I was talking to you in my head

Ugh. I fucking hate this house. I hated it when I moved in here last summer, and I continue to hate it at this very moment in time. Right now there's a leak in my room. Luckily some of my stuff absorbed some of the water. We can't figure where the leak is coming from and we can't afford to have this looked at. So, because of this, we're just going to wait it out. A large bucket will do the trick, methinks.

Yesterday I went and visited my grandmother. This wasn't an act strictly out of love, mind you; my cousin, Kelly, was visiting and I hadn't seen her in ages. She's part of a family which everyone thinks is a lost cause or the black heard of sheep or, simply, the fucked up family. The alcoholism and the aunt who went crazy and ran away might have had a thing or two in plastering this inescapable label on to them. It's the kind of label that relentlessly beleaguers them with flashy, bright colours. Not me. I love that part of the family. A lot. In fact, I would go as far as saying they're my favourite bunch of people in my family. I remember my aunt visiting and we stayed up all night talking. She also promised me tons of hash the next time I see her. My other cousin in that family is awesome as well. She is so cool, calm and collected. She's also a forest firefighter. But I digress. The visit was nice and the pot was great.

Also had a great scare last night, but I do not want to rehash those events. All I will say is someone went missing for about five-hours. All is good and well now, though.