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Jul. 4th, 2016 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlofpreyI had an interesting weekend. We had a fire on my street. Which is really a cul-de-sac. I came down at 12.30 on Friday night - way too late to be up when I had to go to the Hospice the next day anyway - and my parents weren't downstairs, so I went into our garage and saw an orange glow and a huge plume of smoke. The engine block in our neighbour's car had set on fire, about half an hour after he'd come back home in it. Which is apparently a thing that can happen. Honestly, it was like a bonfire. Then we heard bangs, which I guess was the tire blowing, because when the smoke clear the car was all lopsided. So we all stood outside on the street waiting for the fire engine to turn up. Once it did it was all over pretty quickly, and thankfully not much else got damaged than the car. Their gutters are a little bit melted, and the plants of the neighbour next to them are a little bit singed, but somehow the car beside the other one on the driveway came out completely unscathed. The car that was on fire is completely fucked though. Like, the front is melted. Presumably they're getting that replaced pretty soon.
Then over the weekend I got a little sad. I asked mum and dad when they thought I'd be getting the money back that I lent them for the house. I'd already asked dad a few days before, and he got angry at me for asking. And the answer on Saturday was basically 'not any time soon'. They really went down to the wire to buy that house, and - as I suspected - the money going to my sister isn't stopping any time soon. Apparently she needs a new kitchen in the new house, and my parents are planning to pay for it. So that's about £2,500. So. Yeah. I mean, the terms were not clear for the repayment of the money, when my mum got me out of bed asking whether it would even be possible for me to transfer them the money, because they needed it by half past midday. But I really felt like it was meant to be a short-term, 'hand us the money and when we're paid in a few days we'll hand it back' kind of thing. Instead I'm left feeling like my dad just figured my savings account was a piggy bank he could raid. I think I got my point across that I'd been expecting the money back soon, and that it wasn't nothing to me to have it, just because I wasn't spending it. I liked having that security, and a little independence from my parents, too. Also probably got across what a risky venture I think buying my sister a house is, if it's going to take them down to the wire. Dad got annoyed at me again, and we were family, and families just do for each other. But I think I got how I felt across. Mum was talking about transferring some money over this week, and paying me back £500 for starters. So we'll see. Mostly I just wish they'd never asked me. That they'd never had to ask me. I wish I was just out of it, and it was between them and my sister. You know, no-one even thanked me for the money. I had to remind mum she might do that, after running around for her transferring things all morning, and dad asked me where the other thousand I had was. And my sister - blah.
Other than that, I haven't really had much to talk about, other than my ongoing perplexed feelings about The Witcher. It's such an odd game. I'm enjoying it, and I'm way more interested now in the story than I was, but it's such a slog. And the way everyone talked about it, I was really expecting kind of a masterpiece, but the story's quite trashy really. Lots of swooning, skinny sorceresses with their tits out, 'which one will he choose?' and etc. Mostly I'm doing what I do with most stories that kind of bore me, and imagining the kind of story I'd be writing. About a spectre king, and the gutter-rat mutated into a monster-slayer for hire, who keeps vaguely tailing him and foiling his plans. I'm enjoying that story.
And I've been catching up on Coronation Street. The football really threw me, and all those random hour-long episodes. But oh my God. David.
Then over the weekend I got a little sad. I asked mum and dad when they thought I'd be getting the money back that I lent them for the house. I'd already asked dad a few days before, and he got angry at me for asking. And the answer on Saturday was basically 'not any time soon'. They really went down to the wire to buy that house, and - as I suspected - the money going to my sister isn't stopping any time soon. Apparently she needs a new kitchen in the new house, and my parents are planning to pay for it. So that's about £2,500. So. Yeah. I mean, the terms were not clear for the repayment of the money, when my mum got me out of bed asking whether it would even be possible for me to transfer them the money, because they needed it by half past midday. But I really felt like it was meant to be a short-term, 'hand us the money and when we're paid in a few days we'll hand it back' kind of thing. Instead I'm left feeling like my dad just figured my savings account was a piggy bank he could raid. I think I got my point across that I'd been expecting the money back soon, and that it wasn't nothing to me to have it, just because I wasn't spending it. I liked having that security, and a little independence from my parents, too. Also probably got across what a risky venture I think buying my sister a house is, if it's going to take them down to the wire. Dad got annoyed at me again, and we were family, and families just do for each other. But I think I got how I felt across. Mum was talking about transferring some money over this week, and paying me back £500 for starters. So we'll see. Mostly I just wish they'd never asked me. That they'd never had to ask me. I wish I was just out of it, and it was between them and my sister. You know, no-one even thanked me for the money. I had to remind mum she might do that, after running around for her transferring things all morning, and dad asked me where the other thousand I had was. And my sister - blah.
Other than that, I haven't really had much to talk about, other than my ongoing perplexed feelings about The Witcher. It's such an odd game. I'm enjoying it, and I'm way more interested now in the story than I was, but it's such a slog. And the way everyone talked about it, I was really expecting kind of a masterpiece, but the story's quite trashy really. Lots of swooning, skinny sorceresses with their tits out, 'which one will he choose?' and etc. Mostly I'm doing what I do with most stories that kind of bore me, and imagining the kind of story I'd be writing. About a spectre king, and the gutter-rat mutated into a monster-slayer for hire, who keeps vaguely tailing him and foiling his plans. I'm enjoying that story.
And I've been catching up on Coronation Street. The football really threw me, and all those random hour-long episodes. But oh my God. David.
