“Whore’s Bath?”

Excuse me…I thought you said horse bath.

How I would mistake these two? I think it’s all about the accent.

Just to give people the jest of the story my plumbing failed yet again this morning…and when I say morning I mean 5am. Sewage came up in my shower.

Fabulous!

So to skip all the in between, it came down to how me and my roommate were going to have a shower…with out a shower.

I was on my cell phone talking to him and he said, “I guess I’ll just have to take a horse’s bath.” I thought I didn’t hear him correctly.

Okay…well’s he’s from Indiana so I don’t know what the fuck they do there. Horse’s bath it is for him.

Me…well I was just going to take a “spit bath” as my grandmother called it and Mindy reminded me of it when this next conversation ensued.

When I called Mindy I recounted what was happening and told her what Robert said, “Mindy, he’s going to take a horse bath.”

“Oh yeah I’ve had to do that before.”

“A horse bath?” I said.

“A whore’s bath.” She said.

“Yeah a horse bath.” I said.

You see where this is leading don’t you?

“No India, a WHORE’S bath.”

My brain finally wrapped it self around that one.

“Oh…”

Still had no clue what it meant.

(Side note…Mindy has had bad plumbing too. Just to get that straight.)

I was readily informed by both parties what it exactly meant.

“A whore in the olden days use to clean herself between johns. That’s called a whore’s bath.”

Well that would explain it…I felt as if I was bathed in a brothel and put out to dry.

As Mindy said, you learn something new every day…and she is so right.

Even if it’s the simplest of things.

I can’t even describe all of the jokes that went back and fourth.

It made me smile.

Then we have Mindy’s dishwasher…ahh…another blog.

Today totally freaked out so many people.

It was fabulous!

Now I must be off…to take a Whore’s bath.

Wish me luck…it’s my first time.

Attention WalMart shoppers…

Honestly, does she have any idea what she is wearing?

Ahhhh….and my brother answered his phone.

Plane ticket…no problem. He didn’t know how bad mom was.

He told me to call ma and discuss it with her…I did.

She said “India, if you come here now I would be mean to you.”

I respect that.

I hurt for her though.

My brother put in a plan…he talked to my sister and we are going to call her at least twice a week…all three of us….until the medication kicks in. Hell…I call her all the time…easy for me.

I have never heard my mother like this…never.

My being is her.

I will not let her fall.

I will move back to Texas if that’s what it takes.

She’s my Ma.

People aren’t there when you really need them are they.

This world SUCKS ASS!!!

My mom is in a complete state of “I don’t give a shit anymore.”

My fucking brother and sister live within 5 mins of her.

AND (Sister stop reading NOW).

Are you fucking kidding me??? Really?

No one cares what that black hole is like…until you have been there.

People don’t want to be around it. Ohhhhh…. sorry…. does it make poor baby feel bad?

Go fuck your self!

I need a Goddamn fucking plane ticket…and I will get it.

My Mom needs someone.

I know the feeling very well.

Honestly, you have to be kidding me…they can’t go by just to see her? Really?

And they always said I was the retarded one.

Say Hello to my little friend...

I named him Nuke.

I don't like stuffed animals...they collect dust...

But Nuke was a stuffy that i kind of wanted hanging around the house.

He's weird...i like him.

Good comes out of bad...

At least that last blog put me into over drive…

I love it when that happens.

It’s amazing when you find a black shirt…paint brush and bleach.

I need to stop playing the victim.

It doesn’t suit me.

And I’m done.

The following blog…

Has not been spell checked or read through.

A fellow blogger cut me a clue

It made me think.

Thinking about my decade of darkness is not good for me.

But I have to.

The Docs? They were cool guys…they just didn’t ask ONE question.

Have you ever been physically abused?

Follow me here because I just found out this today…via internet and it rings true.

Anterior interosseous syndrome

I forgot what he use to do that me…even before booze and drugs.

Until today.

I’m right handed. I draw…I write (yes with a pen) and paint.

It was my right arm…he always pin pointed.

Do you know what it’s like to have some one grab your arm with such force that you think it just might come off and then bite it? I’m not talking love bites he bit and held on.

Over and over and over and over and over…
Ah it comes in waves.

My mind wants to forget…but it’s losing at this point.

I don’t want to remember this.

I just don’t.

I always think “What have I done?”

Now I realize…He fucked me over, fucked me up and I have no one to blame but myself.

Plain and simple.

I didn’t leave.

To tell everyone the honest truth…(even Mindy) ya’ll don’t know the half of it because no one was here…but me.

I always said it wasn’t that bad.

Why do you think I call him the decade of darkness.

So…now that I’m starting to remember things that I should forget…do I just let them ffffffffffffllllllllllllooooooooowwwwww?

The world can go fuck it self.

I don’t give a shit any more.

I haven’t felt this exact pain for a while…

Probably about two years.

If I go through the amount of pain I did with my hand again…I won’t make it.

Pain so bad it sent me to my knees…weeping. I don’t weep.

I simply reached for my keys…it was that simple of a movement. It felt like some one shot my hand off. I looked, to my amazement it was still there…and it still is.

All the docs I saw said it would never be right and the physical therapists confirmed that fact.

Hey it’s cool…I have an intact right arm, I’m good with that.

The pain however, I’m not.

I’d like to make some crappy joke to make it all seem better.

I don’t have one tonight.

What is going on...

Some serious shit is happening in the freak show next door.

Man...I really thought I had a shit day...but they have shit days...daily...hourly...secondly...is that a word?

I wouldn't be human if I didn't feel for them.

BUT...and there always is one...you just looked at your ass didn't you?

Don't fuck with me...I'm nice to a point.

My point passed when he moved. Now he's back with a roommate...and older man...in Maury's words..."Is NOT the father"...

He's going to get fucked over. I know the drug world from the other side. I don't see this guy much but people are telling me that chris is driving his truck.

My innerders are screaming police.

But what the fuck am I going to say?

My next door neighbor is building Noah's Ark? Hm. Then who's crazy?

I'll just live through the hammering...yes...there is hammering and has been since he moved back in.

Fuck this...I'm moving on up, to the East Side...shit!

Fuck it...

Tomorrow will be beautiful...I know it....it always is in some form.

As I’m applying hair dye tonight…

I think…”What’s the fucking point?”

There really isn’t one.

To make myself look better?

Yeah. I guess.

But for what?

I’ve had a hard couple of days.

I was off on Tuesday and it was a day long panic attack.

I tried to live though it without xanax or booze.

It was fucking horrible.

I caved at 8pm.

I really wish I knew when my mind went wrong.

"How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop...the world may never know."

The freak show is back in town…

I lost it today.

He’s to close.

The fact that he was at my stoop this morning didn’t help matters.

Doors have been slamming all day.

The dogs have gotten in three fights…he’s back and he’s fucking with my family.

He’s been back for ONE fucking day.

Xanax couldn’t even help today…nor booze.

I was shaking from the inside out.

And I still am.