Family Friday

Gotta love non-committal people! I dated one on and off for about 10 years... and even though I finally cut him out of my life before the end of last year, I still can't escape these can't make and/or stick to plans kinda folks.

My goal for the weekend, my main objective, was to rid my house of any evidence of Christmas and finish getting my house and personal affairs in order, to free up more time to join the social world out there. However, my aunt who is never in town for long, and cousin, were supposed to come over tonight around 6:00 p.m. Even though their selfish nature truly gets under my skin, I still love them, so I decided I'd make room for a family night tonight.

Well... it's now 10 after 7:00, and they are nowhere in sight. I'm starving. My brother is starving. My mother is starving. I could have conquered at least one mountain on what used to be my desk in the office. I could have taken a nap. I could have worked out. I'd say I could have gone on a date... but I already made a conscious decision to put any encounters with strangers off a week while I work through my spontaneous fits of laughter from dealing with the ones who have attempted to court me as of yet.

Now the plan is for my mother, brother and I to enjoy a devilishly delicious pizza from the family-owned parlor nearby. And there goes my diet.

Do you think Judge Judy would hear my case if I sued my commitment-challenged relatives for making me fail to succeed in next week's office weigh in?

And Snow it Goes...

Unfortunately, the bad winter storms brought us more than just a lot of snow... they also brought us bad news. Despite the surgeon's impression that the nodes he saw during mother's mastectomy appeared normal, the pathology reports indicate there are more cancer cells that need to be removed. She must now undergo an additional surgery the first week of January. She is still having trouble with her blood pressure after last week's surgery, so I am very concerned about her having more anesthesia so soon after. But, we also can't risk allowing the cancer to grow and spread...

Over the weekend, I got the house cleaned and the bills paid. I was actually starting to feel a little less anxious and stressed. "I can do this," I thought. Until Monday came. Cancer is just an ugly little monster. It destroys the body, and constantly invades the mind. Just as I get to feeling strong enough to be strong for my mother, and strong for the family; just as I start to feel confident I can control the urge to cry at the most minute of things... I feel my insides constrict and the all of the air disappears from my lungs.

Why can't it just go away? Why can't we all just get back to simply living and loving? Why couldn't we have gotten news that they got it all? Why can't I get this out of my head? Why am I such a wuss?

Your friends don't know what to say to you and you don't know what to say to them. Family and friends are concerned and want to know the latest news... but sometimes you are just so sick of reliving it every time you give the report that you just want to scream! You don't feel like talking to anybody but you don't want to be alone either. You just want to talk about "normal," happy things... but you don't want to seem like a heartless, self-absorbed bitch either. You're angry. Sad. Scared. This is how crazy cancer makes you feel... .and you don't even have it! How the hell does my MOM feel?! I can't even imagine; and she will never truly tell.

Cancer Sucks

So mom's got cancer. For the second time. I can hardly begin to verbally recreate the onslaught of emotion that transpired over the last three weeks, so I'm settling for a juvenile summation: it sucks.



Monday, we took her for surgery. Because she previously endured extensive radiation with cancer bout #1, she had no choice but to have a mastectomy to combat the spread of disease. I will never never forget how I felt that morning. Seeing her so very vulnerable. Not wanting to fall apart. Drowning in the what-ifs cancer and surgery fill your brain with. Her surgery went well and for a moment I had high hopes that this was going to be as easy as cancer could possibly be. However, the next morning, her blood pressure plummeted to 66/40 and did not stabilize despite intravenous fluids and medication.



Today, she is awaiting lab results to determine whether her blood pressure issues are related to the surgery, or if she has an underlying heart condition that had gone undetected. There is a family history of heart disease and she has had high blood pressure most of her life... so the potential for difficulty is there. Obviously, I'm hoping it's simply the cancer we have to deal with.



Even though I've been down this road with her before, some 15 years ago, this time lends a sense of heaviness on the soul I just can't seem to shake. The twelve hour days at the hospital... the silent worrying... the uncertainty... the struggle to keep the tears from falling in front of her... and the never-ending "whys." Why her? Why now? Why cancer? Why does she have to go through it again!?



Keeping the family together, and keeping myself together was nothing short of exhausting. Thankfully, she got cleared for release, and I was able to get her home right before the roads here became too dangerous to travel. It seems as the proverbial storm calms... the literal winter one comes roaring through!

I was happy to make homemade lasagna tonight for my mother and brother to celebrate her homecoming. I set a nice table, lit the candles and Christmas lights, and let holiday music quietly fill the room. She isn't out of the woods yet, by any means, but she is home. And although we all know she is sick... at least for tonight she was just simply loved.

"And Then The Elephant Started To Tip Over..."

After work today, I went on mission "Perfect Christmas." A week ago, I had decided treating myself to a little Christmas decoration splurge was well-warranted. The last couple years had been a struggle, I hadn't treated myself to much at all, Christmas lights bring me a sense of peace, and, well, mom's got cancer and I'd like this Christmas to be special. My last stop was Hobby Lobby. I was wheeling my bright blue, strangely small cart stuffed with a small tree, a large wreath, garland, and ceramic Cardinal ornaments down the gift bag aisle when I head a loud thud followed by the sound of glass breaking. Another loud thud. More glass. Thud. Glass. Glass-thud-glass-glass-thud-thud-thud-GLASS!!!

Obviously something very bad had happened. And, obviously, many many things had broken. I knew this without moving my feet, or my little blue cart, from my shock-imposed position in the holiday department. I was afraid to look! A long stretch of silence implied that it just might be safe to peer around the corner and a little giggle snuck out of me when I thought of how much it would suck to be the person that took out $400 dollars worth of red and green trinkets imported from China.

"Oh my God! Are you okay mam?!" a frantic voice called out.

Okay. I had to look. It was my duty as a human... just in case they needed me to stop the bleeding, or, administer CPR or something... Thankfully, the woman who was impersonating the bull in the China shop was uninjured; but the same could not be said of an entire "end cap" display full of glass items and some giant cement-like animals that seemed to have nothing to do with Christmas.

After seeing a half-dozen people had come to her aid, complete with the store manager frantically zooming towards her with a wheelchair, I thought it best to leave the scene of the accident and get the hell out of there. As I headed to the check-out, I overheard her explain what had caused the mass destruction:

"I really liked this dog and I went to pick it up but it was too heavy. Then, the elephant started to tip over and I tried to catch it. I lost my balance and fell back into the shelves..."

It seems those damn elephants are everywhere!

Over the weekend, my mother's sister was unexpectedly in town. I had just left Chester's and was en route to retrieve my Saturday cheeseburger when I got the call that she was here. I didn't know if she knew and I didn't feel it was my place to tell her that mom has cancer again... so there was the elephant; right there in my cell phone.

My brother, mother, aunt and I went to dinner together. We spent two hours engaging in nonsensical conversation, covering topics such as: freakishly large fish caught in fresh water, clowns with lots of pockets, and childhood memories of vomit. Oh, and the usual "how ya been"s and "what are your plans for Thanksgiving." The elephant had come to dinner with us.

After dinner, my mother and brother got out of the car and went inside. I stood with the car door open about to ask what time my cousin was getting out of work and I saw the reflection of the elephant in my aunt's eyes. How is it that such a cumbersome beast can be so blasted sneaky?

A last minute decision led to a short trip out of town to visit my cousin and see his not-so-new place I hadn't visited yet. The nonsensical conversation resumed as my aunt and I travelled down the highway. But when she pulled into the parking space, she didn't turn off the car. She started telling a story. No wait, she was repeating a conversation she had recently. The elephant. It was right there on the console.

She told me she knew. I asked her if my cousin knew. Then we went into his apartment. Shockingly, more nonsensical conversation transpired. The elephant was back and I was left wondering if the travelling circus could use another performer. My cousin flipped through television channels, my aunt showed pictures of her grandchildren...

I couldn't stand it anymore.

"I know you know. It's okay to talk about it."

"About what? The giant elephant in the room?!" He replied.

Hodge-Podge Montage

Either my life really has been exciting, or (more likely) I'm just easily fascinated and hyper-sensitive to virtually anything! I have to choose between a half-dozen epic blogs, or a simple hodge-podge montage of the latest goings-on. Out of respect for whomever might actually read my blog, I'll choose the latter.

So here it goes:

Thursday, I had my first review at work. Originally scheduled for the 25th, the advancement of my review did raise my level of concern from none, to a little. One of my co-workers was supposed to have her review in my new slot, but she had to prepare for her visit with the coroner. Yeah, I work for a place that sends people to a coroner, that actually return alive. I thought the CEO and I would simply go into her office and shut the door, so I headed in there, only to have her say, "Let's go down to Erv's office."

Uh-oh.

Thinking the need for a "secret location" might imply impending doom, my concern level temporarily elevated to "a little more." But for some reason, once we sat down, I came to my senses and realized that the only two things that could require concern would be lack of incoming funding to keep me on staff, or maybe the woman's abrasive demeanor that I assist at times. Knowing that signs for incoming funding were looking positive, and that said woman's abrasiveness is apparent to everyone, maybe even especially the CEO... I sat back, relaxed, and took my last swig of coffee before giving my full attention to my rarely critical critic. Documentation on my review included the phrases: "extremely talented, passion for the welfare of others, incredible creative writing skills, fast-learner, consistently enthusiastic, positive attitude, exceeds expectations, completes tasks on time, excellent communicator." For a moment, I thought she might write "second only to Jesus." I appreciated her comments, and, for the most part, could agree... but I still have not evolved into a person who takes compliments well. Such an odd phenomenon to me! Although they weren't my words, I felt like a braggart. It was time for my standby tactics... deflection!

"I certainly appreciate that, thank you. But I must say, that without you giving me these great opportunities, I could not have accomplished all that I have." This was true. And, in my mind, necessary to say. Gratitude may have gone out of style in our "modern" society, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna give it up!

After our mutual ego-fluffing session, the discussion turned to retention. Ahhhh. The CEO and woman in charge of the financials of the organization have always been forthcoming about the funding challenges of the non-profit sector and have made it clear to me that my job is only guaranteed through the end of the fiscal year: September 30th.

Discussion of the status of existing funding sources, and pending funding sources, was then followed by the pivotal statement,

"What you are doing for us is critical to our mission."

Critical. Excellent! However, the emphasis on "you" eluded to the fact that someone on staff was doing things that were not critical. I suspect this person/position might be the one that appears to be training for the "Facebook Marathon," or writing a mystery novel titled, "What Time is She Supposed to Show Up For Work?" All the while I've worked there, I have prudently chosen to mind my own business regarding these behaviors. They are a tight knit group of 5 great woman, who were certainly content with the way things were before I arrived. Despite her unprofessional behavior, I truly like this woman; but I have secretly pondered how jaded I would feel if my job were cut instead of hers if funding weren't available for both, because honestly, she takes her job for granted. Easier for her to do, because she is married, and, therefore, is not the sole source of income for her household. Me, I'm just one of those people who likes to do my very best, no matter what the task. I simply find it more enjoyable. Add to that the tramautization of 10 months of unemployment-fueled financial doom... and you get a guarantee that I am going to bust my ass at work!

But how awkward will it be, if she loses her job after 6 years, and I get to keep mine after 6 months?

Things got even more interesting when the CEO announced her intentions to groom her current manager of finances to eventually take her position. Interesting because... she is the sister-in-law of the woman who might get the axe while I stay on.

And that's that on the work front. Moving on, albeit randomly...

Today was my cousin's birthday. Initially we weren't supposed to celebrate until Sunday, but my aunt sent me a text message asking to go to lunch for his birthday. Lunch?! Hooray! I didn't eat breakfast! I'm starving! We had a gloriously gluttonous lunch, complete with "Brownie Blasts." My once empty stomach was now uncomfortable bursting. I love self-torture.

After we ate, we happened upon a hot pink "Garage Sale" sign, and soon found ourselves on some sort of impromptu treasure hunt! It was getting to be late in the afternoon, which, according to my aunt, meant the "good stuff" was probably already gone; and for the most part she was right. But... at about the third stop, in the "rich people's neighborhood" I happened upon some items I actually wanted! I found an old weathered barrel, similar to, but smaller than the one I sweet-talked my mother out of and turned into an interesting planter; and two antique wooden folding chairs whose tone and tatteredness lent just the right amount of character that thrills coveters of all things old. Since the chairs had the right vibe about them, and, I'm inviting people over after my art show in less than three weeks, I couldn't have been happier! I scored all three items for a mere $7! Nice!

After returning home with my treasures, I briefly entertained the thought of travelling to see a "Loverboy" concert. Yep, I said "Loverboy." I had no idea they were playing (or even still alive) until I heard a radio interview on my way to work in the morning. I'm admittedly a fan of some of their take-you-right-back to the 80's songs, but my main desire was to satisfy the curiosity as to whether the lead singer was going to wear those infamous red leather pants onstage. However, my curiosity wasn't strong enough to motivate me to endure the tedious task of finding someone else who would actually want to go, nor the humiliation of ridicule from those who did not want to.

What did I do instead? Hold on to your shorts... I scraped paint from what must have been some blind man's previous attempt at painting the trim off of my garage windows. Oh, and I had a near two hour "teleconference" with an old boss and good friend of mine, covering such crucial topics as: how her relationship with the older man was going, her rollerblade marathon, my romantic life (or lack thereof), some bizarre story of her friend selling her underwear to a stranger for $200 in Vegas ten years ago, and whether or not our cats were clinically "fat."

Currently, I'm curled up on the couch watching "Whale Wars." A rather exciting episode, as they have rammed the factory ship and damaged their hull. Oh yeah! My weekend is off to a wild, wild start!

Wrapped up in my consuming work deadlines, and dizzied with elevated barometric pressure for a week straight, I failed to think of weekend plans! I'm sitting with Chester at 1 p.m. tomorrow... having a late afternoon barbecue for my cousin's birthday on Sunday... but what about Saturday night? I think I ought to look into that!

Devastation!

Laurens De Groot on "Whale Wars" just said he's going to spend some quality time with his girlfriend when they arrive to port. Doesn't he know that I am his girlfriend? Men. Such confused creatures they are. (wink)

So... I guess that's the it of it for now... but I sense serious Saturday randomness on the horizon. Don't say I didn't warn you!

Behind... Behind!

Yowza! It's been quite some time since I've verbally harassed the world wide web. I'd apologize... but I suspect some of you out there are rather grateful for the resulting silence! I'm so behind... that I'm even behind on my behind! Maintenance of it, that is. In essence of time, and celebration of laziness, I have decided to use bullets to update you on the goings-on of Mona:

• I chose to celebrate the 4th by cooking dinner for my mother (she had to work) and lighting off lame grocery store fireworks that offered more laughter than explosive delight.
• In case you didn't know... yeah, I'm single again.
• I had a birthday. The big 3-8. And, for the first time in a very long time, I actually enjoyed my birthday.
• My job is still going well, however, if grant funding does not come through in September... it's back to the unemployment lines!
• "Act Like A Lady. Think Like A Man" by Steve Harvey was given to me as a gift from my boss. I think they want me to find a husband more than I do!
• The elderly man I care for has been declining in health.
• An article I wrote for our organization was published in a local magazine.
• My personal laptop had an unfortunate meeting with a glass of ice water, courtesy of my dementia-riddled cat.
• The loaner laptop I have has a chronic illness of some sort (hence the lack of blogging).
• I'm doing another remodel, and decided that it would be a good time to scrape and repaint my garage. NOT!
• My immediate family and I are becoming closer since my brother moved back.
• This is the first year of my life that I can remember my father wishing me a Happy Birthday.

Basically... I'm at a crossroads. There are many things before me, and I'm trying to decide where to direct my energies. It's a good thing. Just too difficult to express in one blog after a twelve hour work day while watching "America's Got Talent" on tv. In fact, I almost considered starting an entirely new blog with a slightly different focus, but my computer problems are preventing me from doing much of anything that involves the internet reliably.

So once I've caught up with my behind... I'll try to provide a more ass-tronomically profound blog. Stay tuned.

Iris Eyes a Smilin'

Despite my brush with death via disgusting gastro-intestinal distress... I have had a fabulous week! There have been challenges... yes... but just like the iris in my garden, things are lookin' up!

Work has been a lot more peaceful since we've shipped off most of the grants we have been writing, and I've continued to earn praise from my boss; a critical plus, considering we may very well face budget cuts come September. My only "complaint" is that we have switched to summer hours which means no one works in the office past noon on Fridays. Normally I'd be singing "Glory Glory Hallelujah," but now I have to find a way to squeeze four more hours into my work week on another day. Unfortunately, that may force me to once again violate my "me-day" (Monday) and risk distraction while I'm in the studio. A small sacrifice after ten long hard months of unemployment, but after being asked to have my art in an upcoming exhibit, I'd really like to focus on what I'm doing and attempt creating my first "masterpiece."

M.N.G. and I continue to weather the little storms that come our way, and he still magically calms my troubled waters. Tomorrow night, he's taking me out for dinner, and then we are going to his parents house for family game night. His sister and husband, brother and wife, will be joining us. A big to do! I'm interested to see how this goes. So far, I get along with everyone famously, but I suspect his mother is trying to solidify our bond. Not a bad thing... I'm simply wondering if an intense interview is in store! And who's going to be the victim? Me? Him? Us?

I've worked out three times this week! (Last MONTH I worked out once.) Admittedly, part of my motivation comes from the jealous bitch that claimed me to be fat and ugly, however, the majority is my need to stabilize my mind. I'd love to tell you that I'm one who is dedicated to an honorably healthy lifestyle... but the truth is, I just do it to keep my spirits up and my anxiety down. Oh, and this time, to fit into a super cute pair of capris that are just a little snug on my hormonally plumped mid-section. Some other "excuses" I could use to keep my exercise non-plan going: my 20 year class reunion is in July, my birthday is in July, and M.N.G. is taking me on a camping trip in July (read bathing suit in front of people GASP!), and I'm spearheading a community event that involves competing against about 4,000 other people in various athletic events in September. I still doubt I'll attend my class reunion... but the other "excuses" are going to happen. Couldn't be a better time to get back in shape!

My brother, mother, and I have enjoyed some nice bonding time. The three of us haven't been together in over 20 years as a family, and he's really tackling her clutter! There's a dumpster in her driveway now, and I have no doubt that he will fill it. That's about 5 really long blogs... so I'll leave it at that.

I treated a girlfriend to a pedicure and lunch. She treated me with a tanning visit. I haven't had girly girl time ever! I really enjoyed it! She's been such a big support to me over the last few years and I couldn't make her engagement party. Having the opportunity to show her that I truly appreciate all that she has done for me and don't take her for granted meant a lot to me... and my toes look great too!

An exciting weekend is in store!

The Stranger and the Strangeness

So... my "dad" has called.

I'm not quite sure who would have given him my phone number because my entire family has taken the "just don't talk about it" approach to any paternal aspects of my life. Since everything was such a big secret, I am surprised that whomever gave him my number didn't first ask for permission.

But he's got it. And he called.

His message was pretty brief and neutral. Hearing his voice was quite strange to me, since the last time we spoke it was 1989. When he had called me then, I certainly wasn't emotionally ready to excuse him for his complete and utter absence in my life; nor was I mature enough to realize that he, himself, had his own inner battles. There were other "forces" preventing us from having any form of a relationship... and a cruel cloud of surrounding silence that neither of us fully understood.

When we spoke in 1989, I was devastated. Having my own father ask me how old I was, and when my birthday was, broke my heart. I couldn't comprehend a father not knowing when his own daughter was born. I couldn't comprehend his inability to simply say he was sorry. Knowing he had a kid out there somewhere... who could have needed him... who did need him... and simply carrying on with his life without a care in the world; how could he?


And now I'm a "grown up." Someone who admittedly has made her own serious mistakes. Participated in her own life tragedies. And most certainly, I'm tired of allowing this cancerous silence to continue. Now that I am someone who is strong enough to deal with the pain, resentment, and loss of my fatherless childhood... I'm ready to slowly let him in. I'm not going to say there isn't some level of fear involved. Having a relationship with my father could just as easily become hurtful, as it could become beautiful and rewarding. Healing.


Regardless of the outcome, he is half of who I am. Most of what I like about myself... I get from my father. This is what I have always found ironically profound. I internalized the denial of my father, as a denial of me. Add to that the failure of schools, and my family to support the creativeness that is so deeply ingrained in my very being; and you wind up with a confused little girl feeling unloved, unwanted, ashamed of who she is; trying to be something else... anything else... so that someone would love her for who she was meant to be.


We can't change the past, and that, to me, is the beauty of it. I don't have to spend months on end trying to make sense of the last 37 years without him. Trying to right all of the wrongs. Bandage all of the old wounds. I've got today, and tomorrow. I've got an open mind; a fairly healed heart, and a healthy willingness to simply meet the man who helped to create me. And hopefully, I'll find peace in discovering all of the things I didn't know, before I never get the chance.

Spinning

Holy hell is there a lot going on! I can't possibly verbalize the abundance of emotions I'm feeling right now. Just the thought of trying to is exhausting! So here's a brief inventory of my current dilemmas:

My 84 year old grandmother is STILL in the hospital. She has congestive heart failure, and lives in California... so visiting her is easier said then paid for.

My cat is doing better for now, but she is in some stage of kidney failure. She's gonna die. Right now, it's just a matter of on who's terms: mine or Jesus'. I'll find out what the vet recommends sometime next week.

The schooling program I have been jumping through hoops for for a year has become nothing more than a serious pain in my ass because the people in charge can't seem to send papers where they should in time. Classes are supposed to start next week. In support of my sanity and happiness... I think I'm going to scratch that plan off the list.

My relationship with Mr. Nice Guy, thankfully, is in a good spot. After a mildly neurotic and seriously awkward (for me) exchange of communications, it has now been officially established that we are an exclusive couple. However, with everything that is going on in my life aside from our new relationship, I'm concerned about him getting lost in the shuffle of my busy mind, thinking I'm a hopeless mess, changing his phone number, and boarding a one-way flight to Tokyo.


I sent a message to my Dad, suggesting that we meet sometime this summer. That was two days ago. I have heard nothing back from him.

My brother moved back to town. He's supposed to be staying at my mom's house, but... well that is a very long story. Let me just say that we are about to have an intervention of sorts, a last ditch effort, to encourage her to finally get her house in order. I'm happy to see him, and thankful for the opportunity to get to know each other as "grown ups," but I also have to take care of myself and have healthy boundaries. Because that is something I haven't quite mastered yet... this whole situation makes me a little nervous.

My new job is great, but there have been some sources of stress. Some are simply part of the natural process of settling into a new career, and others are the result of inefficient operating systems. I also have the reality of potentially losing my job in September, if we don't get much needed grant funding. My wounds are still rather fresh from being without a job for 10 months... so there is a legitimate level of fear associated with this. One thing I know for sure, is that I need to lay off the coffee, get some regular sleep, and make time to eat some damn breakfast!

None of this is more than I can handle. I just wish it wasn't all coming at me at once! I've done a lot of growing as a person, and was finally getting a good handle on the good, the bad, and the ugly that makes me who I am. Chaos is not my friend, so it is critical that I maintain some sort of balance during all of this. I just have to remember to... breathe. It wasn't that long ago that I had nearly given up on happiness. I had actually picked up the pen to write it off. But now that I've found it, and now that I have had some time to appreciate how beautiful inner peace and happiness truly are, I'm going to protect myself, and fight whatever battles are placed in front of me to the death!

Get Dizzy With It

We had another lovely day of cool air and drizzle. Not exactly the kind of weather that inspires you to conquer the world; more like the kind that makes you aim to become a professional napper, or an actor playing someone who's in a coma. Lucky for me, work didn't require much physical energy, just a lot of social shmoozing to recruit volunteers for the non-profit at the college "Service Learning" fair.

My ceramics time was being intruded upon by the volunteer event, and the rain was making the idea of forgoing my clay time rather tempting. I was also craving my Saturday cheeseburger... as I didn't treat myself to one last week because I had dinner plans that night. But, when I got back to my car, I realized that my cheeseburger money was in my pants pocket... freshly laundered and fabric softened. Pffft!

So off to ceramics I went. Feeling lazy, and certainly uninspired. All of my pieces had been glazed and were awaiting firing, so I was going to have to create something. I actually considered making a cheeseburger, because that was what my mind was dreaming of, but I was afraid I would chip my teeth in an attempt to eat it someday. For the sake of retaining my ability to chew, I decided to go with the ol' standby... a few more serving dishes. Easy. Brainless. Non-cheeseburger-fantasy-interrupters.

Suddenly, a few minutes after two in the afternoon, I became very light-headed, and thought I might pass out. There is nothing soft, or cushiony, in the studio... so falling unconscious and cracking my head open like a ripe melon did not seem like a good idea. There were only two of us there at this point, and I was too uncomfortable with telling LeeAnn how funky I was feeling. I hate drama. So, I kept it to myself. I tried to sit with my head by my knees. Tried focusing on breathing. Nothing was working. I've had these spells periodically over the last two years, and last summer I sought medical attention for those symptoms, as well as having pain in my chest. Unfortunately, I had already lost my job, so getting the necessary follow-up blood work to explore other possible causes wasn't an option. And... the Indian Medicine Woman Doctor Lady's constant insistence that I could be pregnant annoyed the hell out of me. I hadn't had sex in over a year, and having someone try to convince me that Jesus would choose me for his second coming, or I was gonna push out a toddler in a walker, was just insulting. I'll finally confess that I have been secretly concerned (for years) that I may be diabetic. I absolutely hate doctors, and always fear that I'll have some incurable, terminal illness, one that requires me to wear an Eva Gabor wig, and wish that I would have joined a band before I became bed-ridden. It's really rather juvenile... but it's my reality.

Here it is some seven hours later, and I am still not quite right. I had to cancel a visit from a friend to try and nap it off. I've eaten. Rested. Am still drinking water... Tried to hit all of the obvious causes: dehydration, low blood sugar, exhaustion. My last "episode" was within the last two weeks and occurred while I was walking down the hallway maze at work. Again, I was more worried about embarrassment, or an over-reacting do-gooder calling an ambulance and being socked with an astronomical bill... but I think I might have to deal with whatever this is... soon. I'm gonna have to hang up my chicken shorts, and go to the evil man with needles to find out what is going on before I pass out in public wearing ugly underwear. Grandma says you should always wear clean ones in case you get in an accident. I'm happy to report that I do always wear clean ones, but the thought of passing out in front of people is more horrifying than wearing dirty ones. Maybe not.

Anyway...

I did manage to muster up enough energy to move things around in my garage to make room for my brother's motorcycle. He's going to be storing some things in my garage and attic while he searches for a professorship job down state. We haven't been able to see each other much over the past several years, as he's been out of the country, and out of state until recently. The only large item I had to move was my old dishwasher; the only appliance this palace of a house came with when I bought it. I had been wanting to unload it since 2007, but my Honda Civic isn't built for large appliance transport to the dump, so there it sat, for almost two years. I wheeled it out to the curb around 8, and because I live in such an affluent neighborhood, it was snatched up before 9 o'clock! Hell yeah! I'd like to believe a poor woman with five kids picked it up to make her life easier... but I bet it's going to the scrap yard to get $5 worth of malt liquor. What do I care? It's out of my garage, and out of my life.

We can get rid of old shit that we don't have use for rather easily, but we can't rid ourselves of getting old. That's what sucks! When you get to a certain age, you begin to realize that things can start to go wrong; start hurting, stop working, and fall apart. I'm sure it's nothing serious. In fact, the only serious thing about this "gettin' dizzy with it," is my seriously immature phobia of doctors. (Oh... and the needles... do I ever hate the needles!) I've got a job now, so I'm out of honest excuses; and I've always said, "I'm not going anywhere. There's a few more people I'd like to piss off!" So don't you try to make a claim on my 90's era "Booty Mix" ill-chosen CD collections, or come after my new dishwasher just yet.

Week-end Update and Sexual "Snippets"

I confess to slacking a bit in keeping you strangers abreast of my goings-on, but I am happy to report that it is due to finding myself legitimately consumed with my new-found employment, as opposed to my former state of laziness.

This week I was able to put my wondering-mind skills to productive use, by concocting a mildly genius plan to score a much needed grant to fund a future project, and therefore increase the odds that a few of us, including myself, can look forward to an income after September ends. When you've spent the majority of your working life employed by those who do not appreciate your inability to see obstacles, it is beyond refreshing to find your solution-seeking brain is appreciated. I really think I have found not only a job that pays the bills, but a job that allows me to truly excel, and therefore bring increased success to the honorable organization that so graciously hired me.

Secretly, however, I have engaged in intermittent email silliness with my ex across the hall. He works for a separate, contracted establishment as well, so I don't think the thought police of the business that owns the building has us under surveillance just yet. Since running into each other over a month ago, we've gone to lunch, and have a scheduled dinner next week. He's a great guy, whom I get along with very well. We have enjoyed trying to piece together whatever madness transpired between us some 15+ years ago. I remember going to his sister's wedding and having his ex-girlfriend go bananas when he asked me to dance to "their song." I can't recall which one it was, but it was a Journey song. He remembers my ex flinging my car door open while he and I were making out in a parking lot after drinking too much beer at a rock-n-roll bar. Maybe that explains why my poor soul ex wound up marrying a half-crazy bitch.

I began today with my latest Saturday routine: fixing myself breakfast in bed, and watching "Mistresses." I was rather upset to see my pretend TV boyfriend sleep with his should be girlfriend's friend. Now what? Is that going to spoil my hopes that they fall deeply in love and have sex a lot so I can see him without his shirt on? I won't be a happy girl if that is the future story line.

After my exhausting morning of laying in bed eating breakfast, I took a nap. I might have felt some sort of shame for being so lazy on an almost-warm and sunny Saturday afternoon, but everyone I spoke with on the phone today had either already napped, or planned to nap within the hour. Sometimes we must seek comfort in our "sins" by rationalizing them with an "everybody else is doing it" thought process.

Once I got up and combed my hair, I prepared deviled eggs, and au gratin sweet potatoes for tomorrows Easter dinner at Grandma's house. She of course insisted I didn't have to bring anything, like she has every holiday for the last 20 years. Apparently I am not the only one in denial of the fact that I am a grown-up, and therefore capable of contributing to family dinners. It's nice to feel young, always... but not twelve! I love cooking, almost as much as I love eating, so I happily prepare at least two dishes for each and every gathering. In fact, I might seize this opportunity to unload some black olives that I will never eat and bump my offerings up to three.

Lately I have reverted back to my battle of deciding what level of comfort I am actually comfortable with regarding sex. It's that battle between maybe, maybe, wanting to find someone to actually co-habitate with and maybe, MAYBE, have a kid with... and... just enjoying the fact that I am a self-supporting, educated-decision capable, adult woman with her own "needs" that feels she deserves a little physical attention (read hot sex) once in awhile... if not once a week; and ideally once a day! And since I have chosen to take the "later in life" approach to entertain the idea of MAYBE having a kid someday, I have run into yet another challenge. Guys my age like to get vasectomies. Great! Now what's a girl to do? Seems my ex across the hall thought it necessary to randomly divulge the fact that he is "snipped." Now, I have no immediate intentions of claiming to be serious with him... but, what am I supposed to do with THAT information? Complicated. Life seems to get more enjoyable, yet spontaneously more complicated the older I get.

Although I did put all of my deviled eggs in one "basket," I have yet to figure out what to do with my theoretically reproductive ones.

And while we are talking about eggs, (yes this is a very twisted stretch of connection) have a Happy Easter my adorable readers!

Soapbox Confessions

I think to say you have "grown up" you must learn the art of forgiveness. I know most people expect you to grow up by your mid-twenties... but, hey, we're all different; and some of us really seem to like doing things the hard way.


I'm happy to say, that at the "young" age of 35... I truly started growing up. When we let the pain of the past wrongs, or the embarrassment of past mistakes control our minds, we prevent ourselves from living life in the present, let alone having any hopes for happiness in the future. Unfortunately, although time stands still in our hearts and minds... we still physically grow old. Bullshit, I say!

Anyway... I've had the pleasure of running into several people I hadn't seen in over 15 years, in the past several months... people that may have not seen me at my best. And how could they have? I was an emotional mess when I was young! And after talking with a few of them, most of us were! I might be turning into a "super sap" in my old age... but there is something truly beautiful, and liberating, about forgiving people for simply being human.


If you were to have asked me, even five years ago, if I would ever consider opening the lines of communication with my very absent father... I would have said "hell no!" and maybe even told you to kiss my ass! But somewhere along my journey through this crazy little thing called "life," I realized that every single one of us has had some sort of struggle, hardship, tragedy, or emotionally devastating event occur in our lives. I realized that maybe my dad wasn't a dad because he literally couldn't be one... maybe he didn't know how. I'm not going to say that his lack of involvement in my life didn't hurt me, and I'm not going to say that exchanging a dozen or so emails with him magically erases any past wrongs or regrets. What I will say, is that just about anyone will tell you that life didn't quite go the way they planned it to... and I don't believe that anyone intentionally makes bad choices. They do what they know... and do what they can.



Does this make it right? Of course not. But if we spend our lives keeping score of who was "right" and who was "wrong," who was "good" and who was "bad," we immediately slam the door of opportunity... the opportunity to love and to learn from other people. The opportunity to forgive. The opportunity to have peace and forgiveness; true happiness in our lives.



Yesterday does not matter! We cannot change the past. We can't change the things we wished we wouldn't have done or said, anymore than those who have hurt us can. But what we can do, is accept things for what they were... what they are... and forgive. Most importantly... forgive ourselves.



Of course I wish that things could have been this "easy" when I was younger, but if I hadn't gone through my own hard times, who's to say I would be the person that I am now? And although I do think it's sad that it took me this many years to be able to talk about those "terrible" things that held be back from being truly happy for so many years... I'm very thankful that I can now say, I just plain don't give a shit! I punished myself for things I had no control over, things I didn't do, things I didn't ask for... and if being blatantly in-your-face honest prevents someone from taking the hard, and painful path... or suffering a life in painful silence... I'll risk the gossip... the "oh my God can you believe?"s...



That's me. A peace-love-and-happiness-can't-we-all-just-get-along kinda girl. And if you haven't noticed, I'm not apologizing for that anymore. I'll proudly stand on my soap box and let you make fun of my obnoxious eighties hair, shake your finger in shame about the guy I shouldn't have slept with, or wonder why I didn't "make something of myself" sooner... because I know if you're reading this, you've got a big heart in you, somewhere (smile!)...


Uh-oh! That big fat clown is coming across the stage now with that big, shut-the-fuck-up cane...

Good Deed #10 Pictures of You

My contact with my "dad" has been a little sparse since I finally decided to allow him a little forgiveness and explore the other half of me that had remained so mysterious throughout my life. Apparently he had to replace his computer and that led to his gap in correspondence.

Letting my dad in my life wasn't an easy decision. He and my mother split when I was just under two years old, so I have no memory of being a "family." And I'm not so sure that we ever actually were one. During my childhood, I saw him just a few times... the last being when I was all of eight years old and in the third grade. I only recall one Christmas present, and one birthday present when I was very young, and a couple phone calls when I was 18. Not only was he physically absent, he was financially aloof as well. He never paid my mother a dime in child support. These days fathers can go to prison for that, but back then I guess it didn't seem important to the courts.

When my mother went through cancer in my early 20's, I recall being very bitter towards my father. I was looking for something to blame for her illness and had decided that maybe if he paid child support, maybe if he provided any kind of support... that she wouldn't have gotten sick. And boy was I going to be pissed at God if he took my mother, who loved and supported me as best she could, and allowed my father the blessing of life. He hadn't earned it, in my young opinion.

But time has marched on, and as I have made my own mistakes, I have realized that we are all capable of blunders in life. I realized that my dad certainly wasn't a superhero, and was in fact, simply a human too. All of the years of being swept under the rug had to have taken a toll on him... it had on me... and my brother as well. In fact, when my brother and I spoke the other night, he said, "I just don't get it. Here I have spent all of this time with my paternal grandmother; I have even lived with her, and she never once mentions my father." I'm not sure that we will ever confront my grandmother about the unhealthy silence she has guarded so stealthily for over 30 years. She's 87. Do I really want to unleash the painful beast and risk killing her with guilt that she may already feel? This is what silence does. It corrodes your soul. It leaves you in a state of perplexity.

Despite swearing my father off in my early 20's... and deciding that only a lump sum of back child support paid to my mother would allow him the right to ever "know" me, I now have an open mind, and heart. In his last message he asked for a photograph of me. I can't really explain why, but sending him a photograph of me seemed so very serious. Visions of him "seeing" me for the first time in 29 years conjures up very raw emotion. Will he cry? Will he be proud? Will he be able to still see the curious and happy little girl's face that he once knew?

It took me three days to finally send a picture. And although the resentments have been won over by a healthy mission to truly understand who I am and where I came from, a small part of me is understandibly hesitant to allow myself such a vulnerability. Somebody might get hurt from this. My grandmother. My mother. My father. Myself. However, I just can't be convinced that enabling this bizarre denial of my father... of half of me isn't more destructive.

I decided to send him a picture of me in my cap and gown on graduation day. A classic choice for a "parent." How he will respond, I do not know. Part of me wishes I could secretly be there to see his reaction, but I'm sure he will send some sort of response. I found out he is living in a nearby state, and because my brother is now unemployed and has time on his hands, I'm considering suggesting a trip to meet him by train. I can tell my brother doesn't like the secrecy either, and because my father is in his 70's, opportunities to meet him aren't going to be ample and endless. I don't care to have more regret in my life... and I'm strong enough to handle whatever end this story may bring.

Releasing the Ghost

I'm back! Safely returned from a two-day journey into the seclusion of the wintry wilderness. My dad's side of the family (minus Dad, of course), and a few friends rang in the New Year together in a semi-rustic cabin. We "roughed-it" in our long underwear, sleeping bags, sweatshirts, boots, hats and gloves. Most of us skipped out on technology and the fanciness of city life the entire time.

The place we stayed at is located on the grounds of a camp that was established in 1904. My grandmother, who turned 87 during our trip, was the camp nurse for some 30 or more years there. A legend in her own right. She took my brother and I there every August when we were kids, and it always brings back fond memories. Simply hiking the snow-covered trails, and snapping pictures of the birch trees while searching for driftwood, brings me a simplistic joy that I look forward to.

We shared many laughs. Some at the expense of my sauced-up brother, and others at the thought of eating the "poisonous" meatballs that had been left out over night. I got to spend some quality time with my three younger cousins, which was probably my favorite part of the trip. They are smart, talented, and very personable. However, we are so far apart in age, that life circumstances hadn't allowed us to spend much time together. The last night of the trip, two of them joined me in trying to spook the relatives that were inside with an illuminated resuscitation dummy head. (That's the "ghost" in the photo.) We were crawling through the snow, sneaking around corners, and trying not to giggle too loud. Just plain silly fun.

I debated posting a "recap" of 2008... but I decided to just let it be. It wasn't the best year for most of us, and 2009 is likely to be a bit of a challenge as well. I've decided to make the popular choice of hoping for the best and start this year fresh and new. In fact, I haven't made any concrete decisions, or resolutions, for this New Year of ours. I have some vague goals... and that's about it!

My immediate plans for January are to meet with the necessary people at the college to sort out my financial aid and select either "Human Services," or "Paralegal," for my path of study. I'll also likely be enrolling in the ceramics class I had taken previously. My remodelling "client" has asked me to work on a recently vacated apartment, and also assist her in marketing the one I had just finished. So... I have some things to look forward to!

I'm releasing the "ghost" of 2008, and I will not let it haunt me. I may reflect on the strange and funny things that happened, but I'm making a conscious effort not to dwell on the negative, or live in the past. Time continues to move forward, and I'm going to hop on board.

Married With Children

At 10:30 this morning, I went to June and Si's to do their housecleaning. They are the cutest couple! Si is 88, and June is 86. They have been married for 70 years! 70! I'm not even sure I'll live 70 years, and considering I haven't had a relationship that lasted more than 70 days in over two years, I'm not sure I'll ever be married for one year. Hell, not even one minute!

I couldn't help but admire the longevity that was contained within the walls of that house. Their carpeting has not a single stain, or wear pattern, and they have had it for 20 years. The console T.V. June left on from morning til' night, every day, for the last 22 years, just quit working. Family photos, trinkets, and heirlooms... all decades old, yet still in pristine condition. Their marriage... still going strong. They... are still going strong.

As I dusted photos of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, I began to wonder what I was missing. I currently have one photo of a family member displayed in my house: my mother. I have no husband. No kids. And surely no grandkids. Is this one of the secrets to a long and happy life?

Not only do they not make things like they used to, we don't appreciate things the way older generations do. I'll be seeing my own grandmother Wednesday, and I guarantee she will be wearing her light blue ski coat. The same ski coat she has worn every winter since I've been alive!

We toss away things so easily. Tire of them. Never have them long enough to begin appreciating them, because we are always in search of the "bigger," "better" one. This goes for people too! I love watching films from the early years, when a man met his future date's parents at the door, with flowers for the mother, and a nervous handshake for the father. Growing up in a single parent home, this scenario couldn't have happened in my teenage years... but the thought of how differently things would have been fascinates me.

June had asked me if I was married. She asked me that last time, but her memory often fails her. "Oh. I was going to ask if you had kids," she said. June comes from a time where having children without a husband wasn't common, so she didn't consider the fact that I could have been a parent. "I haven't found the right one," I said. "In fact, I'm not even looking anymore." Then June follows with the same sentence every woman over 70 says to me, "Ohhhh you've got plenty of time, dear."

Um. No I don't, June. She must not have a clue as to how old I am, and that's just fine. But I am very aware that my reproductive years are very limited.

I love children, and I definitely have the "what would my kid look like/act like" curiosity that I think most people have, but I have no "ticking clock." In fact, my "clock" isn't even plugged in. As much as I would love to provide my mother with a grandchild, I definitely don't wish to be a single mother, especially not an unemployed one, living on welfare. I'd like to have a few things working in my favor before I procreate. I watched my mother struggle. I felt that struggle. I struggled. I'm holding out hope that I'll be able to have someone there with me... and that it happens before I'm barren, or my mother isn't able to enjoy being a grandmother.

But... I'm unemployed, receiving $14 a month in food assistance, at serious risk of falling permanently behind financially, and not even dating. And the truth is... I'm quite comfortable with the "no-kids" thing. I think that would change if I were to truly fall in love with someone that would stick around long enough to knock me up. I know I would survive being a single mother... I'm just not sure my kid would, and I'm not going to gamble with the psyche of a child willingly.

Breaking news! I might be breaking my night-owl curse! I have managed to remain awake for a solid 21.5 hours... if I can't sleep tonight... for more than four hours... I'm going to start sniffing glue.

Humbug? Bah!

So this Christmas is a little grim financially... what are ya gonna do? As much as I would love to shower friends, family, and strangers with gifts, I just can't afford to. I've gotten some much needed emotional support from some very selfless people this year, and I would love to reward them with a cool gizmo, flowers, or a great book; but this year, my sincere gratitude will have to suffice. That's the natural cycle of things: the fortunate give to the less fortunate. Fortunately, I've usually been on the more fortunate side of things, so this is very new to me.

But I couldn't forget my grandparents, mother, or brother! And I have a couple younger cousins that I couldn't ignore either! Luckily, I scored some clearanced three-packs of photo frames at Hobby Lobby. They were $8.16 each, making the frames a mere $2.72 individually. I used my printer to produce copies of a photo of me in my graduation cap and gown and put them in the frames for the grandparents, as well as framing copies of a picture of my grandparents kissing on their 45th wedding anniversary for their daughters. Sometimes the sentimental gifts are those that are most appreciated, and I'm betting on that this year.

I truly can't afford to spend ANY money, but again, there were those I could not forget. I also printed some photos from our family reunion and placed them inside family Christmas cards to add a sense of "gift" giving. It's hard when you want so badly to return the kindness and generosity people have shown you and you just don't have the means. UGH! Hopefully everyone knows how much I love and appreciate them and next holiday season I'll be in a better place financially.

The Latest...

So... I've been kind of busy, and of course, kind of lazy. Luckily for you, this means less incoherent babbling to sift through!

Despite feeling my apparently anxiety-fueled chest pains, and a bit of depression Friday night, I decided to stick to my plans to meet up with a friend on Saturday. I wasn't sure that I was physically or emotionally up to it, but we actually had a great time, and I was glad to have gotten out of my house!

Saturday: Chit-chat. Dinner at the Japanese restaurant... including "Monkey Balls!"

Sunday: Chit-chat. Shot photographs at the local park... until my batteries crapped out on me!

Monday: Researched graduation info. Errands with my friend, including a great sweater purchase! Ruby Tuesday's for breakfast/lunch/dinner... "brenchinner.*" Barnes and Noble for Pumpkin Spice Lattes and book grazing. Home. Scrabble Games. Two chapters in Microsoft Office 2007.

Also... I'm trying to plan for my graduation on Saturday. They limit your tickets and I need TWO more. I'm hoping to get them, because if I don't, I will have to tell my aunt and uncle that they can't come. The sad thing is, I have zero emotion about it really. Maybe that will change, but right now, graduation seems like an avoidable pain in the ass to me! My cap is too small, I don't have enough tickets, basically have to plan my own party, and the weather is supposed to be awful. WooHooooooo!??!?!?!?

A Griswold Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a time for good food, friends and family. A time for giving thanks. I shared the day with grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and my brother in the peaceful country setting of my grandparent's home; until...

Moments after everyone had gathered in the dining room, shutgun blasts were echoing in the background. In the city, this may have been alarming, however, out in the serenity of the countryside, we all chalked it up to holiday hunting or target practice. As the boom of the gun fire continued, the giggles turned to "Geees"s and "That sounds kind of close!"

My grandparents then engaged in their typical turkey-slicing tiff. "Where is the spoon?!" The gravy spoon was missing and causing quite a stir. Apparently, it had submerged itself in the hot gravy. As grandpa tried to fish it out, his paper-towel potholder caught fire!!! With each panicked attempt to extinguish it, the flames became more intense. Okay, so we'll call the cops and the fire department!

After the smoke and excitement settled, we all sat down to enjoy our feast. As I opened my napkin, something rather large and alien like was scurrying about inside of my napkin.

"Oh my God!" I shrieked.

In light of the gunshots and potential four-alarm fire, forks dropped and attention fell upon my hornet in the napkin. Grandpa came to the rescue and the hornet went to meet Jesus after meeting the bottom of his shoe. Bugs don't alarm me, in fact, I wouldn't have killed him. I just hadn't expected my extra guest to be crawling about in my napkin!

Once our bellies were full, we all dispersed throughout the house for coffee and conversation. My cousin was giving my grandmother cell phone lessons so she would be able to actually call for help, which was the intention of her purchase. Someone had recently broken into my grandfather's garage and stolen some of his tools. All was quiet and then...

Lindsey's 3 month old Jack Russell pup engaged in a chase with my grandparents seriously chubby and wrecking-ball-bodied boxer, who was also chasing the crazy cat. As the fur covered frenzy escalated, I suddenly saw panic-filled green cat eyes flying directly at my face! I'm going to lose my eyeballs!

Gasps and "Oh my Gods" again filled the house. What the hell was going on here?!?! Grandma keeps a very tidy, and controlled house. It is filled with antiques and Better Homes and Gardens charm. Her yard was featured in the Garden Tour. Am I in the right house? Have I accidentally sat down to dinner with the Griswolds?

And for the grand finale, when relatives began their goodbyes, and wrapped up leftover treats for midnight snacks...

"LINDSEY!!!" Uh-oh, Grandmother sounds mad. "Come get in here and clean this up. That damn dog has pooped on my carpet! That little shit."

After all of the excitement dissipated, we shared a few good laughs. Despite our Thanksgiving being a little non-conventional, it was definitely one I will always remember.

Have or Have Not; Happy Thanksgiving!

With all of the stress and uncertainty of the world and economy, it's tempting to lose sight of what Thanksgiving is all about. I'll admit to getting caught up in the fact that I did not have a dutch oven as I was trying to efficiently cook 6 pounds of sweet potatoes. As the sweet potato peels flew about in the sink, and I started my second batch of boiling potatoes, knowing there would be yet a third, I privately pondered why the hell I was doing all of that work. I recalled having a dutch oven when I lived in Kalamazoo. What the hell happened to it? Why did I pick the "pain in the ass" recipe? Why don't I have a great job so I can easily afford a dutch oven? TWO dutch ovens! I had three pounds of carrots to cook as well!

After finally finishing my tedious apple peeling, coring, and dicing for the 6 pounds of peeled, cooked, sliced, and mashed sweet potatoes... I looked around my kitchen. It was a mess! Spices, brown sugar, sauce pans, strainers, apple peels, potato peels, baking dishes, and butter cluttered the counter. As the delicious aroma of my "pain in the ass" potatoes filled the room, I realized how well worth the effort my dutch oven-less cooking was.

Life isn't about what we don't have. Thanksgiving isn't about what we don't have. Life is lived best when we make the most of what we do have. I did have the money to buy the sweet potatoes, apples, and carrots. I did have a large saucepan to cook the multiple batches in. I did have gas service to my stove. I had a stove. A kitchen. A house. A roof. And I have a wonderful family; a family worth every bit of frustration I may have temporarily endured to prepare my offerings for the Thanksgiving table.

Even when we have less than others, we still have more than most. Let us all be grateful for our food, shelter, family, and friends. Those simple things that we often take for granted. Let us all truly listen, laugh and love. And let us keep these "simple" things top of mind, not just today, but everyday. Maybe even think about those around us that do have less. Those who could care less about having a damn dutch oven, and would really appreciate just a sandwich to make it through another day.

I will now give thanks for each of you lovely people. Enjoy a warm and memorable meal with you and yours. Happy Thanksgiving!

The "Busy" Signal!

I'm still at a non-stop pace, despite my technically "unemployed" status! My remodel project will require me to return tomorrow. Oh, how I had hoped to not be working on anything but fixing delicious things to eat on Thanksgiving Day!

I spent the day cleaning a very beautiful home. My friend Todd's mother offered me the opportunity. Pat has been such a wonderful help during my unemployment. Very supportive and genuinely concerned that I am able to make ends meet. I am very fortunate to have both of them on my side through this difficult time.

My mother left this morning to spend Thanksgiving with her mother, my favorite grandmother, in California. I would have loved to have gone, but I do not have any money for airfare. My grandmother's birthday is on Thanksgiving, and my grandfather's a few days after. Mom's visit is a surprise, and I wish I could see the look on my grandma's face when she sees my mother at the door. I know she is going to cry! My grandparents are such sweet and loving people. Both have been in and out of the hospital over the last year, and are in their 80's. Visiting them is near the top of my priority list as soon as I am back on steady financial ground. I don't want the next time I see my grandmother to be at her funeral. The thought of that possibility just destroys me inside.

While mother is away, I am dog-sitting her three beasties for the week. The client I've been remodelling for, has asked me to also touch up the paint throughout the entire town home. Secretly, I am beyond sick of painting, but, the bills need to be paid, and I may need to rely on opportunities like this in the future, so I have to suck it up.

Of course, now that I have too much on my pre-Thanksgiving plate, people are coming to town, boys and friends are calling, and I am just too busy! I've fantasized about a busy signal playing when anyone calls, comes to the door, or tries to contact me in any other way. It gets exhausting explaining why you are unavailable... and I really don't have time to! I swear, I could sit around the house for a week, wishing there were something to do, and not a soul would call. As soon as I have more than enough going on... everybody wants to do something! Maybe that's just life.

I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving. As difficult as things have been for me this past seven months, I definitely have a lot to be thankful for. And if for some reason I miss a post the next couple days...

HAVE A HAPPY THANKSGIVING ONE AND ALL!!!