more about Stacy chair
I told my mom what was happening to the Stacy chair. I thought she would be glad it would be going to a better place than my garage. But she was all, "Mrs. Sieve got that for you, you had better not tell her you are giving it away, she paid a lot of money for that... blah blah blah..." I'm all, "MOM!? Does Mrs. Sieve think I sit in the chair every day pretending I am a director? It has my name on the back, I can't exactly give it to Isabella or Gabriel. Are you absolutly insane? Mrs. Sieve does not expect me to cherish that chair for the rest of my life. It is for a little kid named Stacy, and I'm sending it to a little kid named Stacy." Then she starts in on how much shipping is going to be. Um, okay. So am I just supposed to throw it away now? Or is it to sit in storage FOREVER, because that isn't an option. So whatever. I mailed it, it cost a lot but I can live with that. My mom is still loco en la cabesa. I was bitching to her about how retarded my mail lady is and my mom was all, "You had better not say anything to Cindy Fischer (my mom's friend and the town gossip and someone I find highly annoying, and my freaking neighbor) because that is her cousin. I'm all, "Mom, I don't talk to Cindy Fischer, and I don't care if she thinks I think her cousin is retarded." So weeks go by and my mom tells me one day, "I told Cindy Fischer you didn't like the mail lady and she said her cousin was on leave and she wanted to know if you didn't like the mail lady now or the one from a few weeks ago." First of all, I thought me hating the mail lady was a big secret from Cindy Fischer. Second of all, they are both retarded. That was another example of my mom being a crazy person and me living in a small town where everyone knows each other.I went to visit my grandparents today. Me and grandma were going to take the kids to Grant's Farm. We drove up and there were buses as far as the eye could see and it was still five minutes until opening. We just kept driving...

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