I've always said this, "If the place was cleaner I wouldn't mind having guests over."
[Thinks a minute].
Maybe that's why the place is never clean enough.
It's always a struggling battle in our smallish apartment. No space + lots of crap (ok, Hubby will say it is NOT crap [food, appliances taking up 3/4 of the kitchen, etc.] just that we haven't enough room) = me constantly trying to find ways to make it look neater and more spacious. Sure, I have my moment where I want to throw everything in the garbage and say, "No more stuff," but that would be unrealistic. We get the very welcomed bag of clothes from relatives for Kiddo who is growing my leaps and bounds. One pair of shoes this week is next weeks outgrown growth spurt.
I envy those who can plan parties and get togethers in their homes. I mean, I remember as a kid having get togethers at our house and family houses across the land, and I always wished rather than put into fruition of having a family get together at where we live. I keep banking on the thought of, "Once we have a house, then we'll entertain."
Right now it feels like all the stuff we have is like college dorm room stuff. Computers take up 1/4 of our living room, the coffee table and couch another 1/2. So, doing the math, there isn't that much room to walk or meander around. You can't spread your arms out and do "The Hills Are Alive" with the Sound of Music spin without bumping into something bulky like a t.v. or computer chair. I don't think any of this would work in a dorm room but it all has that look of, "Not in a house" kind of furniture. The couch, I've often said, will have to be replaced but I'm still waiting for that expansion of After the Wrath of Kiddo to make it work.
Ok. 12:07 pm. Kiddo was playing Goofy Skateboarding on his computer and put it on pause to have some lunch. I was typing away describing the couch thing, when all of a sudden, clear as can be, we (Kiddo and myself) hear from his speakers -which is playing the music from the game over and over- I hear ,"Yeeeeeah."
. . . . . . . .
A male voice, crystal clear, as if he was piped into the game and saying "Yeah". No feedback, no static, just as if someone had a microphone and just said it. Not that this really freaked me out... much. We're used to static feedback like a power surge, but this was completely different. This was the first time I had ever heard any 'voice' comeing through at any given time. This would have been perfect for Halloween, but that time is over, for the time being.
I'm taking this with a grain of salt. I find it kind of funny tho, about an hour and a half ago Jehovah's Witnesses came knocking on my door. Religious moment triggering something paranormal? That WOULD be funny. Hey Ghostie, I didn't invite them, m'kay? Luckily (I say this as I roll my eyes) Kiddo raced to the door, tripped, fell, hit his hand on the floor and started crying (not a lot, it was just a small face plant but it was enough for me to tell the J.W.'s that I couldn't come to the door now). Thanks Kid, I owe you a car for that one (but I don't want you hurting yourself just because Mom doesn't want to answer the door).
I don't like the idea of talking to someone in my messy apartment, while I'm standing in my p.j.'s, talking about God. Or, rather, someone else's take on God and how they're going door to door to 'spread the word'.
I've always like to ponder God, religions and such in the privacy of my own home and in the privacy in my own mind (or blog, but whatever lol). I guess if I was dressed, had the place all cleaned and sparkly, with a kitchen table that doesn't have a pile of crap everywhere, and chairs that you can actually sit on (more boxes of stuff), maybe, just maybe, if I had coffee brewed and some coffee cake made (anything coffee is a good bribe for me in my book), I would sort-of-maybe-be-inclined to let them in and sit down for a pleasant chat like the good old days. Not to mention I don't like the idea of strangers coming into the place when I'm all alone (not counting Kiddo). But, instead of the good ol' days chat with a neighbor or relative, this would be someone who was selling God to a 'sinner' or whatever they call someone who isn't interested in the brand of God they're selling like a door to door vacuum salesman. Maybe that last part wasn't necessary because I do hear that J.W.'s are very pleasant to chat with. No fire and brimstone "You're going to HELL! REPENT!" junk.
Again, maybe if we had a house, and it was clean...
[Thinks again.]
Maybe not.
I guess Mr. Ghost in our apartment wasn't interested in it either. "Yeeeeah."
*shivers*
Perhaps it was his delayed reaction to the whole situation.
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