yeah, not posting even weekly will do that. Maybe I should do that. Post once a week since I really don't think my day to day normally has anything to write about. Then when something does happen I'm no longer in the habit of posting.
So, first thing I didn't post. That apt that I told you about months and months ago about? We took it. Or got it depending on how you look at it. So I live between Newark and Elizabeth and Irvinton, I think, in New Jersey now. I feel like posting my address, even though I don't know why. But of course I won't since I'm told it's a bad thing to do. :)
Next, the move was no where near how we thought it might go. It seems my sister down played how much stuff we had to move. Took way longer, and cost at least twice as much as they first told us. But we had to move then so we got extra from mom and I had to run between the home and the new apt, once most of it was packed so I would get here in time to have them put most of the stuff in the correct rooms.
My wardrobe was not one of those things. It was too big and too heavy to come up the stairs. My sister did not believe this until she almost got both of us killed trying to move the movers wrong. We then spent the rest of the night taking it apart and moving it to the second floor in peices. I slept in the living room for about 5 day and was busy for Judy over two weeks putting everything where I thought they should go.
About 6 days after we moved in we got our first house guest. Our brother, on his move from Hawaii to a base in in the Hudson valley, crashed with us for a week. He then left his things here while he and his wife took a two week cross the country trip before he had to report in. His little girl stayed at the in-laws.
She was suppose to stay here, but the land lord never thought to fix the floors of this place and you can hear people walking around above you, never mind a little 3 year old running around and playing. So after his first complaint, they decided it would be better if she spent time with her grandmother who wanted to spend time with her anyway.
The next few weeks I settled in. Found out the laundromat down the hill was really closed and the closest one was up a hill and 9 blocks away. After a while I printed up my resume. Got decently dressed, and tried to hand them out to managers. Most, like I expected, asked me to fill out the online application after I shook their hand and asked if they had any open positions.
I was about a week into that and waiting to see if I had any luck and got a call back when we entertained our next house guest. It was a co-worker of my sister's. In fact, she was suppose to move with us months earlier, but dragged her feet for months before backing out. She finally had it with where she was living and came to check the apt above us and the commute to work. I was now stuck in an earlier role that t had gotten away from. Babysitting. It was summer, she the child was with me all day and almost all night. They don't return from work until 8:30 - 9:15 pm.
In the beginning, they would walk up the hill 6 blocks to wait for a bus. The 39 actually. Then take that to Newark Penn to take the Path into Manhattan. Then walk about 15-20 mins to the office. If everything worked like clock work, it would take about 45 mins to an hour. In reality it's more like an hour 15 to an hour 30 mins and up.
That is one of the reasons why they started to change buses. Not that it welled with morning traffic jams. The 39 was unreliable at best on most mornings.
So then school started. I picked her up and realized that it was almost not worth the bus ticket, so I started to walk it. I went up the 6 blocks, turned right and walked across a bridge and 3ish blocks before turning right again and walking down a hill for almost 3 blocks to get to her school. I slightly resented doing it. I'm the girl who doesn't want kind remember?
Either way, I saw it as a way to get me out, give a little structure to my day and all that.
Then one rainy day when I was picking her up, a fool of a boy tried to pull off my wig. After I stopped him I should have just walked away, biput id didn't. He was trying to act tough, but ketch his distance as he called me names. When I got to close, he threw a stone at me and it cut my hand. It took a while to heal since had to use my hands. But lucky me, the next week the child's mother managed to get her picked up from the school and brought to the house.
Which I was grateful for since I didn't want to see that kid again, but now I'm just waiting for her to come home and make sure she doesn't break anything and eat something before her mom comes home.
That is the end of part one. Part two should be shorter. :)