As an unintentional case-in-point to my last post, I had a confrontation with my dad this weekend and cried. *sigh*

I borrowed my dad’s car to get some furniture I bought from a coworker as part of our GCWCC auction. No damage, no problem. I took the car back on Sunday night when I went over for our delayed Thanksgiving dinner, and as I did, I brought some paint supplies that I had bought to repaint a chest of drawers that’s going back to my parents.

I put the bag on the seat. Something leaked.

Now, as it turns out, it wasn’t the paint supplies — and I hadn’t thought it would be, given that they were all sealed and had been kept in the garage the whole time, up against the house. Rather, I hadn’t realized that some of my bike supplies were in the bag, so we thought it might’ve been one of the bottles of oil (there was one that had been opened, the rest were still sealed). Didn’t smell like motor oil, didn’t smell like the fuel stabilizer… so best guess is that it’s lock de-icer that had also been in that bag. That stuff stinks, but at least it’s not turpentine.

I scrubbed the seat, and as I was doing so, my mom came out to see how I was doing. I told her I was crying because I’d been sick all weekend and hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep. She asked what was really bothering me, I reiterated that, and also said that my dad just gets so pissed over things, and that I know I’ll be hearing about this one for the next twenty years. The part that I didn’t say, though I was ready to, was simply that sometimes I think my parents wait for me to fuck something up just so they have something to lord over me and use to pester me… not a fun way to be.

But that was last night, and today I’m more or less better off. The DB and I are still having fights over what stuff of mine is going to get pitched, and this and that. I repeated what I’d told him when we first moved in together — that at that time, there was stuff I was ready to get rid of, and for this move, maybe there will be more. But I have to be ready; and he said he’s kinda the same way.

I’ve long said that I don’t mind getting rid of stuff, but I don’t like to throw out something that still has use, whether for me or someone else. So when we get rid of our worn-out bedding, it will be going to a vet clinic or the humane society, not the garbage. Light fixtures, necklaces, books, whatever — they go to Value Village, or someplace that can make use of them. The DB has said he’d be willing to lend me his car, without requiring I put gas in it, if it’s because I’m getting rid of stuff… so win-win for me, really.

I do need to get moving on the various preparations that go along with moving. I have made a few phone calls, and we’re moving things along. Fortunately we have a week to move in, but that doesn’t mean I want to leave things to the absolute last minute. Although I do seem to be getting more and more procrastinatey each time I move… :/ At least this one should be the last one for awhile.

In general we seem to be moving along fairly well, relationship-wise. There are some issues that do crop up on occasion, and we had a pretty good conversation last week going over them — and by conversation, I mean that I did a lot of talking, and he didn’t say much, and then when he came home from work, we talked a bit more and that time he did say stuff, and I felt better.

I’ve been bugging him to open up more on things that I believe are important to our future; not with the intention of making carved-in-stone plans immediately, but to get ideas of what he sees and when. Given the fact that I’m 28 now and hope not to be having babies when I’m 40, these are the kinds of things I’d like to have at least discussed at this point. Kinda scary to be at that point in my life, but it’s a reality.

I’ve asked the DB if I’m sad to be getting excited over furniture shopping and home accessories. He said I am, but he also likes to have opportunities to take shots at me, as do many of my friends and family members. It gets frustrating sometimes when you’re trying to have a serious conversation with someone who cracks jokes all the time, especially when I can be the same way and I recognize that. That said, I don’t think I make jokes when someone’s trying to talk to me about something they feel is important to them… but maybe I’m mistaken. It happens occasionally. 😉

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