heyyy everybody. sup? (mwhaha.)
my name is kath, and i'm here today to talk to you about the real fucquin world.
the real fucquin world may seem to be distinguishable from an online music board, but we all know it really isn't. i can spend almost two decades raving about ziggy, jethro tull, and the glories of gweetar, but in the space of time i've been here? i've lost my ma, my beezle and my reap. for all practical purposes, now i've lost my sister and my brother in law, their choice.
of course, my son has lost the same people. earlier, he was hammering away, getting some more of my stuff up on the walls, putting together shelves, humming, and i realized that he is the lesson in true resilience.
one aspect of the real fucquin world i never expected to hafta deal with, ever, for the rest of my life: being kicked out on the street without any warning and without a penny to my name. if you had asked me last may day if i thought it was even possible, i would've laughed right before my brain exploded in does-not-compute. i would've been wrong.
i won't get into how my bro in law convinced my sister in her weakened mental state that me and gavin are really cockroaches. i won't get into how much money i contributed to the household before i went broke, figuring that when my retirement kicked in, i would do more of it and spend the rest of my life taking care of my alzheimered sister. i won't get into my shock or how majorly hurt my son was by all of that. all of that is beside the point now. and let's face it: we don't really need to see my fury unleashed. it's bad for my wa. or my chi. or my chi-wa. or my cha-cha-cha. some damn thing.
the point: there is one reason my son and i didn't end up living in my car and scrounging for a meal. that reason would be y'all.
yer donations were our survival. you paid for a temp roof over our head. storage, so i could save beezle art and reap music from the trash bin of my former fam's crazy ugliness. a new phone line, so i would be able to find a place to rent to me (not easy, considering i had no money, no credit and no job, mwhaha. i got lucky and ended up depending on the kindness of one stranger, my new landlord.) gas, so we could get to where we needed to go. and groceries to put in our faces. y'all funded all of it. every single bit.
i will never be able to properly thank y'all for the fact that i'm now sitting in a new place, watching my son hammer away as he hums. mind ya, his fave song to hum is "fish heads", but we can't have everything now, can we?
with eternal love and gratitude,
p.s. i am nominating martha for living sainthood, even though we're just not gettin into the whole catholic thing right now. thanks to her alternate, muskrat, in helping me to keep my sanity as well. geaux breaux bridge, baybee.