Ok, here's the facts as I see them:

1) I have not BEEN in the Dixon Household since the 28th or 29th of January.
2) I have in my posession exactly ONE bra-like object, a blue stretch lace tanktop-sports-bra, as Ryan and Grr (who have gone through my clothing) will verify.
3) I have been in extremem pain and have been looking through every bottle, bag, and pouch I own for pain medication to cover it, and have found nothing of use.
4) While 'Stina was still here (2-3 days or so ago) we, meaning she and I and Ryan and Scott and gods know who else, talked to Caleb on the phone. I have also talked to him online, and on the phone, at other points in time SINCE MOVING. He has the number here, my contact information, etc.
5) I do not recall him telling me during the most recent conversations that his mother was holding any mail for me or that she was trying to get ahold of me.
6) As his mother just proved a few hours ago, she DOES have Grr's cell phone number and DOES indeed know how to call it. Her 'inability to get ahold of me' is, as far as I can tell, her own problem. I have received two emails from her: one within a day or two of me leaving her house completely wherein she half-apologised for the few things that HADN'T bothered me and ignored the rest, and one that was a forwarded message about Artists In Pain or something of that sort. I have not received any other emails from her.

Why am I listing all this? Here's the story - again, this is my side, she's got a journal of her own and she can post her opinions there if she likes. This is only what I know.

She called up, saying that among other things, she has a bunch of my mail. Her more-or-less-exact phrasing included 'obviously you don't care about OHP any more, because there's a bunch of OHP mail just sitting here unopened' - when I was there last she insisted that there was NO OTHER MAIL beyond the two pieces I found, and has not told me since of any mail, until now.

She also informed me that Phyllis was 'furious' about my lack of work on the website. I had explained, and will keep explaining, that my plan was to work on an entirely new layout AFTER my computer was up and online. We got the room wired for 'net access yesterday, NOT before then, and my computer will be set up today. It is in bad shape and may take a few tries and some spare parts to get working. Deb's statement that I was 'just blowing Phyl off without any reason' and her arguement that 'if it mattered to me, I could come out [to Gresham] and do it there' is, frankly, bullshit. She's made it clear I am not welcome there - more on this in a moment - and I have NO WAY OF GETTING OUT THERE, let alone getting back, as Deb has repeatedly stated that she does NOT want to drive me back out to the Max after dark.

Now, the bit about me not being welcome there.

Apparently, in one of her bedroom drawers, there was a bottle of Vicodin and two bras that fit Candice. Candice is a VERY SMALL GIRL, nearly flat-chested. Me? 40D, thank you. So already we see that these bras are prob'ly not something I would be interested in, although Deb says that one of them she took from my room, a leopard-print bra. Mind, I've had an animal-print bra for several years that I can't find, but it's NOT Candice-sized so I am assuming that either she grabbed the wrong one, or something. I don't know. Back to story.

She says that Robert, who was absent in Costa Rica when I went over in January to move, came home with a sore back. He went to find the vicodin, and they were ON THE COUNTER IN THE BATHROOM, half-gone. This is the bathroom up by her room, I am assuming.

Ok. Now, she's saying, I have the bras. I don't. She is also saying I took the other half of the bottle of vicodin. I didn't. She herself SAID, OUT LOUD, that in all the time she has known me I have always asked about medication and been really good and respectful about other peoples' meds, so she 'can't understand why I would change'. *blinks* See, I DIDN'T, get that through your head, woman!

If for some stupid reason I was going to steal anything, it would have been either the entire bottle, or one-or-two at the moment, and particularly with the second, I would have just asked for it to begin with.

Also, I HAD asked not all that long ago if there were any painkillers, one of the times when I still lived there. She said there weren't any. When did these vicodin magically appear?

Next, if they were ON THE FUCKING COUNTER when Robert got back, why the FUCK didn't she notice them before then? Why the FUCK does she suddenly credit me with superpowers AND stupidity, stealing two bras that wouldn't fit me and half a bottle of vicodin, only to magically transport the other half of the bottle to the counter in her bathroom much later, long after I'd gone? WHAT THE FUCK?

Look, Deb, I know you're getting alzheimers. Gods know you talked to me often enough about how worried you were when you were just starting to forget things. But no, now...

...now, first you accuse me of stealing money, then change your mind and say my friends must have done it, then accuse me of stealing drugs, then hint that maybe my friends did that...

...and you WONDER why I don't think going over there to work on websites, taking up your precious computer time and possibly being stuck there over-fucking-night, isn't an option?

I don't WANT to be there. I don't want to be the one you blame when you can't find something or when someone else messes with your stuff.

Maybe you're right, and maybe those two bras are back in my room there. I KNOW they are not here - I have one black trashbag and one small cardboard box full of clothing, and I've gone through both repeatedly, as have Ryan and Grr (and technically 'Stina and Scott, a bit, now). At one point I was going nuts WISHING I had a bra, and looking to see if maybe I'd overlooked one, but the ONLY thing I have is that damned blue sportsbra thing.

I'm not going into a household where I get accused of stealing, where I am not welcome or wanted.

I'm not going to deal with someone who has gone out of her way to accuse me of things I DID NOT DO.

And, although I love your son to pieces, I am NOT going to let you interfere with my relationship with him. I trust Caleb. I don't trust you, not when you've made it clear that you don't trust me. I love Caleb, and although for a long time I thought you were the greatest mother a person can have, I am no longer willing to let you be involved in our decisions.

I'm insulted, I'm hurt, and I feel as if one of my closest friends just stabbed me in the back... because that is what you did, effectively. Your 'conversation' with me while I was moving, your email that was nothing more than a handful more of poorly-disguised slams, your insistance that whenever something goes wrong, it's my doing, even if I'm not f'ing THERE... no. I'm not going to deal with that. I'm not going to accept that, not from you, not from anyone.

I wish I had words to express how deeply you've wounded me... and how angry I am... and sad I am... and how frustrated I am... all I wanted, at first, was an apology for your unkind and false accusations.

Now?

All I want is to get my mail, and stay as far away from you as possible. I...

...gods, I don't even have WORDS. I thought I had calmed down, but I'm still furious, absolutely furious.

There is no reason for me to take this, and treat you with respect and kindness, and pretend it's all ok. It's NOT ok. You've said yourself, the things you are now accusing me of are in no way like me, nothing I've ever done. You said yourself that all along, your instinct was that I was a good person.

Why is that changing now? I think I know the answer:

You're a two-faced woman, you are. When you see me in the company of ANYONE other than Caleb, male or female, and I seem attracted to them... boom, you fall all over yourself blaming them and bitching at me and doing your best to drive a wedge between me and whoever-it-is. I saw this happen with Scott, saw this happen with Ryan, saw this happen with the other Scott, with Kenji, with Vicki... hell, even with Mikey. Yes, he was stupid and pathetic, but that wasn't why you tried to get him away, was it? That's not why you hated Rob, is it? That's not why Rie feels unwelcome, is it?

You can't handle seeing your son be in a relationship that isn't your idea of perfect and safe. You get bitchy for a good week solid every time I get laid - I used to think it was just coincidence but I've given up that idea completely. Now that I've got somewhere else, now that you no longer have me under your thumb to make SURE I'm being the Perfect Mate for your son, you are even less happy.

I'm NOT leaving Caleb, but y'know what? It's certainly not because of YOU. It's because I love him, and trust his heart and his intelligence enough to know that he'll see your behavior for what it is: the same sort of manipulation you accuse me of, the same sort of two-faced behavior he and I both agreed to put aside when we first got involved.

I will never lie to him about who I am with, what I am doing, or why... nor will he ever lie to me. I won't do anything that I know would truly hurt and bother him.

However, and GET THIS THROUGH YOUR HEAD, WOMAN... he and I have a relationship both open enough and solid enough that other lovers, even other loves, will NOT break it apart.

So. Fuck off.

Because that call was enough to send me into tears, that you would even for a MOMENT think those things. Because you've either lied to me the entire time I lived there, or are lying to me now. Because you change your mind whenever it's convenient to you. Because you have made it DAMNED clear that you believe me to be something other than what I am, and that nothing I can say will change your mind.

I'll get my mail.

I'll make sure to get Sam out of there (although frankly, now that I've got the little knife Caleb gave me and a couple of the trinkets for her that Scott gave me, if you somehow 'lose' her, guess what, I won't be too surprised and won't be too heartbroken either).

And then I'll leave you alone.

That is what you want, isn't it?

If it's NOT what you want, you've got a funny way of avoiding it.

Bitch.

*pads off, shaking her head*