so, yeah. the stuff. it’s so nice of y’all to keep asking!
the saga of the moving-truck clusterfuck has been indefinitely put on hold; more on that later. i’m still working on some of the details, and some folks need to be included in some chats that really oughtn’t start on lj, but if i told you i’d be showing up at your place any time soon, put on your patient-hats, cuz it’s gonna be a while. the local dmv, however, is (allegedly) sending me a new ugly driver’s license with my old name on it, so i ought to be able to get that straightened out with the various billing and licensing agencies all around me with some sort of alacrity after it arrives.
i am currently green with envy over claire’s ability to get off her ass and just make stuff; my inner artist is moping in some serious neglect, so i cut up an old calendar last night and taped things up on bookshelves just to remind myself that scissors are a toy, not just a tool. also, i wrote a poem (see sarenity). please let this be the beginning of some kind of a creative landslide, as lord knows i need more than academia and social drama to keep these wings in shape.
speaking of that (much as i have, which isn’t much & is just the sort of specificity with which it’s going to continue), we’re doing all right over here in the girl-zone, high-fiving a fantasy or two involving a sort of anti-art project that calls for maybe concrete and definitely a boot-of-the-stomping-variety, and ruing the future a bit because there are no tracks out of this one that don’t lead to a trainwreck & twisted metal all over somebody’s backyard (but most likely at least three of them). i’ll pour the cuppas while i have the chance, milady.
and in other news, that specter of the held-together-with-hardware-store-bolts piece of shit car it was somebody’s bad idea to buy a few years ago will not die, & that crook earl right now has both the car (if one can call it that) and the money he owes me, and i’m not entirely sure what to do about it, as i’m pretty well convinced that the whole thing isn’t worth as much as it would cost me to hire lawyers to storm his house & beat it out of him. but i do potentially have connections to the local car-dealing italian mafia to hold over his head, so this one isn’t over. fucker. i’m half tempted just not to care at all, except for how with that cash i could get across the ocean or the continent and it’s getting restless ’round here lately.
i did not design this game.
i did not name the stakes,
i just happen to like apples
and am not afraid of snakes.
that rare, random descent 
moving?
That’s a great quote at the end! Where is that from?
the ever-rapier-tongued ani defranco, in a song called “adam & eve.” the song isn’t particularly apropos of anything to me at the moment, but the line seems stuck in my head as widely applicable. 🙂
If he has the car, is refusing to give it back, and it is in your name…. call it in a stolen to the police. Why bother with lawyers….
no, see, i signed the title over to him in exchange for a check upon which he then stopped payment. i’ll be doing something. but i’m going to get a little advice from the mafia first. 🙂
ahhhh I was missing that key piece of information. of course, it is possible that you could still press charges. if you still have the check, or a record of the stop payment request. It is still likely considered stolen property at that point, or at the very least he has commited fraud.
the police still might be able to help, and it is certainly worth a phone call.