I spent the weekend moving a few more things into the new apartment. Made the drive out to Indiana to pick up a couple pieces of an entertainment center my father made for me a number of years ago, and carried them upstairs. I trudged through the jungle of wires that is my media center and disconnected everything, bringing that up to the apartment. We even now have a chair there.
Woo!
I spent Saturday night camped out on the floor, which could have been a better night’s sleep, but it could have been worse. The air conditioner works very well, and the carpet is clean and soft. We have curtains up now and the apartment is actually beginning to look nice. I had almost doubted it was possible.
I had an encounter with Zai’s brother, and honestly, I’m a little creeped out. If the craziness is all an act, its a pretty damn good act. As was the norm, he was busy avoiding me in the kitchen, doing whatever he was doing. Six o’clock was rolling around and I decided it was time for me to leave, and that path would lead me through the kitchen…
There’s a little closet in the kitchen where the garbage and the cleaning products are held, a little space about a foot or so deep, and that space was filled with shelves. So it was a little strange to see his arm protruding from the closet, threatening anything that would come near with a large can of insecticide.
I decided to ignore this display and make my way towards the door, when I find out he is spraying the insecticide on himself, in an effort to relieve a sunburn. Now, I know some insect REPELLANTS have sunblocking abilities, but when you spray a large can of residual insect-killing poison on yourself, you’re showing a distinct lack of sense.
I would have thought a bachelor’s degree and three members of his family warning him not to do it would teach him that spraying poison on already irritated skin is a bad idea. But, I guess there are times when I am proven wrong. So he sprays it on his arms and then looks at me (for like the first time ever) for a moment with this crazed look in his eyes.
“All right… I think I’ll be going now,” I say and go out the door.
From what I hear, his parents took turns shouting at him over the course of a few hours after I left. I’m not sure, but I think the boy is beyond yelling. I’m thinking now he’s up to a strait jacket and industrial-strength tranquilizers.
Zel-kun out.
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