I sometimes despise myself for being grateful that there's only myself and one quite competent sister left of the blood family.

Ooof, ND. That's tough. Family + Money = Yuck.

These holidays are too often stressful; the enforced togetherness with the expectations that this year everything will be like a Hallmark card. And it just doesn't happen. Some people, the holidays bring out the worst, although some don't. The Buffistas always seem to bring an element of sanity ... or happy INsanity, as needed.

And, speaking of the less than sane, let me present this. (shudder)

That's different, sj. Have absolutely met that guy. And his "cousin" the guy that thinks I'd make a good choice because I'd be undemanding. And the online asexuals, and, like, I don't want to be mean to those people and, god knows, I have not done it in every room of my house or anything(far from it) but I just wanted to be Cordy for one day and tell them "Look, dude, I'm doing that now, and I eat what I want and get to keep the remote." But then, the people that just wanted me to come to their house and screw confused me too...have I missed the "Dinner and movie" window or something?

Windsparrow, when he can keep his mind on his work, he's knowledgeable about a range of issues. I was impressed. And also saddened that his fantasies are so juvenile, but after all the Philip Roth, not as surprised as a lot of people. But it's still sad--risking your whole life for Joseph Gribble shit like "Naked in high heels." really? Not that I'd be like "Tony, next time there's a scandal, I want you to be a real fucking *perv* or it's not worth it," but kind of.

OMG. I am totally the drama llama right now.

First though, ND, I hope the intertwined stressors let up soon...in a fruitful manner. And, Connie, I hope you don't leave a trail!

More house drama for me with a side order of batfuck crazy.

One of the things I was proudest of over the holiday, was taking it upon myself to trim the roses back in my front yard...rather than bitching that my landlord has (quite actually) not laid a hand on them for the last 10 years. The roses hurt me, and he doesn't care, so it's on me to do something. So I did, and frankly, they looked great when I was done and I told him about it immediately.

SEVERAL of the neighbors have complained about the way the place looks, but hey, he doesn't give a shit.

This morning, one of my neighbors, who has been threatening to sneak in and chop them down herself, said that I didn't trim them back enough. I don't know anything about roses and don't have the equipment to do any more, but she offered to lend me her loppers.

I assented in the that, yeah, sure, someday sort of way.

I walk out of my house a few hours later and she has chopped two of the four bushes to the ground and left the thorny branches strewn around like they some crazy person had a fit.

My landlord thinks I did it out of spite.

I don't want to tell him who DID do it, for fear that some war will break out. So, I begged her to tell him the truth. All she wanted to know was if I'd said her name out loud.

PLUS, the outside door has broken for about the 8th time in the last year. EVERY time this crap-ass, dent bin, 'bargain' he installed breaks, it's my fault because I don't open the door properly. Or whatever the hell.

There is no mail slot, like the previous door, so I have to leave the 'security' door unlocked all day because the Post Office will refuse to deliver my mail after so many lock outs.

He's bitching that he has had to buy 3 new mechanism and I'm furious because I'm getting blamed for other people's choices.

GOD. I could chew nails.

You don't want a war between your landlord and the neighbor, but you're willing to have the landlord think you spitefully cut down the roses? I'd want to minimize grief with the person who could decline to renew your contract on your living space.

Your logic is sound, Connie, but the neighbor is actually crazy. Having him lip off to her, as he would, would spark her to greater heights of crazy and THAT would be my fault because he is pathologically conflict averse.

To his way of thinking, the fact that I ever spoke to anyone about the roses makes this my fault. Because he's crazy too.

eta: In the end, I made it clear that this is not my business and I hope the other person comes clean.

In a rather impolitic outburst, I told the neighbor's son (we chat all the time) that his mom had 'fucked me' and that I hope she takes the heat off of me.

If she had any honor, however, she would have walked down to the store immediately, so yeah, that's a long shot.

bonny, perhaps you could tell the landlord that you didn't do it and didn't actually see anyone else do it - literally true but not pointing a finger. That's all I could suggest.

In unrelated news, a collection of knitting cartoons. Called It Itches.