Friday, August 20, 2004

Immaculate Saint of the Car Crash

This week has been very long and hard, even though it was only a four day week, and this was only perpetuated when I typed three paragraphs of this entry an hour ago only to hit some mysterious SHIFT/F7 type combo and lost everything I had written (and have you ever noticed that when you write something in Internet Explorer and lose it, it is very hard to get it back? None of those things in EDIT up there really do anything. Fuckers). I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. And pissed off too. Don't forget Pissed Off.

A few shitty things (literally re. the poop entry) happened this week, including what I wrote about already, coming to back to hear that the Crazy Boss, otherwise known as Global Crackerhead otherwise known as That Asshole telling people I suck (and as an aside, he is currently screwing himself by telling people outside the company that he is a "Global Head" and he is not. He is an "Executive Director" and while it doesn't matter to anyone REALLY, it matters to the company, and I kinda hope he gets caught, but I digress) but I have sort of let that slide off my back, (I'm goosedown, baby) and gotten onto other matters. My real boss is very nice and kind and has never gotten mad or raised his voice and always treats me like I am on his side and not like an Employee Who Must Do Everything He Says. This week he even bought me a special stapler - with Gun Power! He was very excited about it. It sounds lame, but as an admin, I was kinda excited by it - I gotta say.

ANYWAY, the worst thing that happened this week was that my little mommy had a coughing fit and lost control of her car. The car started to swerve and she attempted to correct and spun around a few times, ran off the road and hit a tree. The airbags deployed, and she was momentarily stuck in the car, but she was not hurt and got out and stood there looking at her now totaled Honda. A kindly stranger (the best kind) came over while she totally lost her shit (understandably so) and consoled her while she cried. "It's okay," he said, "you can always get a new car." And between sobs she said "that is what my dad used to say!" Of course, her dad passed away suddenly when she was 21 and so this got her crying even more. He laughed. She said later, that is what her dad would have done. Once the ambulance and police cars and firetruck came (my mom deserves no less!) - he vanished. We have decided he was The Angel of the Car Crash.

Of course, my mom being a nurse she refused treatment. Because she is "fine!" No she "doesn't need to go to the hospital!" She is taking herself and her asthma home and having another cigarette, god damn it! Oy.

It is an understatement to say I am glad she is okay. I cannot even deal with THINKING about her not being here, and in the last year she lost her mom (and in the last three years my other gramma also passed away) and I try to put myself in her shoes and think about what will happen when she inevitably dies and I just lose my breath and can't even get a moment away from the thought without tearing up. I am an only child and while I have cousins and aunts and uncles and friends (thank god for them) - my parents are my family and the day one of them leaves this planet, I know a big huge piece of me will leave too. I am so thankful for my closeness with them both, and I KNOW how lucky I am to have two healthy/sane/cool (sometimes. Don't tell them I said so) parents. They just better stick around a Good Long Time to see MY kids (yikes) and become weird old people (or weirder old people) who watch the Weather Channel and Home Shopping and know too much about coupons and wear rain bonnets and house slippers and buy things in bulk.

I might even help them carry it home.


Tuesday, August 17, 2004

Sunsets and poop - a vacation story.

I'm back. Commence your joy.

Vacation was fun - it was campfires and shooting stars; long rides on the pontoon boat with a drink in my hand; the smells of Coppertone and Ban de Soliel; jokes at my mom's expense; pretty sunsets and rainbows (three of them!); floating in a tub reading my awesome book, etcetera. It was relaxing and low-key and very "vacation"y. Lay around, eat, drink, laugh = good times.

After 10 days in a small one bedroom house with various relatives, I am glad to be back. And I came back to the news that Global Crackerhead of My Ass waited until I was gone to express that he didn't not think we mesh well, and complained to my coworker about me. Of course, he went about it all cockeyed and now he looks like an idiot while everyone else here, including my manager, tell me how wonderful I am. Why must there always be a squeaky wheel? It just never fails.

Also, I came back to a lovely present from Elroy. A very neat and stinky poop right on the middle of my pretty pink bedspread. How do cats know how to do that? Of all the places in my apartment he could have pooped he chose the MIDDLE OF MY BED, as if to say; "How dare you leave me? I will poop where you sleep, lady! And you will ROO THE DAY when you went on vacation and left me here alone! To POOP! On! Your! Bed!" Ick. And also, Dear Makers of Shout Stain Stick, Thank You for being awesome and getting poop off my pretty pink bed spread. Will you marry me? Love, Emily.

Tonight Ned plays at the Midway, I hope it is fun. What will I wear? I am tired, I need a disco nap (tm My Dad) and I also have a Vacation Cold, I hope I don't sneeze on everyone and phlegm the place up. Because that? Would be gross.

Peace out.

because I said so