Dear Journal...

Just My Luck…

So today sucked. Big time. It all started this morning - wait, scratch that - it started last night when I pulled into the driveway after work. It was around 10:00pm. In the driveway there was a white Ford F150 parked in my spot. My good day suddenly transformed into a bad night when I realized who the vehicle belonged to. My aunt Carrie… Carrie was recently arrested for attacking her boyfriend. The night of the arrest she called me and cussed me out in a voicemail (I had ignored the call on purpose because my fiance and I were asleep in bed). She blamed my dad and I for her arrest (my dad being her biological father and my biological grandfather), and threatened to kill herself when she got out of jail… Days later we received a call from her ex-husband. He tried to get dad to sign her bail so they would let her out of jail. He refused. Eventually the ex-husband got her out of jail himself… Yesterday Carrie came over to the house while I was at work. She sat down at the dining table with dad and asked him for a “big favor.” First off, she wanted to leave her vehicle at our house overnight. Then she proposed that dad take over the bond because her ex-husband didn’t want the responsibility anymore… 

Well dad, being the kind of guy he is, doesn’t say yes and doesn’t say no about the bond. He lets Carrie leave her vehicle at the house for the night. First I thought she was trying to hide her truck so that it wasn’t repossessed, but then I realized that she might be sending the bondsman our way to make it seem like she’s staying at our address… Which seems pretty sneaky to me.

This morning I got a call around 7:25am. It was Carrie. I ignored the call, and put my phone on silence. I figured she had come to the house this morning to get her truck and wanted me to let her in the house for some reason. I wasn’t about to let her in my house so I went back to sleep. An hour later, a noise wakes me up. It’s my aunt Michelle’s voice just outside my bedroom door. She enters my room and says that she has something to tell me. Standing at my bedside, she begins telling me not to be upset, not to go into a rage, that things will be alright, we’ll figure something out with the money, she’ll help, it’ll be okay, just don’t get mad… At this point, I’ve already thought the worst - something’s wrong with dad. With his blood pressure sky high since mom’s death, that’s the only thing I could think of. Did he have a heart attack? Was he in the hospital? Was he okay? Finally she spits out the details: “Carrie hit your Jeep.”

I was fuming in seconds. I glared away and explained to Michelle that I had warned dad about letting Carrie leave her truck at the house. She tries to tell me about the damage to the vehicle, but I got out of bed and went to look for myself. I was pissed. I grabbed whatever clothes I had laying on my chair and went to inspect my Jeep. The whole rear passenger quarter was ruined - the frame over the wheel had been ripped off, the back light was crushed, and a huge dent was punched into the side near the trunk window. I was worried that the trunk might not open, but it was alright as far as I could tell. Then as I stepped away from the vehicle I noticed the rear had been pushed a few inches. I had guessed about 3-4 inches, but my mechanic friend stopped by and said it had been pushed a whole 6 inches from where I had parked it. The wheel on the opposite side of the vehicle was bent and you could tell a lot of pressure was being put on the axle. I was afraid to move the Jeep, so my buddy got in and moved up slowly in the driveway. The wheel straightened out and didn’t look so bad anymore, but we still weren’t sure about the axle so he took it for a test drive down the road and back. He said he might have heard a little bit of clanking and that the auto shop should definitely have a look at the axle and fix the alignment. 

Then Carrie called. I hesitantly answered the phone. I never like to talk to her because she can be hot tempered. She kept saying she was so sorry for hitting my Jeep, she couldn’t believe she had done it. She went on to tell me about a prescription drug she was on that makes her a little funky. You shouldn’t be driving under the influence of prescription drugs. I’m only glad it was my Jeep she hit, and not some kid riding a bike… She was putting not only herself in danger, but the people around her as well. She kept insisting on paying for all the damage done to the vehicle. She was practically pleading over the phone to let her friend come tow the truck and fix it. She would pay all the expenses. I asked if she had insurance. No. No insurance. So how the hell was she going to pay for the damage, which has got to be a couple thousand dollars, when she has no insurance? I know damn well she doesn’t have the money to do it. Regardless, she insisted that she had “all the money in the world.”

It took awhile, but I managed to end the phone call. I told her I needed time to figure out what I wanted to do about the damage, and assured her that I would let her know once I made up my mind. Of course, I didn’t have to think twice. I knew exactly what I was going to do. It was an accident, and I was going to handle it the same way I handled it the last time someone hit my parked vehicle while I was away from the scene. I called the insurance company. I filed the claim. I wanted my Jeep fixed, and I wanted it fixed right. Tomorrow they are picking up the Jeep and taking it to the auto body shop where the bookkeeper’s husband works. Our bookkeeper is one of my greatest friends - she is like family, and I trust her husband’s work 100%. I know he will fix my Jeep and it will return home in better shape than it was before.

Not even thirty minutes after I had finished talking to the insurance company, Carrie calls. I look at my aunt from across the room and tell her I don’t really want to answer it… She says I have to. So I did. I answered it like any phone call, as if I didn’t know she was going to be pissed. And yeah, she was furious. “I can’t believe you’ve done this to me,” were the words that flooded through the phone. Then she went on cussing about how she wants nothing to do with this family, how she hopes my fiance rips my heart apart (last time she was mad I believe she said something about him abusing me someday… well I’m still waiting for that!), yada yada… In a calm, collected voice I said the following: “Are you seriously going to talk to me like this after you hit my car?” Then she exploded. I wasn’t going to listen to it. She’s a bully. She has always been all about herself, and screw the rest of us. I am not that way at all and have always put others before myself. And this time I wasn’t going to let someone with the likes of her step on me like I’m a dog. For every person she ever disrespected, she ever hit, she ever threatened, she ever made miserable in her lifetime… I finally gave her a piece of my mind. My blood was boiling (it’s been building up for awhile now), and I decided she needed to hear a few things from me. It happened so fast, that I can’t even remember all that I said in that brief sentence. I just remember calling her a bitch at the end and hanging up.

Yeah, that sounds pretty minor, right? Well not for me. I actually shocked my aunt Michelle who was present and witnessed the whole conversation. I have always been a very modest and respectful person. Swearing is not something I do. Or at least… I didn’t used to. My parents raised me not to use foul language. And with my enormous conscience, I couldn’t bare to cuss too much growing up. In elementary school, I remember swearing because I thought it was cool. But then as I got into middle school I realized how silly it was… Then in high school I just kind of laughed at all the kids who cussed all the time because they thought they were cool and I was way passed that stage. Nowadays I talk with the mouth of a sailor. I guess now that my mom is dead I don’t have to worry about giving her a heart attack when I say “fuck.” I’m sure she would be disappointed though with some of the words that have come out of my mouth recently. It’s just hard to keep it in anymore. There’s just too much stress, and not enough relief. 

Anyway, I shocked a lot of people. My fiance was proud of me for finally sticking up for myself, and his mother couldn’t believe it (she said she wished she could have been a witness). Usually I am a passive individual and people can run over me with ease. Not anymore. I have learned to protect and defend myself. Carrie deserved what she got today. In fact, most people would say what she got from me today isn’t enough for what she deserves. I mean, for Christ’s sake, she didn’t want anything to do with her mother when she was informed that her mom was put in the hospital. But after she died, Carrie came running… Now she thinks she can step all over dad, guilt him into signing her bond, move right into this house (as if I don’t have a say-so… little does she realize dad’s Will says everything goes to yours truly), and take whatever she wants (mom has a lot of expensive possessions that we want to protect from the likes of certain relatives). Well she better think again because I’ve made it clear that there is no way in hell that will ever happen.

My fiance says that my life is his very own Jerry Springer. There’s always a new episode of drama around the corner and he can’t wait to see what happens next. It’s a shame, really…. So tomorrow they are picking up my Jeep, and I’m getting a rental SUV. I’m thankful that I had the day off today, and tomorrow as well. However, I did miss class this morning and might not be able to attend tomorrow afternoon either. I guess we’ll see soon enough. Hopefully it doesn’t take forever to fix my Jeep. It’s the fourth love of my life. My fiance and my dog being the first two loves of my life ;)