahaha!
Joe is great at snuggling but he is a lousy ass grabber. Apparently, my friend Terry (who was unable to join us for lunch) told Joe to give me a hug and grab my ass. That's usually how Terry says hello, good bye, how are you, or whatever to me and has for years. If I recall correctly, he even does this to me around his wife and she doesn't blink. It's just Terry. Joe, however, was a bit nervous about fulfilling this aspect of Terry's request. I even turned around and TOLD Joe, it's ok, just grab it. He reached out and gave this wimpy, tentative pat. HAHAHAHA! Poor Joe :) It's a BIG target, Joe, how can you miss? So, Terry (who reads this blog but never comments)...you still owe me an ass grab.
Can anybody tell I'm a natural flirt? I'm really glad that Alex is amused by this side of me and loves it. He knows I'm his at the end of the day, and so little else matters to him. Gotta love it when you can be yourself and still adored!
Anyway, that was my trip. It's good to be home, but I had a great time. I like to feel needed. I helped them move; I helped Deb by talking to her about a few things about the family history that she really needed to know to figure out what was going off with some other issues; and I helped my niece a lot by guiding her through some difficulties. Kira's portable shoulder to lean on and moving service! I have to say, if the pay were always that good, I'd quit teaching and do THIS for a living! haha!
In all honesty, I haven't been howled at or hit on by guys in a while, so...even though I'm happily with Alex...I guess it felt good. I mean, I have felt far less than attractive since I gained some weight due to the pill, plus I've been rather moody lately anyway. I thought about it on the way home, and I realized: yeah, I guess I needed that. Thanks, random hormonal men who probably hit on all women but still managed to make me feel hot! haha!
I'm really glad I went to help out my brother and his wife and family. Ken was on a business trip on Tuesday night and didn't get back until Wednesday, and Deb couldn't get out of a business meeting Wednesday morning. But that was when the movers were due over at the old house, and she also had two deliveries come in Wednesday morning at the new house. I had to let the movers into the old house, tell them what they needed to know, then drive over rapidly to the new house and be there for the deliveries to arrive. Deb thrust money in my hand for breakfast since she had to leave early and there was nothing in the old house to eat. There's a Starbucks at the corner of the new subdivision, and so I stopped in there and grabbed a lemonade and a chocolate/cream cheese muffin. DAMN that muffin was GOOD! I ended up in the mood for the lemonade because Deb had me try out this fantastic liquor called Limoncello (she had brought this particular bottle back from Italy) the night before, and WOW! I fell in love with the stuff! I have decided that this stuff is so good I would prostitute myself for it...haha! Seriously, it's like the best lemonade you have ever had with a KICK!
I was mad at my brother for part of the trip. Deb and I had to sort through a box of old cards to see if any of them should be kept as keepsakes or memories. My brother has been divorced for I dunno, 7 years now, and he's never bothered to sort through this box. She got to read all sorts of lovey cards from him to his first wife, or vice versa. I was just so PISSED at him for being so MALE and not thinking about how that could hurt Deb's feelings or make her feel crappy! She's so nice too, and she just was tossing them in the trash without comment. I would then pull them BACK out, rip them up into 13 pieces, and then smile sweetly at her and say, "Better." She laughed.
Ken and I are the family rejects for getting a divorce. On both sides of the family, there have been only four divorces (remember, they're all Catholic...kids everywhere and so it's a really amazing statistic). We get to 'claim' two, much to my parent's dismay. It does mean that Ken is a bit more understanding of some of what I've gone through than my other brother or my sister can understand. Anyway, because the ex wife also just up and moved out suddenly, she left behind lots of her shit in the attic. And in seven or so years, Ken can't ditch it? WHY does Deb have to deal with it?
Deb told me that their old wedding album was out too, and she politely told Ken that she wanted that boxed up and kept for his daughter and son, but that she just didn't want it displayed. Very reasonable. But then I got to thinking that MY old wedding album is just sitting there in a stack of albums, and I asked her if she thought I should do the same for Alex. We decided I should do that sometime: just box it up and put it in Ari's closet so she has it for later on. Poor Alex already gets to hear way too much about the ex. Might as well make a few things easier on him.
The new house is GORGEOUS! Three stories, lots of high ceilings and moldings and unique light fixtures....my brother has turned one room into what he calls The Man Room. The Man Room uses its built in curios to display sports memorabilia. It has a 50" TV. It has a huge home theatre system. One of the coolest things about the man room is that you can flip back a secret compartment, slide one of the bookshelves out (like in an old haunted house!), and bam, there's a room behind it! It's just a small room where the water heater and the cannister for the central vac system resides, but damn does that bring a whole new dimension to playing hide and seek! haha!
The house has a kitchen I'd die for (except it's white...harder to keep clean). Corian counters, tons of cabinet spaces, kitchen island, kitchen desk, place for cookbooks, great stovetop and oven, etc. Nice walk in pantry too!
My brother and Deb are typical people from my family in their level of generosity. I tease my friend Shana--a diehard democrat from a long line of democrats--that if all republicans were like my family, she'd be one too. Shana laughs, but she sees my point. My family believes strongly in noblesse oblige, that is, the responsibility of the rich to take care of the rest of the world. My family just believes it's not the GOVERNMENT'S job to do so, is all. So, my wealthy relatives are constantly donating money to this or that cause and doing volunteer work. I was raised being dragged to a school of the deaf and to a children's cancer clinic when I was younger because that's what my mom did with some of her spare time. My parents currently do Meals On Wheels and have done so for over a decade. My brother Ken pays extra for his maid service because this one company provides health insurance for their staff, and Ken considers it criminal to make a person work full time hours and not get health insurance for it. He once told me, if you can afford a maid, you can sure as hell swing another $10 or $20 a month onto the cost of having her come out there so she has health insurance, damnit. I watched this idea in action once again when the movers came. Before Deb left for work, she told me, "Make sure they get whatever bottled water they want, I bought all of that for them so they wouldn't get dehydrated. And if I'm not back by lunch, give them this," and she handed me a wad of bills, "because I always pay for the movers' lunch. They don't get paid enough as it is, and they need to have a decent lunch. It's the least I can do," she tells me before taking off. Believe me, she left me enough for them to go sit down at Red Lobster for lunch--not for them to all be able to hit up McDonald's. Most folks just would think: I'm paying them hundreds of dollars to move things. Suck it up. But nope, not Ken and Deb! I totally admire that.
And of course I realized that Ken would probably hand me money even though it wasn't discussed. I had to steel myself for this on the ride up. I figured he'd probably hand me $200 or $300. I calculated how much it took me in gas to drive up and then food and such, wear and tear on my car, whatever, and just kept repeating to myself: it's ok, take the damn money, you can use the extra $100 or $200 because this summer things are tight. I am LOUSY at accepting help. I rarely ask for it. Damnit, *I* want to be wealthy and giving my money to everybody. I don't want to be the poor one who has to accept aid *cries*.
So, he walks in my bedroom, tosses a check onto my chest and walks over to the blinds, "These need to be shut or you'll wake up too early," he tells me in a neutral tone, and as he goes over to shut them I realize he's just handed me two THOUSAND dollars, not two HUNDRED. So then the Dance starts, and Ken knows me well enough to have expected it fully. He also knows how to handle it by now.
Kira: I can't take this. It's too much. (hands it back to him, which he refuses)
Ken: Come on, you're broke this summer and this way I don't worry.
Kira: It's too much, I can take something but I can't take THIS much!
Ken: Shut up and take it, Kira.
Kira: No, Ken, I just can't, that's two thousand dollars, that's way too much...
Ken: Kira. Listen to me. Shut up and take the damn money! I just got a commission check that was for about what a person earns in FIVE YEARS, and that's not even for my whole year. Take the damn check and shut up!
Kira: (bursts into tears) Ok.
So, that's that. I had already mapped out the summer expenses so I could make it, and now I'm really ok. I may even go to the dermatologist like I need to for my hand! I have a periodic problem with my skin on my right hand needing a steroid cream (long story), but I've put it off for a while now due to finances. I guess I don't have an excuse now!
I got to see Joe on the way out of town. We had lunch at this great restaurant called Pops. That's actually where Joe LIVES, it seems, as everybody knows Joe there by name and jokes around with him. The food was fantastic!!! It's Italian, and that was the best damned calamari I've ever had. I got a little too enthusiastic with the eating and found half of one down my cleavage later on...hahahaha!
Joe is great at snuggling but he is a lousy ass grabber. Apparently, my friend Terry (who was unable to join us for lunch) told Joe to give me a hug and grab my ass. That's usually how Terry says hello, good bye, how are you, or whatever to me and has for years. If I recall correctly, he even does this to me around his wife and she doesn't blink. It's just Terry. Joe, however, was a bit nervous about fulfilling this aspect of Terry's request. I even turned around and TOLD Joe, it's ok, just grab it. He reached out and gave this wimpy, tentative pat. HAHAHAHA! Poor Joe :) It's a BIG target, Joe, how can you miss? So, Terry (who reads this blog but never comments)...you still owe me an ass grab.
Can anybody tell I'm a natural flirt? I'm really glad that Alex is amused by this side of me and loves it. He knows I'm his at the end of the day, and so little else matters to him. Gotta love it when you can be yourself and still adored!
Anyway, that was my trip. It's good to be home, but I had a great time. I like to feel needed. I helped them move; I helped Deb by talking to her about a few things about the family history that she really needed to know to figure out what was going off with some other issues; and I helped my niece a lot by guiding her through some difficulties. Kira's portable shoulder to lean on and moving service! I have to say, if the pay were always that good, I'd quit teaching and do THIS for a living! haha!
posted by Kira | 3:33 PM
7 Comments:
Hehehe, love of my life, you are wonderful. Incredible!
It always amuses me when men hit on you because I get to smirk at them and think “And you get que dale!. Bwahahahaha!” (F*** all)
I am a bastard and I love it ;)
I hope one day I will be as successful as Ken when I graduate from business school. I need to get tips from him and your dad on investments too.
What a nice brother! Wanna trade for a slightly used sister?
Alex...que dale! Someone told me that was a southern expression! I haven't heard that in a while.
Kira - what a great entry! I love a good flirt (although I blew my couple of opportunities to flirt up in Chicago). Whenever I'm hit on, doesn't matter by whom (good looking man, homeless man, butch woman...doesn't matter), I think to myself "STILL GOT IT"!
Your brother sounds great. I love the nobless oblige concept. And his generosity with you, even though you may feel it's over the top, is wonderful. Go to the dermatologist before it's sucked up by something else.
I found an old box of love letters from old girlfriends to my ex. I almost thought of tracking one of them down...the one who by all accounts was very brokenhearted when they split...to tell her about the bullet she dodged! I haven't, but that's not to say I won't in the future, or that I won't walk up to her if I ever cross her on the street and tell her ALL about it.
I've got my fantasy kitchen chosen. It'll be done in brown tones and have a walk in pantry. The main feature will be chrome professional stoves. Gas, of course. Ken's does sound cool, but I'm with you on the white...too much cleaning to keep up on.
My ex had a man room in both of our homes. In the first house, it was a finished basement. In the second, an unfinished basement hole. Ken's sounds much better! We called it the "testostaroom".
Well...I'm glad you're back and home safe.
Oh...almost forgot. You told me you had a premonition about your ex, that he'd die young. A couple of posts back (the ESP post), I mentioned that I had a premonition about X that I didn't want to share. Well, I'll share it with you. I didn't want to put it on my blog b/c I 'm pretty sure he reads it.
The night we met, I had a thought that he'd be a significant person in my life, but that he might not be around forever. I thought that he might die young (like my dad).
For a couple of years, I'd had this recurring dream about a cemetary that was next to an old white church on a hill. I'd never seen it before in real life. After I'd been with X for a while, I saw the cemetary. It's on highway 19 in Missouri, close to his hometown.
Pretty creepy, huh? THAT's just one more reason why I need to set up my finances so that I won't have to count on child support from him.
It's unlikely an s.o. is going to find any love letters from exes to me, as the letters have usually been disposed of by Yours Truly before the next relationship gets off the ground.
I copied some of S's love letters once: she was dumping me, and I thought she needed reminding of some things she'd said. She didn't like that at all. I assume she discarded the copies; I discarded the originals when I was feeling up to it.
Alex my love--LOL see, that's why I love you so much. You have such an interesting perspective on life, esp. mine ;) Je t'adore!
Val--hum. Well, see, I have a slightly used sister already, plus one other brother, so I guess I'll have to keep this one too...sorry! :)
Laura--haha! I LOVE the slang que dale! It just so fits so many descriptions that I have already integrated that one into my English vocab as well!
Yes, I don't care about the source either...I think the same things. I still got it! I cursed at that one fellow because he was so crude about it, but unless it's delivered so crudely, I usually think the same thing.
Do it. Tell her. She will feel less stupid for what life delivered her (the hung up ex gf that is).
I should describe my fantasy kitchen sometime. That's my favorite room of the house, and boy do I have my ideas on it. Maybe that should be a blog challenge...have folks describe one room of their dream house?
Testostaroom! haha! Gotta tell Ken that one!
Yes, Laura, I understand the second bit entirely. I got my ex to put over a $250k life ins. policy to his children a while back, and...hum....that's why, really. I hope that doesn't sound awful, but it's a good precaution even if I'm not having creepily accurate dreams, right?
Joe--good man! No woman likes to run across that shit ever.
I threw out my old letters when I moved into this house. Why keep them? I don't even speak to half of them anymore anyway.
A couple years ago, I started feeling guilty about not communicating with the exes, even though they had both been the ones to break things off. One told me her dad had died, but didn't seem to want to discuss that, or anything else. The other I wound up fucking again. Neither outcome was desired or satisfactory.
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