I'm throwing you all a curve ball with the name of this blog. The decision to use that particular title with a deliberate omission of punctuation, will be addressed. Read on, my friends, read on. The true theme of this installment is quite positive. It should be called "The Luckiest People in the World." Even that title is a curve ball. (throwing these curve balls is the most exercise I've gotten in months).
Anyone who read my last blog knows what my little family has been through the last several months. I do have to say the outcome has truly catapulted us into that category of the Luckiest People in the World.
As I sat in an oncologist waiting room with my cancer-free healthy husband, that phrase kept ringing in my ears. We are sooooo lucky, fortunate, blessed. however you want to say it ....we dodged a big fucking bullet. The oncologist waiting room is not a place where you want 'everyone to know your name"....you don't want to be a regular there. You don't want the workers there to look at you with that look and say "how you DOING today?" I know it's hard to convey it in print , but take my word for it, it was a different "HOW you doing today? " than we got. Lucky!
The sweet scarf headed woman playing the same game on her phone as I was, I'm sure was not thinking "why can't I get past this fucking level??!!" Damn Candy Crush game. Other than being stuck on level 65....Lucky!
But that being said...that isn't where I'm going with this. As unbelievably grateful as I am for our blessings....I am lucky for another reason. I am lucky because I GET IT. Now get your filthy minds out of the gutter and bare with me (hahaha bare), There is a group of people out there, and you know who you are, that get it! I also believe the people that GET IT, seek out other people that GET IT.
For those of you reading this and are saying ...oh I get it, enjoy the ride. You know what I mean. Those who think they maybe get it but are not sure...read on. Those who are already offended by anything I have said...stop...go back and watch anything with Tim Allen in it or that Big Bang show(now I just don't get that show but everyone else does) Anyway....
TO GET IT:
You must be able to weed through all the bullshit of everyday life and stop taking the wrong things so seriously. I don't think you have to go through life altering events to realize this either. Although that does give you the kick in the ass you may need. The people that don't get ( it in my opinion) use these event as crutches and not as learning experiences. Just check Face Book. Speaking of FB, how funny is it when someone is ranting about something or bragging about how great they are or kissing some one's ass and 75% of their shit is misspelled .".thanks for being their for me....your the best"....snicker snicker...if you find humor in that...you get it!!!
Now I know what you're thinking....what makes you so fucking perfect and I know you're thinking it. Well I'm not....I make tons of mistakes....(not so many grammatical ones thanks to my junior high school English teacher) but I giggle at some taking themselves so seriously and not taking the time to re-read what they wrote. I work at a school and I will spell check my name before I send it out on something that you can't unsend. But don't just rely on spell check folks because..... many years ago we received mail from the Department of Education in Albany and the envelope was stamped "ATTENTION PRINCIPLE" They used the wrong one!!!! GET IT??? cuz not too many people did until I pointed it out..."your principal is your PAL" Thank you Mr. Noworyta!! All those who got it join me in a resounding "doy-ee".
Now another way to get it is to be able to quote an awesome movie at the most appropriate time or ideally, an inappropriate time. Here's a test: while in a group of people quote something from The Producers or any Mel Brooks movie and see who laughs or if it's a massively inappropriate situation, see gives you the eye or the look. The look is half mortified and half admiration....They GET IT!!!
Being able to communicate with your eyes is like the secret hand shake of those who GET IT.
I remember being at a class reunion...the mecca for people taking themselves too seriously. I was sitting with an old classmate who had become a what they used to call a Born Again Christian. In the distance I saw another old friend with inappropriate-ness written all over his face. I'm not sure what or how it happened, I may have even blacked out, but afterwards I recall hearing"thank God for those eyes MJ" Crisis averted!
There was a bunch of us who GOT IT in high school (yeah baby...getting it in high school). I had a good friend who I knew back then was lucky enough to get back in touch with after some 30 years and unfortunately lost about a year and a half ago. He was one of those lucky people got it and didn't who knew it. He is the one who said when he gets a pet he will name it Peeve so he can say "this is my pet, Peeve"....GET IT? He also wanted a dog named FIDO but would spell it PHYDOUX. Goofy kid stuff I know, but when we met up after 3 decades and he told me he was embarrassed but still laughed about that woman in Florida with the chimpanzee who she raised like her son and acted like a real human but unfortunately tore the neighbor's face off, I knew he still got it. Now no one thinks that the act of having you face torn off is funny at all...honestly I think its horrific...but a monkey driving the family car and having lobster for dinner with the occasional mood altering pharmaceutical chaser is a little funny.
Just a little...no? If you think no and think somethings should not be made fun of...I'm sorry. I truly apologize and agree to disagree as they say....but those of you who felt their lip creep up in an almost smile, congratulations...you are one of the luckiest people in the world....you get it!
People have told me I'm going to hell....not in anger like, GO TO HELL...but with some concern for my warped soul and my inability to keep my wretched thoughts to myself. So I decided to go to the top with this and went to the closest thing to the top that I could think of. I went to church. Truly worried about my little soul, I asked a priest if he thought I was a sinner or at the very least a terrible person for making inappropriate comments about hardships to make others laugh...I mean " Father, it really is about the humor." He couldn't help but smile and he said he thinks God understands, He made me this way.....GOD GETS IT...whaddya know!
So all my peeps that get it and we know who we are....WE GOING TO HEAVEN BITCHES!!!
Heaven will be all about my favorite thing....sitting around with a bunch of us lucky people, taking a situation and beating the shit out of it with exaggerations and nonsense ...crossing the line...moving it and crossing it again. I will be with all my favorite people...especially my children because they too get it ...it must be inherent. Oh yeah and there will be an open bar!!!
In September I will be starting over again in a new school after 19 years. I was the one who was already there for the new lucky people to "click" with. It usually takes about 12 seconds and then you are...BFF's. There is some comfort in knowing that there is a group of lucky people... who get it located in my new school where ever that may be. They are there waiting there for me to say something inappropriate, I just know it. I look forward to the eye rolls from those who never saw Blazing Saddles and to the nod of approval who think the phrase "wed woses... how womantic " is fwiggen hysterical. I'll know I'm among some of the luckiest people in the world....Those who enjoy finding the obscurity in life ...considering SCTV a religion of sorts...being able to dish it out AND take it. Being able to laugh at yourself and laugh at others but being savvy enough not to hurt any one's feelings which you usually don't because THEY don't GET IT anyway.."Oh I get it...I get it...a very obscure quote from an even obscurer Mel Brooks movie and if you got that ding ding ding you are one of THE luckiest people in the world.....just sayin.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Friday, December 28, 2012
527,040 Minutes...
Yes, I'm a musical freak - I have been told I have "Musical Tourettes"- bursting in to the appropriate song ( usually Broadway) at any given situation....so yes, the final 2012 blog title kind of comes from the musical, RENT. Seasons of Love... "525,600 minutes how do you measure- measure a year?"
There are 525,600 minutes in a year. 365 x 24= 8,760 x 60, yeah I did the math. Well this mother f**ker of a year had an extra day-an extra 24 hours, an extra 1,440 minutes.
Now for those who have read my rantings this year, know that I thought that 2012 pretty much sucked. Oh it had some fine moments, some sweet memories and lovely connections with some wonderful people....but the majority of it just plain sucked with a capital F. I am not going to rehash the past and I do have a theory of why it was so awful (it has to do with last New Year's Eve and the responsible party has been contacted).
I did go back and forth about a title for this final blog.. like Apocalypse Now What? or I Did it Mayan Way ..or just plain WTF is Wrong with Everyone.
But then this happened:
The events of the last 37 days, the last 888 hours, the last 54,280 minutes made me change my mind. I lived a lifetime in the the last 37 days. The only way to make any sense of it is to break it down in minutes.
So I say good bye to you 20-fucking 12...as AAA tows my son's car away because it won't start...you had to get one last one in didn't ya.
I am ready for a great new year .. "we got a lot of livin' to do"...told ya..musical tourettes...
And as long as Tim Horton's makes coffee, Jack Daniels makes whiskey and we are still getting those fancy little prescription pain killers... I can handle what 2013 has in store... but I am breaking the pills in half now---just sayin' Happy New Year!
There are 525,600 minutes in a year. 365 x 24= 8,760 x 60, yeah I did the math. Well this mother f**ker of a year had an extra day-an extra 24 hours, an extra 1,440 minutes.
Now for those who have read my rantings this year, know that I thought that 2012 pretty much sucked. Oh it had some fine moments, some sweet memories and lovely connections with some wonderful people....but the majority of it just plain sucked with a capital F. I am not going to rehash the past and I do have a theory of why it was so awful (it has to do with last New Year's Eve and the responsible party has been contacted).
I did go back and forth about a title for this final blog.. like Apocalypse Now What? or I Did it Mayan Way ..or just plain WTF is Wrong with Everyone.
But then this happened:
The events of the last 37 days, the last 888 hours, the last 54,280 minutes made me change my mind. I lived a lifetime in the the last 37 days. The only way to make any sense of it is to break it down in minutes.
- The minute I came home from work and hearing my husband say he has cancer. (the day before the day before Thanksgiving- the kick off of holiday& family & celebration time- really?...REALLY??)
- The minute you tell your kids their dad has cancer. Kids who lost their aunt 10 years ago to cancer. Kids who are old enough to know what this means. Kids who are all grown up but still look at you with those eyes like "you can fix this right?"
- The minute the doctor came in the room and told us that everything in life as we knew it is now different. It is now the "first day of the rest of your life"...his exact words. Now I always thought that was a nice phrase...a good positive, "you're gonna make it after all" phrase. But it took on a different meaning when the doctor said it. Everything is changed-it is the end of our world as we know it (fucking Mayans).
- The minute my whole family met in the pre-op room and put on those brave faces as we smiled and made jokes (cuz that's what we do) and we were all terrified.
- The minute the doctor came out to talk to us and told us how well it went and when the pathology report comes back (in about a week...A WEEK??!!??) we will go from there. Let's just hope for a speedy recovery he said and walked away and I knew he didn't really have the answers either.
- The minute that the old man in the white old man car slammed into my car as I drove home from a 7 hour day at the hospital. That was the day after the surgery, the same day some piece of shit shot up an elementary school. The day I couldn't hold it in anymore. I couldn't be brave girl any more...I was everything I despise...the damsel in distress..ick....crying in the rain over a minor fender bender (minor meaning two grand in repairs).
- The minute(s) the ever headstrong patient *peed *ate solid food *handled pain pills *walked and * passed gas (passing gas is a huge deal in hospitals...and yes it just as funny especially when you have the same maturity level as your 2 1/2 year old grandson . When I sat in the recovery room of the "lifesaving" colonoscopy it sounded like they were re-casting Blazing Saddles...donotlaughdonotlaughdonotlaugh). All those minutes allowed him to go home in record time.
- The minute you realize who your real friends are.
- The minute you buy a Christmas present not knowing if that is the last one you will ever buy him.
- The minute you decide to put that brave face back on and listen to the kids at school sing "Silent Night" and "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and not fall apart.
- The minute you get good news (Christmas Eve...God, you are so funny)
- The minute the doctor says the official words "you're cured"
- The minute you finally exhale!
So I say good bye to you 20-fucking 12...as AAA tows my son's car away because it won't start...you had to get one last one in didn't ya.
I am ready for a great new year .. "we got a lot of livin' to do"...told ya..musical tourettes...
And as long as Tim Horton's makes coffee, Jack Daniels makes whiskey and we are still getting those fancy little prescription pain killers... I can handle what 2013 has in store... but I am breaking the pills in half now---just sayin' Happy New Year!
Monday, November 5, 2012
A cool crazy life...
"This is not my life" is a phrase that has running through my mind lately. I know all the kids these days are saying F***My Life ...and with my love of the F-word, you would think FML would be my phrase of choice. But it isn't. I suppose it is because I'm not angry or fed up with my life...I am merely an observer on how bizarre-o life (mine or anyones) can be at any given moment. Sometimes these moments are cool, sometimes crazy.
I think a lot of the events of my life are inherent and inevitable. The schizophrenia nature of my life comes from the fact that my dad, the cool Bohemian artist who would listen to Bob Dylan at 2 AM and my crazy "what are people going to think" mom had profound influences on me.
So here I am finding myself in situations both cool and crazy.
For example a couple weekends ago, before the devastation of the hurricane, my daughters and I went to NYC. It was a perfect weekend. We hopped on a plane and flew down to visit friends and family. I don't fly a lot of places...I really don't really enjoy flying. But when I do, I always feel kind of cool....but on the inside I'm crazy. But this time, one of my daughters cornered the market on crazy. She isn't a good flyer is an understatement. Although there was no vomit....there was a 55 minute threat of it. I, being the good mother, pushed down my crazy to keep her cool. "oh that was nothing...just an air pocket or something" ...when really I'm thinking "mayday mayday ...were going doooowwwnnnn..." COOL and CRAZY ....PS.. the flight home was brought to you by VODKA MARTINIS.
So we land, grabbed a cab, devoured a couple Magnolia cupcakes and met my very good friend at 30 Rock . COOL. Later, that afternoon, we got our photos taken and showed ID's to have clearance to go backstage and watch a rehearsal of Saturday Night Live...whaaaaaaaaaaaaat ??? SO COOL!
Here I am looking at the stage where performers I've adored stood on. A stage that I would dream about being on ( c'mon, who hasn't) since the 70's. I'm standing in the hallway looking at a wa;; of pictures of all the hosts and musical guests when I hear a familiar voice. Oh it's just Tom Hanks...Tom Freaking Hanks.. COOLEST EVER....I'll say it : '''This is not my life"
So let's look at the flip side...a couple weeks prior to my SNL coolness I picked up my Dad (who is in the middle of recovering from knee surgery) to go to the store. He had to go to the store so he could return a box of oatmeal that he didn't want. Yup... oatmeal. I, of course offered to do it which meant handing him the $3.79 and tossing the box in the trash. But no, he had to tell the "couldn't care less"customer service person himself that the oatmeal tasted funny...of course it did ....IT'S OATMEAL!!!! CRAZY I'll say it: "This is not my life"
Sometime these crazy cool events are directly related which makes me think I probably bring all this on myself.
About a month ago I adopted 2 kittens from a rescue organization ...COOL. I was talked into taking 2 kittens, which didn't take much talking into I must admit. They are brothers and adorable and when I decided to take both kittens there was actually a round of applause from everyone because I wasn't separating them...VERY COOL. A few days ago I noticed that one of the kittens came down with a little cold. The lady from the organization offered to bring me some meds for him. So she asked if I would meet her in a convenient parking lot to make the pick up. A situation I like to call Breaking Sad.... on a beautiful sunny day for what seemed like forever I waited. What is everyone else doing today...I am spending my afternoon waiting for cat drugs CA-RAZY..Let's all say it: "This is not my life."
The more I talk to people, the more I realize that we all find ourselves in situations that are both crazy/cool. It just depends how you look at things. Almost immediately after commenting on how tired I was from our whirlwind weekend in the city and I have to start taking it easy, I found myself in Rochester ...on a school night no less to see Bruce Springsteen for the 14th time. Half my friends thought COOL...the others...CRAZY. As much as I sometimes hate to admit it, schizophrenic or not... this IS my life. I think the crazier it gets. the cooler it actually is. So here I sit blogging away...one little kitten sitting on my lap so cool while the other is tangled up in the power cord of my laptop...so crazy ....Coincidence, I think not....just sayin'
I think a lot of the events of my life are inherent and inevitable. The schizophrenia nature of my life comes from the fact that my dad, the cool Bohemian artist who would listen to Bob Dylan at 2 AM and my crazy "what are people going to think" mom had profound influences on me.
So here I am finding myself in situations both cool and crazy.
For example a couple weekends ago, before the devastation of the hurricane, my daughters and I went to NYC. It was a perfect weekend. We hopped on a plane and flew down to visit friends and family. I don't fly a lot of places...I really don't really enjoy flying. But when I do, I always feel kind of cool....but on the inside I'm crazy. But this time, one of my daughters cornered the market on crazy. She isn't a good flyer is an understatement. Although there was no vomit....there was a 55 minute threat of it. I, being the good mother, pushed down my crazy to keep her cool. "oh that was nothing...just an air pocket or something" ...when really I'm thinking "mayday mayday ...were going doooowwwnnnn..." COOL and CRAZY ....PS.. the flight home was brought to you by VODKA MARTINIS.
So we land, grabbed a cab, devoured a couple Magnolia cupcakes and met my very good friend at 30 Rock . COOL. Later, that afternoon, we got our photos taken and showed ID's to have clearance to go backstage and watch a rehearsal of Saturday Night Live...whaaaaaaaaaaaaat ??? SO COOL!
Here I am looking at the stage where performers I've adored stood on. A stage that I would dream about being on ( c'mon, who hasn't) since the 70's. I'm standing in the hallway looking at a wa;; of pictures of all the hosts and musical guests when I hear a familiar voice. Oh it's just Tom Hanks...Tom Freaking Hanks.. COOLEST EVER....I'll say it : '''This is not my life"
So let's look at the flip side...a couple weeks prior to my SNL coolness I picked up my Dad (who is in the middle of recovering from knee surgery) to go to the store. He had to go to the store so he could return a box of oatmeal that he didn't want. Yup... oatmeal. I, of course offered to do it which meant handing him the $3.79 and tossing the box in the trash. But no, he had to tell the "couldn't care less"customer service person himself that the oatmeal tasted funny...of course it did ....IT'S OATMEAL!!!! CRAZY I'll say it: "This is not my life"
Sometime these crazy cool events are directly related which makes me think I probably bring all this on myself.
About a month ago I adopted 2 kittens from a rescue organization ...COOL. I was talked into taking 2 kittens, which didn't take much talking into I must admit. They are brothers and adorable and when I decided to take both kittens there was actually a round of applause from everyone because I wasn't separating them...VERY COOL. A few days ago I noticed that one of the kittens came down with a little cold. The lady from the organization offered to bring me some meds for him. So she asked if I would meet her in a convenient parking lot to make the pick up. A situation I like to call Breaking Sad.... on a beautiful sunny day for what seemed like forever I waited. What is everyone else doing today...I am spending my afternoon waiting for cat drugs CA-RAZY..Let's all say it: "This is not my life."
The more I talk to people, the more I realize that we all find ourselves in situations that are both crazy/cool. It just depends how you look at things. Almost immediately after commenting on how tired I was from our whirlwind weekend in the city and I have to start taking it easy, I found myself in Rochester ...on a school night no less to see Bruce Springsteen for the 14th time. Half my friends thought COOL...the others...CRAZY. As much as I sometimes hate to admit it, schizophrenic or not... this IS my life. I think the crazier it gets. the cooler it actually is. So here I sit blogging away...one little kitten sitting on my lap so cool while the other is tangled up in the power cord of my laptop...so crazy ....Coincidence, I think not....just sayin'
Friday, September 28, 2012
Wake me up when September ends....
I borrowed this title from Green Day, my 2 1/2 year old grandson's favorite band (go figure). I do feel that these days Billie Joe Armstrong is probably having a worse time of it than I am...but it's my blog and he's in rehab so I'm using it.
It's hard for me to believe but just a little better than a month ago I was sitting on the beach. The beautiful Atlantic Ocean was at my feet. I would wake up and see dolphins and my biggest worry was making sure there was enough sun screen in my lip balm so my mouth wouldn't go all Jolie on me again. I was with some of the best people I know. Although all my kids weren't able to go, I did have my grandson with me. It wasn't perfect but it was pretty damn close. I read a book, I ate delicious seafood, had some drinks and tons of laughs.
I remember one afternoon in particular. It was hot, but not unbearable as it was earlier in the day. I was sitting with family & friends and can see my grandson playing in a little tide pool, laughing and having the time of his life. I turned to my daughter, the one who was able to make the trip with her son, the same daughter who spent the summer choreographing the musical with me, and told her to think back. I wondered if she remembered this one day at rehearsal when no one knew their lines and it was a zillion degrees in that theater and we thought we broke those damn tubular bells we borrowed. The show looked like crap and no one seemed to care but us. She did remember, so I told her to close her eyes and think back to that clusterfuck of a day. Open them, I told her and look at her precious little boy running on the beach of this breathtaking ocean on this glorious August day. We earned this vacation....we DESERVED this vacation!
Yep ....this is What I Did on My Summer Vacation Part II ( the original title of this blog), Little did I know this wasn't a reward for a busy, productive summer. It was: enjoy the sunshine sucker..here comes a big poop storm called September.
WeekOne:
Now when you work in a school, it's like you never grow up. The real world goes to work every day January to January. School people start in September and we get that same feeling we got as kids. The nerves, the anxiety, the dread...is that Jerry Lewis singing "You'll Never Walk Alone"? Well this year was different. I slipped on my new school shoes (yes, I still buy new school shoes along with new these are on sale shoes and new hey it's Tuesday shoes ) This year, though, it was the last first day of school at my school because the powers that be (I really hate that phrase) decided to close our school to save a couple mill. I get it, I'm a taxpayer but this is the school my kids went to. Hell, this is the school I came to in 2nd grade. So this will be a bittersweet year of lasts.
I had to face this like a grown up so as I took a big deep breath, I took in whatever was in the air and had the worst allergy attack ever. I say ever because I don't really have allergies or sinus problems. Well I do now. This was the first week of school and here it is the end of the month and my nose is still running. Week One blows...literally
Week Two: After about 7 or 8 second opinions (none to his liking) my dad decided to have that knee surgery we suggested he have in the summer so we can be around to help him. Nah...second week of school is better. My sister, the first grade teacher and I played hospital tag for a couple days. I took the keys to my parent's car (saying it would really help me out if I can borrow their car for a bit). The beck and call situation I put myself in is infinitely better than the "were those your parents that drove through the window of McDonald's?" scenario. Realizing that my dad being out of commission meant that the day to day operations of that house was shut down we had no choice but to roll up our sleeves and play parents to our parents. I cooked, I drove , I cooked , I drove. I took my mom grocery shopping which turned into a horrifying episode of Supermarket Sweep. "I need frozen vegetables ( frozen foods) I need powder (health and beauty) I need milk ( well that's by the frozen foods where we just were) oh and we need Pepsi ...and then she disappeared. OK GO...Find all those items AND your mother.... Tell her what she's won, Johnny!!!
Week Three: More cooking, more driving, more phone calls , more banking "this has been so nice seeing you so much... oh you don't have time for lunch today" ..... oh yeah, more guilt
Week Four: I am at work at the restaurant and get the following from the Mr. Text 1: I am going to urgent care Text 2: I am going to the hospital Phone Call 1: no answer Phone Call 2: no answer Voicemail 1: I'm on (breath)my way( breath) to the hospital. Phone Call 3: "can't talk to you right now we're pulling up to the hospital now."...all said in a voice I have never heard from my husband. Half whisper half moaning. WHAT THE FUCK?!!?
So off I fly to the hospital in my little waitress uniform. Now this is the second time I have left work to fly to the hospital in my little waitress uniform. The first time was a for fall on the ice and my kids called and said he was fine, and I met them there . This time was different. This time I had no freaking idea what I was going to find when I got there. Well I got there and he was standing in the ER...obviously having chest and abdominal pains. Deep breath...this is better than what my over active imagination had me thinking. Miraculously, within minutes of my arrival the pain got better, it down right disappeared. Wow...I had no idea how powerful my presence was...seriously...I'm like Mother Theresa. Although I doubt Mother Theresa would have downed 5 shots of cherry vodka afterwards. Anyway... we still had to stay, for what turned out to be hours, to find out what was causing this. The smell of hospital doesn't mix well with the chicken wings and beer perfume I brought in on my little waitress uniform. Ughhh... I hate hate hate hospitals, so add a dose of panic and fear and a Latino family with the little boy who hit his head crying next to us and the endless parade of unprofessional personnel ("you guys are waiting for the doctor and stuff"...a direct quote) slide over honey I need to lie down too. Turns out the man has a bum gall bladder. After a couple of days of we need to do surgery, no a procedure, no surgery, nah, we'll send you home instead. So they sent him home BUT he needs to have that thing taken out not later but sooner ...Oh boy bring on October!!! If I'm not mistaken, Green Day has a song called BASKET CASE....just sayin'
It's hard for me to believe but just a little better than a month ago I was sitting on the beach. The beautiful Atlantic Ocean was at my feet. I would wake up and see dolphins and my biggest worry was making sure there was enough sun screen in my lip balm so my mouth wouldn't go all Jolie on me again. I was with some of the best people I know. Although all my kids weren't able to go, I did have my grandson with me. It wasn't perfect but it was pretty damn close. I read a book, I ate delicious seafood, had some drinks and tons of laughs.
I remember one afternoon in particular. It was hot, but not unbearable as it was earlier in the day. I was sitting with family & friends and can see my grandson playing in a little tide pool, laughing and having the time of his life. I turned to my daughter, the one who was able to make the trip with her son, the same daughter who spent the summer choreographing the musical with me, and told her to think back. I wondered if she remembered this one day at rehearsal when no one knew their lines and it was a zillion degrees in that theater and we thought we broke those damn tubular bells we borrowed. The show looked like crap and no one seemed to care but us. She did remember, so I told her to close her eyes and think back to that clusterfuck of a day. Open them, I told her and look at her precious little boy running on the beach of this breathtaking ocean on this glorious August day. We earned this vacation....we DESERVED this vacation!
Yep ....this is What I Did on My Summer Vacation Part II ( the original title of this blog), Little did I know this wasn't a reward for a busy, productive summer. It was: enjoy the sunshine sucker..here comes a big poop storm called September.
WeekOne:
Now when you work in a school, it's like you never grow up. The real world goes to work every day January to January. School people start in September and we get that same feeling we got as kids. The nerves, the anxiety, the dread...is that Jerry Lewis singing "You'll Never Walk Alone"? Well this year was different. I slipped on my new school shoes (yes, I still buy new school shoes along with new these are on sale shoes and new hey it's Tuesday shoes ) This year, though, it was the last first day of school at my school because the powers that be (I really hate that phrase) decided to close our school to save a couple mill. I get it, I'm a taxpayer but this is the school my kids went to. Hell, this is the school I came to in 2nd grade. So this will be a bittersweet year of lasts.
I had to face this like a grown up so as I took a big deep breath, I took in whatever was in the air and had the worst allergy attack ever. I say ever because I don't really have allergies or sinus problems. Well I do now. This was the first week of school and here it is the end of the month and my nose is still running. Week One blows...literally
Week Two: After about 7 or 8 second opinions (none to his liking) my dad decided to have that knee surgery we suggested he have in the summer so we can be around to help him. Nah...second week of school is better. My sister, the first grade teacher and I played hospital tag for a couple days. I took the keys to my parent's car (saying it would really help me out if I can borrow their car for a bit). The beck and call situation I put myself in is infinitely better than the "were those your parents that drove through the window of McDonald's?" scenario. Realizing that my dad being out of commission meant that the day to day operations of that house was shut down we had no choice but to roll up our sleeves and play parents to our parents. I cooked, I drove , I cooked , I drove. I took my mom grocery shopping which turned into a horrifying episode of Supermarket Sweep. "I need frozen vegetables ( frozen foods) I need powder (health and beauty) I need milk ( well that's by the frozen foods where we just were) oh and we need Pepsi ...and then she disappeared. OK GO...Find all those items AND your mother.... Tell her what she's won, Johnny!!!
Week Three: More cooking, more driving, more phone calls , more banking "this has been so nice seeing you so much... oh you don't have time for lunch today" ..... oh yeah, more guilt
Week Four: I am at work at the restaurant and get the following from the Mr. Text 1: I am going to urgent care Text 2: I am going to the hospital Phone Call 1: no answer Phone Call 2: no answer Voicemail 1: I'm on (breath)my way( breath) to the hospital. Phone Call 3: "can't talk to you right now we're pulling up to the hospital now."...all said in a voice I have never heard from my husband. Half whisper half moaning. WHAT THE FUCK?!!?
So off I fly to the hospital in my little waitress uniform. Now this is the second time I have left work to fly to the hospital in my little waitress uniform. The first time was a for fall on the ice and my kids called and said he was fine, and I met them there . This time was different. This time I had no freaking idea what I was going to find when I got there. Well I got there and he was standing in the ER...obviously having chest and abdominal pains. Deep breath...this is better than what my over active imagination had me thinking. Miraculously, within minutes of my arrival the pain got better, it down right disappeared. Wow...I had no idea how powerful my presence was...seriously...I'm like Mother Theresa. Although I doubt Mother Theresa would have downed 5 shots of cherry vodka afterwards. Anyway... we still had to stay, for what turned out to be hours, to find out what was causing this. The smell of hospital doesn't mix well with the chicken wings and beer perfume I brought in on my little waitress uniform. Ughhh... I hate hate hate hospitals, so add a dose of panic and fear and a Latino family with the little boy who hit his head crying next to us and the endless parade of unprofessional personnel ("you guys are waiting for the doctor and stuff"...a direct quote) slide over honey I need to lie down too. Turns out the man has a bum gall bladder. After a couple of days of we need to do surgery, no a procedure, no surgery, nah, we'll send you home instead. So they sent him home BUT he needs to have that thing taken out not later but sooner ...Oh boy bring on October!!! If I'm not mistaken, Green Day has a song called BASKET CASE....just sayin'
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)