And So We Begin...

Allow me to begin by introducing myself. I am really no one overly special, even though we're all different in some unique way. I go to college in a small town in the S.E. U.S., and I'm almost 25 (I refer to this years birthday as Doom's Day- but we'll get to that later). I have started this blog because I go to college full time and as I recount tales of my home life to my friends, I always get one of two reactions: 1) Pee your pants funny or 2) Complete and utter astonishment. So, I decided to start this blog as not only a way to find the humor in things and de-stress, but I'm also maybe a little input or suggestions from others.

Everyone has a different family situation. Some lucky, some unfortunate. I have had the privilege of being raised in the former, however I find myself currently submerged in the latter. Great. The events leading up to where I am at now, are my fault, and mine alone. On the same token, I was lured here under not so much false pretenses as...not quite knowing what I was getting myself into. About 8 months ago I found myself in a bit of a sticky situation. My former roommate's home was being foreclosed on. Subsequently I had to find somewhere to live, but since I had no job (thanks to the economy), I found myself in quite a quandary (I love that word!). My parents have a very strict rule- once you move out, there's no coming back. The rule sucks, but that's the way the ball bounces. If I would've realized how good I had it, I never would've left.

But I digress, I called my grandmother (mom's mom) and asked her what she thought. She enthusiastically offered me a place in her home. I was relieved. However to sweeten the deal she also informed me that if I lived with her, I was required to go to school full time and I was not allowed to work. Well, that was obviously a no brain er. If only I had known... So I now live with my Grandmother, Grandfather, both uncles and Cousin 1 and 2 most of the time (but more on that later).
Before I begin my first chronicle, as a convenience to you, I will provide a list of characters (obviously the names will be changed).
I'm Cuban-American, so there will be some spanish names...
Grandmother, Uncle #1, Uncle #2 = The Tribunal/ CIA
Grandmother (aka the Martyr/Chief)- Abuela/Granny
Grandfather (aka the Ally)- Papi
Uncle #1 (aka Brainwashed/Cronie #1)- Tio
Aunt (aka the Volcano)- G
Cousin #1 (aka the Messiah)- Bebe
Cousin #2 (aka the baby)- X
Uncle #2 (aka the Egomaniac/Snake/The Informant)- Red
Uncle #2's Girlfriend (aka the Unsuspecting)- Az.
Mom (aka The Woman Who Get's Blamed for Everything)- Mom
Dad (step dad aka The One Who Doesn't Love Me- although he really does)- Dad
Sister #1 (aka The Party Girl)- M
Sister #2 (aka Mischief)-C
Bill (aka my biological father)- Bill
Nanny (aka My Sanity)- Nan

So there is a brief overview. As we progress, I will not leave you confused or in the dark, as I bring in new characters I will repost/revise my list with that entry.

As I close down this entry I will leave you with my latest Chronicle to help give you a taste of what this blog will be like. Ready?
Here we go...
Monday: I arrived home from classes to discover that in the closet I share with Abuela an entire rack had fallen down. The mess seemed endless and I called Red into the room to help decide on a course of action. He decided that a trip to Lowe's was in order.
I stayed behind in order to reorganize the things that had fallen, and saw this as a golden opportunity to purge the overcrowded closet of items that hadn't been worn since 1988 (including my raincoat from preschool..). When Abuela returned from work that evening I showed her what had happened and asked her what she thought of allowing me to reorganize our things (for future reference, everything has to be her idea, otherwise the answer is no). The martyrdom kicks in.
"Well ju know! I leeb dis house at 5am (more like 7) and don get home unteel 8 at nighbt!(more like 5:30) How can ju espet me to come home from werk an I ang eshausted !" Don't you think a simple " A, I think it's a great idea, but let's save it for the weekend." or "No, I'm really tired." ?

So I sat on the floor of the bathroom refolding more things that had fallen, and I remembered that I had been promising Abuela for months that I would reorganize our bathroom cabinets. With a burst of energy I got to work. I threw away things like surgical gloves (???), lotions that had turned yellow with age, cremes and medications that had expired in 1992, just to name a few. By the time I was done with half the bathroom I had two trashbags FULL of junk. Oh yeah, plus over 350 bars of hotel soap, and lipsticks she had worn in over 15 years.

Throughout my endeavor G was in the bathroom giving the kids a bath, marvelling at my organization of the cabinets and in agreement with every item I had thrown away. An hour later and I was almost done (I'm a quick worker). Abuela and Red came into the bathroom, not to inspect my work and show gratitude, but to tell me that they had gone through some of the things I had thrown away and told me that I had no right to throw away 15 year old lipsticks (what if she decided to one day put on makeup??) or 10 year old Preparation H (who would seriously still put that in their butt???).

So of course Abuela started yelling (because maybe she's going deaf? Not. She has only three volumes- loud, louder and piercingly shrill). "You habe no righ to trow abuay my tings!! Atrevida!!(brazen) Who are ju to jus trow tings away?!? Anser me!"

I have learned however, to do one of three things 1) Apologize for the error of my ways 2) Agree with everything ("Yes, you're right, I am ungrateful") 3) Play dumb. I went with the latter. After she stormed off, I decided it was time to retire from my expedition for the evening, and take up my cause at a later date.

Tuesday: I woke up for class (6:30 am- not my favorite...) and I went to the bathroom to see if Granny was done taking a shower- after all she goes to work at 5:30 in the morning right? Hahahahaha. I found her in her underwear frantically searching the bathroom for a needle and thread from a little sewing kit that she had (about 4 of those, that I threw away). I had never in all my 24 years seen that woman sew a button. She started crying. Not kidding. She began pulling out all the drawers in the bathroom. "Ju jus trow my tings abuay! I migh as well no eben esist! I don't eben wan to comming home to by own home tonigh! I can beliebe ju! Atrevida!"

She stormed out of the bathroom (that's her favorite behavior) and was running all over the house crying and repeating her previous words. So Tio in his I-need-Xanax-in-the-worst-way (at least that's what I think) came out of his room freaking out. "MOM?!? What's wrong?!? What happened?!? Are we being bombed?!?" (haha just kidding, I added the last one for emphasis...)

"Ob coorse! CHE trew EBERYTING! She is ungbeliebable! How can che?!? Che igs shangeless an brazan!" Which you will soon learn, that in my household feminism does not exist. They are very -Me Tarzan, You Jane.

"I know Mom, she has no right to do that to you. We'll handle it later."
She finally left for work- but not before taking the hairbrush with her.

I left for school that morning with my ritualistic coffee and sucked down 3 cigarettes before my classes began. Another touchy subject- I've already been cracked across the face for that discovery- but I keep smoking, the Lexapro just isn't enough to control my anxiety.