Tag Archives: community service

The Angry Landlord and the Quick Save


I think it’s time to talk about the owner of the house I was living in at the time, because this is a very important part of the story, and an inspiring one. Diablo’s cousin, who owned the house, had let him rent it for 300 a month with the agreement that he would fix a couple of little things to make the entire house sellable.

Now, I love my dear Diablo, but he is irresponsible to an extreme, and he managed to pull me into that irresponsibility. When I arrived at the house for the first party, it was in kind of bad shape. The carpet in the living room had been ripped out, revealing ugly, damaged floorboards. The living room walls were covered in various colors of paint and small amounts of graffiti. The carpets upstairs had been slightly tarnished. There was a room specifically for trash that smelled like, well, the inside of a dumpster.

By the time mid-July rolled around, we had only damaged the house more. The shower had been broken, the living room walls were covered in sharpie – hundreds of phone numbers, drawings, and tags that gave the HoG its appeal. For us, it was beautiful. An entire room filled with stunning imagery and contact information from some of the most creative, wonderful people we had ever met. A wall dedicated to a dramatic day-by-day, play-by-play of the house. The tags had started to spread into the kitchen. The trash room was overflowing. The upstairs carpets were done for. The walls that hadn’t been tarnished by sharpie had been marked by dirty, oily hands and blood.

Blood – the entry way to the stairs leading to the bedrooms had been tagged with someone’s blood at a party that got a little too out of hand. ‘Fuck life’ was smeared across the previously untouched wall in an angsty scrawl. Outside, there were couches, chairs, and a mattress soiling the lawn. The vines had overgrown, the grass had been torn up by the feet of hundreds of little punks, and the flowerbeds were in a state of weedy disrepair.

Screens had been busted out of windows, the electricity had gone out in one upstairs room, muddy boot-steps led out a window and onto the roof.

Beer cans and cigarette butts lay strewn as far as the eye could see, piled creatively in flower pots and stacked in pyramids wherever there was free space. Broken bottles lay scattered on the overgrown back walk, the roof was covered in an assortment of used condoms, random snacks, blankets, and other waste products. A doggie chew-toy hung over the stoop from a gutter, and the front door no longer possessed a door handle.

We had become the true epitome of punk house. Warm, flat beer, people who smelled bad, and blood-smeared walls. Our stink defined the neighborhood, put a new spin on ‘you smell good’ and invited trouble we could not have imagined when we first started. We saw it all as a creative mess, a natural disaster, the perfect aesthetic. The landlord saw it a little differently. Phrases that come to mind immediately are ‘terrible’, ‘oh my god what happened to my house’ and ‘oh no no no no no no no NO’.

This incredible woman who had been so kind to let Diablo stay in that house was in the business of flipping properties and using the money to build schools. By trashing the house, we were, effectively, stealing opportunities for education from young minds. I had no idea, and neither did she. We had lived by the subconscious vibe of ‘what we don’t know won’t hurt us’, but upon her arrival, we changed our tune to ‘what have we done, we’ve made fools of everyone’.

We had only gotten the opportunity to screw things up so royally because she had been gone for a couple of months and wasn’t regularly checking up on the house. She had no idea anything had happened and she was under the impression that only Diablo lived there. She was in for a surprise. At the time she returned, Diablo had adopted not one but two room mates that were not paying rent and effectively draining the pockets of society.

She would not come to know this. Her arrival at the house was a dramatic one. As I washed dishes and Diablo played Super Smash, we heard a knock on the door. Dun dun dun, our doom was fast approaching. Diablo stood and went to check who it was, immediately freezing up and freaking out.

“Do not tell her you live here. Say you’re visiting.” He hurriedly whispered as a sense of dread fell over the entire house and at least three nearby neighborhoods.

A quick salute, a calming breath, and the sound of a door opening later, we were in big trouble. Tears filled her eyes as she got a first-hand look at what atrocities teenagers given responsibility were capable of. She toured the house and then took a moment to compose herself before expressing her anger, disappointment, and worry to Diablo. She was tempted to kick him out on the spot, black-list him to the rest of his family, even have his car sold to pay for damages.

He was incapable of defending himself or calming her down. it was time for someone to step in.

“Hey, I know you have no idea who I am, but I’m a close friend of Diablo’s, and I came over to help him out cleaning up. I have to take some responsibility for the mess in the first place, but trust me when I say that I have been over here a lot helping to reign the dear boy in. I have come to see this house as a safe place, and many others have, too, so I am willing to put in work to make you happy and allow him to keep the house.”

Her face relaxed slightly. I went on to tell her that my father had trained me to be a house painter, that there were many people who cared about the house, and that we would invest time and effort into making it sellable once again. The guarded look on her face and her hesitation to trust a stranger were overcome by a realization of how deep of a hole she would be in if she didn’t accept a little bit of help.

She decided to give HoG a chance. She decided to give me a chance. She knew Diablo would be going out of town that weekend and she asked if I could house-sit for a few days, which would give me more time to help clean up. I accepted, and we were off on the biggest cleaning mission I had ever agreed to – and the cleaning of my childhood room was no joke.

I had a week to prove to her that I could make the house a good place again. Just one week to make a drastic change that would determine the fate of the House of God.

I was ready.

The Easter Bunny


Right now I am sitting right outside the community center of our village, which actually used to be the school before the town expanded and we had to build a new one. It is sunny and warm out and I am very much enjoying the light breeze that is ruffling my pink polka-dotted dress.

Today I am doing my first community service for my probation, which I got from a friend of the church pastor of our town. I called yesterday and she said that there were a variety of jobs that I could do to finish my community service, starting with being the Easter Bunny’s assistant today as we hand out candy to children.

I came out this morning to bag up Easter eggs and now am waiting for a ride home. I’ll be coming back at around three today to hand out the candy. Hopefully it stays this nice and warm.

So basically, I thought that now would be the perfect time to post a blog on my little iPod while I’m waiting for my ride. I mean, I already snap chatted everyone in my contacts and updated my Facebook status, so what else is there to do?

In another note, I now remember how frustrating it is to post a blog from an IPod or other small and annoying device. I’m just about ready to throw this little dude against the wall I am sitting by. Maybe I have a couple of anger problems.

If you live in Wisconsin, I am guess that it is warm and sunny where you are, too, and I would honestly recommend spending some time outdoors. Now, I must go salute spring.

Happy Spring and Easter and everything else!!

Love ya!

Community Service, Taco Bell, and Random Fuckery


GREAT SCOTT, I NEED TO GET BETTER AT VIDEO EDITING. Anyway, enjoy learning about what I did today and getting your ears raped by new music. ❤


Tonight, I went on a date…kinda. He came over to my house, I gave him a tour of the farm, and then we snuggled and watched a movie on my computer. Yes, it was adorable, but I have this thing where if I like someone else already, I can’t get into liking the other person as much.

However, he brought me Nutella to Go and he smelled good.. And he was a really good snuggler. I give him props for that. The thing about all of this is that I really had to make the first move when it came to anything except snuggling.

Ohh, your mind went to a dirty place, didn’t it? You’re such a nasty reader, you should be spankedBut no, anyway, away from me giggling spastically at porn jokes…

We were laying there snuggling, and our faces were SO CLOSE, and he was holding me so tightly, but he just wouldn’t kiss me. So there we were, making conversation half an inch from each other’s faces, and acting like we were 12 feet away. Can anyone say awkward a little bit louder than I just didn’t?

So, this conversation goes a little like this:

Him: So, we’re pretty close right now.

Me: Yeah, it’s kinda nice, and you smell good.

Him: Yeah, I put on Cologne, because I was hoping we would snuggle.

Me: Aww, that’s sweet.

Him: I usually have a plan when it comes to these things.

Me: Yeah? Well, good thinking. *moves face closer to smell shirt*

Him: It seems you women have plans too, getting closer to me.

Me: You just smell really good.

Him: So, no plan?

Me: No, but if I had a plan, it would go a little something like this *kiss*

I HATE making the first move. SO MUCH. It doesn’t matter that it was super cute of me, or that he totally agreed that it was super cute or that then he said something along the lines of:

That was a great plan. So good, I kinda wanna try replaying it.”

NO! Stop! NOT COOL! I had to call YOU! I had to ask YOU to come over, and I don’t even fancy you enough to have made all that effort! But whatevs, good snuggling, right? Yeah, right. Right?

RIGHT.

We watched 3:10 to Yuma, but I’m not totally sure I paid attention to any of it…sooo…awkward? Also, when on a date with this person, I realized that I’m kinda maybe sorta in love with someone. It’s only possible. It COULD be puppy love. I could be…just silly as hell.

But right now, I don’t know if I want any more dates unless they’re with one specific person. DAMN ME! AND MY EYES THAT CANNOT UNSEE THINGS THEY HAVE SEEN!

Anyway, this blog is sucky, but so is your love life, sooo…that was incredibly mean. I’m sorry. I am all over the place tonight. So, I’ll just go now, but I’ll catch you guys later. 

Oh, and I’m doing community service tomorrow, so you’ll get updates on what a good person I am, too.

Love ya!