Yahoo! Green had a story on the front page the other day about “new survivalists” who see the bleak future and are preparing in the tradition of homesteading. I am absolutely convinced that this is a good idea. During this trip South I have spent way to much money for basically nothing except seeing my parents and my grandma, and it got me to thinking about my personal financial downfall and getting myself together for my move in September. So I called home, and got to talking to my brother, who knows very little but does know something about living off the land so to speak, and of course that conversation went EVERYWHERE and ended, as usual, with him exploding.
First he was talking about how he takes care of my mom and dad, which is complete and total bullshit. There was some crap in there about how he’s going to move to “this little town in Oregan where all people do all day is hunt, fish and drink cold beer”. I left the cold beer alone since he is a raging alcoholic. But I did tell him that no place is like you think it’s going to be, even though I know the dumbass ain’t gonna move out of MY PARENTS HOUSE much less to OREGAN. Then we got into it over, of all things, my grandmother. First of all he was talking about how she’s in her “second childhood” which if he knew anything he would know she’s still mentally sharp as a tack, but she’s just EIGHTY TWO years old and therefore needs a little help, it’s not like she has Alzheimer’s. Meanwhile this fool ain’t out of his FIRST CHILDHOOD.
He was saying how he doesn’t like how my dad gets ill with her sometimes, and what he didn’t like was when I told him that nothing my dad has ever said to my grandma is as bas as how he talks to our mom and dad. He went into how he just doesn’t like people telling him what to do and what’s wrong with him, and I told him that he lives under their roof and they can tell him anything they want to. He lost it and hung up. Meanwhile I cried in the McDonald’s drive through because of everything that’s gone horribly wrong in my life, you’d think having a stupid, mentally ill, delusional older brother wouldn’t have to be the cherry on the fruitcake.
It’s kind of upsetting.
Meanwhile, Mr. Man in Greensboro remains to be heard from. As I said this is probably for the best all the way around. You don’t wanna get involved with someone like me, I’m a loner Dottie, a rebel.
I’m going to see my cuz in Winston now and tomorrow, early in the morning, I’m heading North, looking South, with apologies to Ariel Dorfman for using the expression.