A new era.

First off, Blue Bell makes an ice cream called Century Sundae… if you haven’t eaten it you totally should.  I lose my shit over it every time.  *Drool*

And now, I’ll begin in the beginning, where all good tales should begin.  *Nod* 
This entry is more for me than anything… I need time to sort things out so it’ll be long and drawn out.  Probabaly because I’m still overwhelmed and haven’t had a chance to figure out what’s happening…

My family and I had to move.  We sold our house, closed on our house.  Final, finito, done, end, finissez! 
The day is Friday and we have to be out of our house by midnight.  Keep in mind that if the new owners drive by after midnight and see us still in the house they are entitled to sue us for all we’re worth. 
Or not worth, since we’re broke as it is and with bankruptcy and lawyers and realtors… we’re losing money on the house- FAST.

We have no place to go or live.  And we have a LOT of shit.  The house we’re leaving is a big fucking thing, over 3000 sq ft.  My mom and I have been packing… and packing… and hadn’t seemed to have made a dent. 
I have dress rehearsal today, Friday, so I will be gone for half of the day.  I convince Jeana and my ex-boyfriend, Craven to help out my parents while I’m gone.  Also note… Craven and I have not talked for almost four years, and seen each other once- the previous Monday. 
The movers were here at 0800… my day started at 0700, packing and shit.  There was a lot of stress in the house as the movers wanted over $1000 from us (money we didn’t necessarily have) to deliver our boxes… but at the time we couldn’t even tell them where we were moving.  The house we wanted rejected our offer because we had no credit.  There was another house that we gave an offer to but we hadn’t heard back from them yet.  My dad told the movers to move things over there. 
Jeana picked me up at dress rehearsal and said things were going good, WE HAD THE HOUSE!, and we’ll make the deadline but she still has to leave early that night because she had plans to go get drunk with some friends.

At home, this is around 1800, my homies are helpin’ out.  Jeana, Craven, James, Dustin and Michelle.  I’m not close to Dustin or Michelle and I’d never met James in my life but they were there to help us out.  I was ever so thankful. 

Hours pass, James is a packing Mexican GENIUS but he James and Michelle leave.  Then Jeana.  And it’s me, Craven and Dustin still bustin’ our ass haulin/packin/loadin boxes that weigh 1/2 as much as I do throughout this gargantuan house. 
Every once in a while people would leave to bring shit over to the new house.  I was always left packing and moving boxes.  As a matter of fact, all of my homies saw my bedroom before I even stepped inside of our new house. 

Around midnight, the deadline, Dustin heads for his house and another one of Craven’s friends, Logan, comes over to take a load down to the new house.  Bless his heart. 

Early in the morning, the house seemed to be getting a little more empty.  My dad is beginning to flip out because there’s so much stuff left and only one vehicle to take things over to the house with. 

Still moving, still going.  My feet hurt so bad.  I was full of bruises… and so absolutely SICK of my father screaming at me that honestly, if my ex wouldn’t have been there I would have probably had a totally breakdown and started beating on my father. 

There’s so much stuff left and the sun is coming up in an hour or so.  My dad reluctantly goes to the neighbor’s, wakes him up, and asks if we could borrow his garage to put our shit in.  From then on, we also carted boxes to the neighbors house. 

The sun comes up and my dad is hysterical.  He has had a breakdown already, my mom is alternately bursting into tears, and I’m still packing.  I’m still moving. 
My mom and Craven are doing a lot of the trips to the new house.  She drives, points a finger, and Craven does the manual labor.  Thank God for him.
My dad’s screaming at me.  "What have you been DOING!?  WHY AM I MOVING THIS HOUSE BY MYSELF?!"  And then he’d go inside the house and I’d hear him cursing at the top of his lungs as he’s storming through the house, tearing open cupboards and shit.  "Why am I doing EVERYTHING!?"  My feet are burning, I’m starving, full of sweat.  None of us have really even had time to pee, eat, or think.  I’m exhausted and he kept screaming at me so I kept going.

Everything had to go in a box.  If it wasn’t in a box, chances were high that my dad would find it and throw it away.  That’s how frustrated he was. 

Craven was still there with my family during all of this, going delusional with us.  He’d had plenty of opportunities to go home but refused them.  He refused most breaks we offered.
The brief moments Craven came back, he would always come up to me and ask, "Are you okay?"  It made everything so much more manageable to know that someone cared.
Only one time did the tears start but I pushed them away.  I felt guilty for even feeling tired, or put down because my parents had to have been under worse stress.  And every once in a while, Craven would text me, saying little things that made me remember how to smile. 

0400 in the morning he’d gone through his phone book, seeing if anyone was awake and able to bring trucks to help us transport.  Dustin was going to come back, but his truck had a flat.

I loaded my father’s car FULL of clothes in 30 minutes.  I literally RAN from one side of the house to the driveway, hauling more clothes than I ever thought possible.  My hands were raw by now.  Bleeding on all the clothes.
Around 1000 in the morning (I’ve been awake 27 hours, hauling boxes for 16 hours STRAIGHT so far) the new owners came up to the door. 
This was it.  They could sue us and we would have to sell EVERYTHING.  My parents could go live with my grandparents and I could probably bounce from house to house.  But it was smackdown.  We were 10 hours past the deadline and there was no excuse. 

I’m crying now as I type this.  Look at me go.  Heh.  It’s about time, I haven’t cried over any of this yet. 

The new owners were nice about it.  They said they understood completely and we could take all the time we needed.  Which was good because my mom had just found some cupboards I hadn’t emptied yet.  Thankfully my dad wasn’t around because he was still screaming at me from the garage because he found some drawers still full that I hadn’t found. 
My mom a

nd I began throwing her fine china into trash bins, buckets, anything.  We’d ran out of moving boxes a looong time ago.

It was 1400 by the time we decided we were packed well enough to eat.  We were so gross, lol, and we all went to eat at Subway.  I ate a footlong sandwich and it felt so good to actually sit down and relax.  My hands and my feet were burning. 

After I’d seen my new house for the first time… I asked Craven why he’d stayed all night.  We’d shared a LOT of emotions that night, a whole wide-range spectrum of anger, futility, despair, exhaustion, delirium… and you know what he said?  He said, "[Inmate], your schedule is psychotic.  I’ve missed you so much and this was an opportunity to see you.  I took it.  And it was worth it.  Besides, I had nothing better to do."  (The last part in typical male bravado fashion.)
He eventually asked me out and I eventually said yes.  He was getting along with my father so well, and I knew it was probably delirium speaking but… what he’d done for us was absolutely amazing and if I couldn’t recognize that there were still feelings between us I had to be completely stupid.

I called Jeana back to help.  By now, I’d gotten over the jealousy/anger at her for being able to leave and go be a teenager when my life (what happened to my teenager-hood??) was thrown upside down and I could have been living in the streets. 
So, we continued moving boxes, unloading and shit until 0100 that night.  It had been 42 hours straight of … of who the hell KNOWS.  There were tears, there was screaming, despair, kisses, exhaustion, PAIN. 

When I woke up the next day I could barely move my hands they were so swollen. 
I’m a dancer, not a physical laborer.  It’s not like I’m a weakling, or unused to hard work but… SHIT, man, lol.

The shower I took that night… priceless… and without any makeup whatsoever, lounge shorts and tshirt (in stark contrast to sweaty, day old makeup, sports bra and guy’s shorts… I think it was an improvement)… Craven still said I was beautiful.

The day after that I had a dance recital, as well as the day after.  Craven came to that one.  He hadn’t seen me dance in 6 years.  I did amazing. 

And I’m still crying, wow.
Our house now is small; we’re selling half of our stuff and living out of boxes.  We’ll move again in almost 12 months.  I think I’m okay though.  I’m excited to be in a house, rental that we can’t afford or no, that isn’t alive, possessive, and dead people don’t float around. 
And my Dad is a little better.  He still has several years of taxes he needs to finish so he’s still a little grumpy, but being out of that house…
This one isn’t in a real good neighborhood.  As a matter of fact, there’s a ‘No Trespassing’ sign on our barbed wire fence in the front that is riddled with bullet holes. 
But it’s okay, really it is. 

Craven’s coming over today, help me unpack my books. 
(I haven’t had a boyfriend for a long time.  I dont’ even know how to date… but by God I am going to try.)

It’s a new era, almost a new life. 
It’s another chance to start over again… with SO much…

Thank you, God.
And everyone here on OD?  I’ve missed y’all so much.  Hopefully I’m back now, so BEWARE!  : P
*Raucous giggle*

†   INMATE   †

Wearing::  Dark blue plaid boxers, light blue tshirt
Feeling::  I’ve kinda stopped crying at least.  I really need a break…
Last ate::  Ice cream.  DUH.  O: )  I’m trying to get rid of a sudden affinity for junk food and coffee…
Reading::  ‘Tales from the Mos Eisley Cantina’
Nail polish::  ‘Onyx’- I finally had time to do them this morning.  : )