#mymisadventures&misfortunes

[anarchyrefined]

I think I started in the wrong place

Oh, how absolutely thrilling! My incredible journey of misadventures began at the wrong spot, clearly. You see, the real drama started way before the spectacular summer of 2022. But don't worry, I won't bore you with the details of my childhood, or what bits of it I can even recall. No, no, let's dive right into the riveting year of 2007.

During that exceptional time, my dear mother was in the absolute peak of her mind-boggling battle with Bi-Polar Disorder, now right in the midst of her second grand manic episode. Oh, what a delight to witness. We were living in a quaint little town of less than 500 people, oh, how charming! And not just that, we were residing in the humble abode of her new boyfriend. Such a blast for a sophisticated city kid like me, as you can surely imagine.

Now, due to my extraordinary experiences in the city, my social circle consisted mainly of the older kids in this fine town. While I was merely in the ninth grade, they were the wise seniors in grade twelve. Such a privilege to be in their esteemed presence, truly. We had been graced with the pleasure of living in this town for approximately seven months, or some equally exciting amount of time. As spring rolled along, I couldn't help but notice the familiar signs of my dear mother's impending manic episode. Oh, how fabulous! Naturally, as an expert in her unpredictable behaviour, I swiftly contacted my dear grandparents. They, being the pinnacle of wisdom, spoke to her remarkable boyfriend, and together they decided that a hospitalization in the city, where we hailed from, was necessary. After all, her psychiatrist was based there. What a stroke of luck!

The only tiny hiccup was that the boyfriend couldn't just admit her and walk away willingly, or perhaps he simply didn't want to. Ah, the conundrum! Now, you must understand, I couldn't possibly accompany them on this thrilling journey, or I would dare risk missing school. And let me tell you, it was certainly going to be an extraordinary-extended stay at the hospital. The ingenious solution? Leaving a mature, responsible 14-year-old girl all by her magnificent lonesome at home. Oh, what joy!

Fear not, my dear reader, for the boyfriend's parents resided in the same splendid town. They graciously took the time to occasionally check on me, bless their hearts. We would even gather for a delightful dinner on rare occasions. But apart from that, I was ever so splendidly unsupervised. Now, what do you think a teenager with free rein of the house and no adult presence would do, I wonder? Ah, the possibilities!

Why, of course, like any other level-headed teenager in such a marvellous situation, I decided to throw a tiny get-together with a handful of friends on either a blissful Friday or a stupendous Saturday. Sorry, the exact day eludes my impeccable memory. There were a grand total of four, perhaps five of us, indulging in some beverages. Ah, the sophistication! Myself, a dear friend, her charming boyfriend, and possibly one or two of his equally marvellous companions. You must understand, my older friends were of age, so obtaining liquor wasn't an issue.

Oh wow, guys, you won't believe the night I had! So, I may have had a little too much to drink and ended up passing out. Classic, right? But here's where it gets juicy. My friend and her boyfriend decided to do their little lovey-dovey thing in my mom and boyfriend's room. Scandalous, I know! Meanwhile, I was just minding my own business in my own room, while our other friends crashed on the couches. Perfectly innocent, I swear.

But of course, life just loves to throw curveballs at us. Who else but my step-grandfather decides to make an unexpected check-up right in the middle of the afternoon when we were all peacefully sleeping? Lovely timing, grandpa! Now, in my drunken stupor, I managed to lock the door (that is never locked), but oopsie, forgot to clean up the evidence. So, naturally, he starts banging on the door because, oh my, it's locked, signaling that we must've been up to some mischief. I wake up, unlock the door, and voila, it's a crime scene with empty booze bottles scattered everywhere. And to top it all off, my poor friends are startled awake, finding themselves in my parents' bed or on the couches. Chaos, my friends, pure chaos!

So, phone calls are made, friends flee the scene, and I become the hero of the day by cleaning up the disaster zone. And what's my reward for my valiant efforts? I am told that I'll be shipped off to my mom and boyfriend's friend's farm for a couple of weeks until dear old dad sorts out my school and sleeping arrangements. Oh, the joy!

Now, granted, I expected some form of punishment. You know, "do the crime, do the time" and all that jazz. But getting kicked out? Ouch, that's a little harsh, don't you think? I mean, it's not like we caused any damage or stole anything. We even brought our own booze, so we weren't exactly running off with their precious liquor. I cleaned up the mess, washed the bed sheets (my parents' bed sheets, mind you), and presto, everything was good as new. But nope, they couldn't see it that way. They just had to make a big deal out of it.

Now, the idea of living with my dad didn't exactly devastate me. I was always daddy's little princess, you know? But honestly, I never saw this surprise move coming. My dad, bless his heart, lived in a freaking duplex with roommates and my uncle (my mom's brother). Can you believe it? Picture this: three levels of oh-so-posh living. The top level had three bedrooms and a full bathroom, all occupied by the roommate and his two precious sons. The main floor was all about luxury with the living room, dining room, kitchen, and a ridiculously fancy water closet. And finally, the basement, where my dad slept, had yet another bedroom, some sort of family room thingy, a laundry room, and, wait for it, a full-on bathroom! Oh, the sheer extravagance!

So yeah, my life definitely took an interesting turn. Here I am, banished to live in this epic duplex with my dad and a bunch of random people. Just when I thought things couldn't get any weirder. Cheers to that!

Alright, buckle up folks, 'cause this is one heck of a story. So, picture this: my dads room is the bedroom, while my uncle decides to turn a part of the family room into his very own bedroom. And how did he achieve this masterpiece of interior design, you ask? Well, with a good ol' curtain as the room divider. Classy, right?

Now, let's fast-forward to the moment I was unceremoniously dropped off at my dad's doorstep. And what a warm welcome I received! I was kindly offered the office upstairs, which conveniently happened to have a bed occupied by one of the boys. Oh, don't worry, they were just crashing for the spring/summer before heading back to their moms. But here's the kicker, my friends: although my dad had been living with this roommate for ages, our interactions were limited. In fact, I barely knew the guy. So, naturally, I wasn't too keen on sleeping in what essentially felt like his personal space, especially considering my dad was just living it up in the basement like some sort of tenant.

Since my dad and uncle were only given a pathetic two-week notice about my grand arrival, we had to get creative with the sleeping arrangements. And boy, did we get creative. The brilliant solution? I kept my clothes in my dad's room, my personal items in the freaking laundry room, and set up camp on the oh-so-cozy basement couch. Yep, you heard that right. Sleepover at Casa Awkward.

But hey, there was a silver lining in this ridiculous situation. My dear old pops made the wise decision to enroll me in a school that was within walking distance. Hallelujah! No school bus or city bus nightmares, no logistical headaches about transportation. It was a small victory, my friends, in the midst of all the chaos. Because, you see, I was about to embark on yet another new school journey. Brace yourselves, because this was my sixth school in just nine years of being an academic superstar. And to top it all off, it was happening during my 9th grade "graduation " year. Perfect timing, right?

Now, sure, I had some pals in the city. But get this, they lived all the way on the other side. I'm talking an hour and a half, maybe two hours on the bus just to hang out with them. So, you can imagine my joy at the prospect of knowing absolutely nobody at my new school. And let's not forget that high school was lurking around the corner, ready to slap me with even more unfamiliar faces. 'Cause, you know, most people in high school still had a handful of childhood or junior high friends to roll with. Me? I was about to start from scratch, my friends. It was like a social adventure, on steroids.

So, there you have it, folks. My whirlwind of a life, filled with curtain-divided bedrooms, basement couch slumbers, and the eternal quest to make new friends in a sea of strangers. Life, huh? It sure knows how to keep things interesting.

[anarchyrefined]

Well well, would you look at that? Another year has slipped through my  fingers, and I can't even wrap my head around it. 2023 burst onto the  scene like a firework, but fingers crossed, let's hope 2024 tones it  down a notch. Now, brace yourself as I embark on the wild tale of my  existence, starting from January 2nd, 2023 and gradually working my way  backwards. But don't expect a seamless, orderly account, my friend,  because time is playing tricks on me, and my sense of it is royally  Fucked. Get ready for a rollercoaster ride through the depths of my  bewildering chronicles. Buckle up motherfuckers!

Picture this: It was a wild time in my life, folks. Here I was, residing in a 1974 single wide trailer with more add-ons than a luxury car. We had a fancy 4-bedroom setup, complete with 2 bathrooms. Oh, how I wished for a glamorous mansion instead!

Now, let me take you on a tour of this fabulous abode. As you entered, you were welcomed by a room we liked to call the "boot room" (because let's face it, it's too tiny to be a proper mudroom). This delightful space led to the main living area, where the kitchen, dining room, and living room collided in a chaotic yet cozy open space. Right off the kitchen was my bedroom, which meant I could practically cook breakfast from my bed. Talk about convenience!

Heading past the culinary wonderland, you would find yourself in our compact bathroom/laundry room. Yes, it was small, but we managed to fit all our hopes, dreams, and more than a few pairs of mismatched socks in there. Beyond the realm of splash-splashing, we had the blessed hallway leading to the back bedrooms. One of these rooms, nestled in the addition, boasted a so-called "walk-in closet" that was more like a crawl-in closet for ants. Oh, the luxury!

Now, into the juicy part of this tale. Prior to these escapades, I had collected quite the eclectic group of roommates. First, there was Jake, my partner-in-crime for a solid seven years. And let's not forget Winter, Jake's significant other and a stellar pal of mine. But wait, there's more! Enter Jim, our local drug dealer and longtime buddy of Jake. Jim brought along his on-again, off-again lady love, Ava, fresh out of jail.  Last but not least, we had Bob, a 22-year-old kid who was the kid of my mom's friend. What a motley crew we were!

You see, things were spiralling out of control. Our roommate count had dwindled from a bustling 6 to just 3, thanks to misunderstandings and enough explosive arguments to put World War III to shame. It was then that Jim, Ava, and Bob decided to jump aboard the crazy train, joining our humble abode in May/June 2022. Ah, hindsight is a funny thing, isn't it?

But why, you might ask, did I willingly subject myself to this madness?  Well, my dear friends, bills were piling up faster than a toddler on a sugar high, and my rent was about to hit the skies. To top it all off, my trusty roommate had been bitten by the unemployment bug. So, in my infinite wisdom (or lack thereof), I thought inviting these colourful characters into my tiny trailer would be the solution. Spoiler alert: it wasn't.

And thus, the stage was set for the calamities that were about to unfold. Little did I know, life was about to take me on a rollercoaster ride filled with more twists, turns, and questionable decisions than a soap opera on steroids. Stay tuned, my witty comrades, for the saga continues.