Yay for internet!

I am online! Yay for me! Do a little dance, oh yeah! Woo, woo.

Okay, I think I've gotten a little hooked on the internet somewhere along the line. This past week I've been going a little bit crazy. But now I'm back, baby!

I'm not even going to look in my e-mail box. That can wait one more day.

Okay, get ready for buttload of posts, all saved up in one big one. On second thought, I'm going to break them up a bit. Here's one from about a week ago.

Day One

It’s my first night here. Of course, I’ve been here for four nights now. The first night I had a gigantic case of the wiggins. I got in around four in the afternoon, and was instantly terrified. I had to round the block twice before I decided that the sad, abandoned looking place really was where I was meant to be. It was, so I poked my head in, then ran back out to the Super 8 to hide that head in plush, laundered pillows, and watch HBO. Tomorrow was soon enough to tackle… everything.

On the second night, the whole place was still filthy, and, due to legitimate errands and illegitimate procrastination, I didn’t have a chance to clean out a space to throw my futon down. So I piled my dirty laundry into a pillow, and had one last night in good old Tach. From outside, I was able to discern that the eerie sounds that would have given me conniptions from inside, were actually caused by a sweet looking family of birdies in my chimney. I stared at the windows for a while, certain that something was inside, throwing itself against the curtains, until I finally realized that the screen on Tach’s window combined with my own swaying, was creating the illusion.

Sweet Tach. How could I leave him with only one last night. So I gave him two. Yesterday, my chosen room was cleaned and filled, with yard sale findings and yarn, but instead of filling it with myself as well, I decided to let the house get used to me gradually. First my stuff, then me. Another reason, possibly more compelling, is that yesterday I found the root cellar. Partially found, anyway.

Having called a locksmith to come out, I had decided to wander the property looking for doors to fit the five extra keys I had. Peering at the house from the street, I noticed two windows where my bedroom was. My bedroom only has one window. And it’s the last room in the house. Suddenly I knew I had a secret room, and instead of the joy and excitement I always imagined it would bring, I felt terror. What the fuck was in there? And would it come out to get me, all on my lonesome? I’m a big, big fan of secret rooms and passageways, but tell me how well you would sleep with one separated from your head by only a slightly decaying wall. I traced the window to a door on the back porch.

I braved my way out onto the porch that was completely covered with dirty blankets, abandoned vacuum cleaners, and torn up mattresses, and found the door. It didn’t help me with my excess key situation, however, since there was no handle and no lock. This, of course, worried me even more. God knows what or who could have snuck down there at any time during the past year, and was now either dead and decaying or waiting patiently for me. I had images of crazy itinerants (wait, shit, that was me two weeks ago) lurking in the darkness. Determined to drive them out (of my head, anyway), I lent all my force to the door, which politely opened ¼ of an inch. Well, if I can’t get in, neither can crazy homeless guys. Bravely peeking through the window, all I could see was a gate type of thingie, and lots of jugs and bottles and chemical thingies. My sister and I decided I should get the fire chief to force the door open by telling him I suspected a meth lab. Hey, it could happen! Those last tenants were might shady.

And so tonight, finally, after a long day of bonding and cleaning and ignoring the secret door, and a short night of drinking champagne, I am ready to sleep. I think. It also just happens to be storming like crazy outside. The wind keeps lifting the broken roof over the front porch, and dropping it back down with an alluminum crash. The wind also seems to come right through this window in front of me, despite its being closed. Hmmm. I think maybe Tach is feeling lonely…

Comments

[amy]

You are so brave! Great to have you posting again. Did you buy this house or?? I believe you said you were housesitting, are the owners going to help pay for repairs? Hope so..