The house...sigh...the house

I wasn't even going to do this post, it's too crazy and involves my family. But, then I decided, why not? It's just another example of what I've dealt with all my life. Here goes..on the last house progress post I did I was complaining about controlling people..well, mostly I was complaining about one controlling person who was trying to make all my decisions for me. And his decisions were, well, really confusing because they seemed to be the opposite of what I would have chosen. It seemed he knew best and since he was the one who was doing most of the actual physical work, he could do as he pleased and there wasn't much I could do about it. I was aggravating my ulcers worrying about what I would find each time I went over to look at the house. As you know I was finding some strange things, like, a room full of furniture that didn't belong to me and a swing set..anchored to the ground in the back yard, that I never wanted. Those things were ignorable. Strange, but, ignorable. I could deal with them later. But, I was really nervous that he would do something really unthinkable, like, knock out my big bedroom closet to enlarge the bathroom. Which would allow him to have room for a big bath tub, which, ironically, I don't want! I want a shower. Or, OMG, was he really talking about tearing off the laundry room to put a driveway there?? I had argued with him that I have a kid, I need a laundry room! Men need driveways. He wasn't going to live there, I was!

My cousin. The unlicensed, but, very capable..and cheap..contractor. The one who sold us the house. Load have mercy. As you know, the house had some trash that needed hauling. You expect that. There was an old abandoned mattress in there. In the front bedroom. The one that is eventually going to be my room. I never paid any attention to it. But, the room did have a certain, occupied feeling. I figured that was the spirits. This part is hard to type. One evening I was in there, when it dawned on me...that is not an abandoned mattress on the floor. It is my cousin Joey's bed. He is sleeping in here, I thought, OMG. He is living in this mess. He's like some ghost hobo living in this house with no utilities and holes in the roof where the rain pours in. I'd thought he lives with his brother in the house next door. It just never occurred to me that anyone would live in the house I bought in the state that it's in. Yeah, it freaked me out. My cousin Joey and I were getting along fine, I had no reason in the world to ask him where he slept. There was a small pile of clothes near the mattress and I now know, this was his wardrobe. It looked as abandoned and forlorn as the junk in the rest of the house, so, it took me awhile to realize I had a very strange situation going on. He had sold me the house, outright, and it was paid for in full and I have the deed. But, he had no intention of moving out. He was going to continue working on it as my mother or I handed him money, but, he was sleeping in it and I presume, going next door to his brother's place when he needed a bathroom or shower, or whatever. I realize it looks like I'm completely slow for not catching on, but, who would have thought anyone could live in a place like that?? It's bad. That's why I got it so cheap. In that last post Angie asked a very good question. She asked when the barriers of communication became broken and what had caused that? I didn't know then, but, I do now. I put most of the blame on myself for not being direct. But, in reality, I am direct. I am old and jaded and I usually just tell people the truth. I try not to be a bitch, I mean, I'm not the sort who goes around being mean or saying nasty things, but, I don't lie to people and I don't let anyone push me around. I am not afraid of being direct in what I want. But, I really thought, that in this case, I must not have made myself clear. I had to take some of the blame here, you know?

I decided to be direct, that's what I would want if the situation was reversed. I went to him and gently suggested that he should find another place to sleep. I told him I was worried about him and his health in there and as much as I appreciated him 'watching' the house for me, it was time for him to, you know, find another place to call home. I told him it was my house now and reminded him of the payment and deed. He had other places he could go. His brother's empty upstairs bedroom, my mother's house (she offered him Aunt Ruth's old efficiency apartment), or maybe the camper he said he was going to buy with the money he got for the house. Well, it turned out, he had spent ALL the money he got for the house on a big Forth Of July party. All of it went for beer, liquor, pot and fireworks (and they blew off a neighbors fingers..for real) and he had nothing left. He was living on the money we gave him to work on the house. Actually though, that would have been pretty good pay, since he knew how to recycle and get free materials. All this information sort of fried my brain and I realized he has some serious problems. But, mom didn't ask him for rent, all he had to do was take care of the yard. So..like..move!

He wouldn't listen to me. That has been our whole problem since the beginning. I liked Joey. I liked him a lot. We never hung out much together, but, he's always been a favorite cousin of mine and if he had a problem (he does) then, we'd figure it out. But, I was getting nowhere with him. I talked to him twice and he pretended we didn't talk. Finally, I asked my mom to talk to him and she did. He likes her. She told him he had to move out of the house because I didn't feel like it was mine with him sleeping in there. She told him the apartment was empty, to go ahead and sleep there. It's kind of cute and cozy and damn, it has lights and bathroom! He got enraged and that day he moved his mattress and little pile of belongings over to his brother's place. He said he would never talk to me again. I got upset and went to see him and we found a quiet place to talk. My house.

This is when it gets really weird. During our chat, I told him how much I care about him and how I loved the work he'd done so far. This was no snow job to patch the misunderstanding. The dude is really talented at carpentry, mechanics and plumbing..even electric work. He reminded me that I said he could have the garage and Beer Can Alley and I said, I meant that. Well, he thought I meant he could live in the garage. Which freaked me out. How do you live in a flimsy metal garage?? I told him if he wanted to he could, though I didn't really understand his thinking. Turns out, to him that meant we'd be living together and so, he didn't see why he should move out of the house. It's the same thing, right? So, this was the reason he thought he could make my house decisions for me. He assumed HE was going to live there. It gets worse. He said, it's like we'd be shacking up. Yeah. I let his meaning blow over my head. When I had jokingly suggested it, I half meant it, but, I was talking about a roommate situation where he built on a room for himself. He wasn't talking about that. I was sure I just misunderstood. He's my fucking cousin. This couldn't be happening. Finally, when I ignored it long enough, he made a move. A move which could not be mistaken for anything other than what it was. I shoved him away and said, look, I think you must be very drunk and you don't know what you're saying or doing. But, he did. He said we could be together because we were only second cousins and that's legal. (How the fuck did he know that? Did he google it?)  I told him it may be legal, but, it was never, ever going to happen. When I saw he was getting angry and hurt, I said, 'Look, you are such a talented guy and you're cute and fun, you can get any woman you want. You don't need one who's twenty years older than you and your cousin. You're just upset right now and you're confused.'

He wasn't confused. He's a potential cousin fucker, is what he is. He's also an achoholic and I can't tell when he's drunk, he doesn't stumble or slur his words, he just gets handsy and lipsy. Yuk. This is a sick story, it's making me gag. I tried twice to talk to him and he lunged at me both times. I got pissed off and told the little bastard if he put his fucking hands on me again, he would lose them. I told him he's fucked up and if he wanted to work on the house, fine, but, I'm done hanging out with him. So, he continued to work on the roof and mom dealt with him. She had no idea why I was mad at him, she thinks he's the greatest thing since sliced bread. I think he's a creepy little perv. But, I never said a word to my mom or you guys or anyone else. Then I got sick and had to go have that little surgery. When I got back, he'd gone crazy and talked shit about me all over Guntown. He claimed I never paid him for the house, that he gave it to me as a gift because he was so close to Eric. (liar) He also said he put a thousand dollars of his own money in the house and that he was working on it out of the goodness of his heart. (OMG, what a liar!! I think he got nearly a $1,000, but, it wasn't put into the house. He spent maybe $200 on materials. I wasn't complaining. Good labor is not cheap, but, OMG, the lies!) But, the worst was when he told the neighbors I hit on him. I hit on him??!!? OMFG! I wanted to kill the little perv.

One day mom and I were coming home from the store and there he sat, on his brother's porch, with a bunch of his sad unemployed drinking buddies. I screeched the car to a halt and got out to approach him. I wanted the truth and I wanted witnesses. My mom got out too. He ran into the house, locking the screen door, before I could even say a word. He was inside screaming shit like, 'I don't wanna talk to her! If she comes in the door, I'll call the cops!' Really? Call the cops? For two old ladies at his door? Big man. And that's what I said as I walked away. Big fucking man.

That's when I told my mother what he's been saying and doing. And I told her there was nothing she could do or say to make me deal with his ass ever again. And I don't want the little fucker working on my house or anywhere near my property again. He can go die. My mom doesn't give a shit how I feel or what he did to me, but, she IS upset that he said she never gave him any money. The neighbors all came out during this (because it's Gutown) and told her I spoke the truth. Man, was she mad. When it comes to money, my mom has NO sense of humor. The little bastard is done. I don't know how he'll buy his beer now and I don't care.

I got an estimate on finishing the roof from a real contractor, and guess what? It's better than what my cousin was getting. It will take me two months, but, I can pay it. The roof will be finished before Winter, which means no further water damage to the inside. That damage is contained in the laundry and bathroom. Some drywall will fix it right up. I'll save up for that after I pay off the roof. So, I'm looking at moving in, in the Spring. Which will be nice actually, because then I can move all my plants and shrubs. I'm actually relieved. I am done with family. My family is crazy..for real. I tried to tell you guys, but, I know the stories are hard to believe. They're so bizarre.

The only downside is, he is slightly stalking me. He moved right next door and took the room that overlooks my future bedroom. Last night he sat on the porch there and watched Lissa and I plant four Wisteria. Four Wisteria and four porch poles. It worked out perfectly with those plants I managed to grow from seed. Oh, and I almost forgot, I caught him sneaking outside my door here late one night..or early in the morning actually. He was out there in the total darkness hanging something on my door. I opened the door and told him to get his fucking stalker ass out of my yard. He ran away like a little baby. I looked and he'd hung a baggie on my doorknob. Inside were homemade earrings in the likeness of black clad witches with pointy hats riding across a full moon. You'd think that would be an insult, but, in his goofy mind, this is what he thinks I am. I know he thought I'd love these stupid Halloween looking things and run after him. I broke them up and threw the shitty things in the garbage. He's so fucked up. Fuck communication barriers. I have decided that, this time, it really wasn't my fault. Anyway, there you have it. I'm going to paint all the trim on the house...yellow. Don't you think yellow is such a nice, happy color?