2.28.2006
Yesterday while Clarence, the mover, whose cock zipper was always half way down and god did he ever talk a lot about his tenant, the spy and the blinds and the snipers. But at least he was nice.
The Property Manager came over. Syl. Syl the Snob. Dude. It was hard enough choking on my pride and writing that letter "Hi, my name is Claudette and I want to get out of my lease early because I'm pregnant and the father is stealing from me and I want to get the fuck out of this province. Thanks."
So Syl came over. To get the keys. I introduced myself to Syl with a big smile. Even though I was running around. I'm a nice fucking girl. He did not introduce himself back. "You're going to clean right?" "Yeah, guy, you already mentioned that. Don't worry. Boy oh boy you must have had some bad tenants before." And I smiled again. I get it. It's his stupid fucking job to be a dick. Of course Clarence's assistant mover, probably from Barrie with the white sneakers and the tucked in Cape Breton jeans except he's never been there was taking the box spring up the stairs and his elbow knocked out a wooden rung in the railing and it broke as though we had termites. Sure why not. Of course.
But still. It was a clean break.
My mother leaned against the window sill.
Then Syl says. "Oh...oh this is not good." He picks up the rung, snapped in half and "Who's going to pay for this?"
He looks at me.
You see. I always had a bad feeling about this guy. His manner on the phone is cold and condescending. He thinks he's hot shit. He likes his little place. His corner of authoirity. "I'm a property manager."
"The landlord is not going to like this."
And that wasit.
"You know what buddy. I don't care what the landlord likes. This place is an overpriced shithole. I asked five times to have the fireplace fixed...that's an extra 100 bucks on the rent. And it never worked. Not once. I told you and him and Tanya that the toilet seats were broken off. No one came to fix them. And the cockroaches and this disgusting carpet that was on sale at Wal-Mart and has been here since 1993 and the walls were never painted...so if you want us to pay for a wooden rung that broke like a matchstick...I mean fine...how much do you want for it? 20 bucks?"
Then it was nap time for about 30 seconds and,
"They cost $5.99 at the Home Depot," says Clarence.
11:20 AM
2.25.2006
Girls! Girls! Girls!
I coulda watched those sonic super waves all day. The technician measured her cranium and I thought...hmmmm...maybe she's going to expose me as a fake.
"Hey lady..you ain't pregnant. Why you lying to everybody?"
...yesterday her head was nestled close to my left hip and she lies diaganol. She has a very gorgeous spine. Perfect in fact. She starts moving around and stretches her looooooooooooooooooooooong legs (yes, I have a leggy girl) and kicked me!
It was awesome.
4:27 PM
2.09.2006
I don't feel so bad when I look down at my now-large Stomach (HOLY CRAP!)and realize the baby is now the size of a....... KITTEN!!!!
I fucking LOVE KITTENS!
4:00 PM
2.03.2006
I'm pretty sure nailpolish will make me feel better.
5:41 PM
Yesterday while Clarence, the mover, whose cock zipper was always half way down and god did he ever talk a lot about his tenant, the spy and the blinds and the snipers. But at least he was nice.
The Property Manager came over. Syl. Syl the Snob. Dude. It was hard enough choking on my pride and writing that letter "Hi, my name is Claudette and I want to get out of my lease early because I'm pregnant and the father is stealing from me and I want to get the fuck out of this province. Thanks."
So Syl came over. To get the keys. I introduced myself to Syl with a big smile. Even though I was running around. I'm a nice fucking girl. He did not introduce himself back. "You're going to clean right?" "Yeah, guy, you already mentioned that. Don't worry. Boy oh boy you must have had some bad tenants before." And I smiled again. I get it. It's his stupid fucking job to be a dick. Of course Clarence's assistant mover, probably from Barrie with the white sneakers and the tucked in Cape Breton jeans except he's never been there was taking the box spring up the stairs and his elbow knocked out a wooden rung in the railing and it broke as though we had termites. Sure why not. Of course.
But still. It was a clean break.
My mother leaned against the window sill.
Then Syl says. "Oh...oh this is not good." He picks up the rung, snapped in half and "Who's going to pay for this?"
He looks at me.
You see. I always had a bad feeling about this guy. His manner on the phone is cold and condescending. He thinks he's hot shit. He likes his little place. His corner of authoirity. "I'm a property manager."
"The landlord is not going to like this."
And that wasit.
"You know what buddy. I don't care what the landlord likes. This place is an overpriced shithole. I asked five times to have the fireplace fixed...that's an extra 100 bucks on the rent. And it never worked. Not once. I told you and him and Tanya that the toilet seats were broken off. No one came to fix them. And the cockroaches and this disgusting carpet that was on sale at Wal-Mart and has been here since 1993 and the walls were never painted...so if you want us to pay for a wooden rung that broke like a matchstick...I mean fine...how much do you want for it? 20 bucks?"
Then it was nap time for about 30 seconds and,
"They cost $5.99 at the Home Depot," says Clarence.
11:20 AM
2.25.2006
Girls! Girls! Girls!
I coulda watched those sonic super waves all day. The technician measured her cranium and I thought...hmmmm...maybe she's going to expose me as a fake.
"Hey lady..you ain't pregnant. Why you lying to everybody?"
...yesterday her head was nestled close to my left hip and she lies diaganol. She has a very gorgeous spine. Perfect in fact. She starts moving around and stretches her looooooooooooooooooooooong legs (yes, I have a leggy girl) and kicked me!
It was awesome.
4:27 PM
2.09.2006
I don't feel so bad when I look down at my now-large Stomach (HOLY CRAP!)and realize the baby is now the size of a....... KITTEN!!!!
I fucking LOVE KITTENS!
4:00 PM
2.03.2006
I'm pretty sure nailpolish will make me feel better.
5:41 PM
