If you judge people you have no time to love them. ~Mother Teresa

I live in a state that on election night voted to pass a constitutional amendment saying that marriage is only between a man and a woman. It was amazing to me that I could be so happy and sad on one night. I was thrilled to see Obama become our president elect. In the same moment watching the polling results come across for Prop 8 I felt heart sick and ashamed of my state. It has been about 2 weeks since election night and I still feel confused and dismayed at the behavior of the majority. I do not understand why it was so easy for people to happily discriminate against another. No one I know would dream of putting something on their lawn that was against marriage between Blacks and Whites, or Jews and Christians, but many people I know were proud to put Yes on 8 signs in their yards. The other thing that boggled my mind was the number of minority groups that were Yes on 8. In my Pollyanna world I see people who have experienced discrimination fighting the hardest to make sure it doesn't happen to someone else. But then I remember that people have a need to feel better about themselves that usually comes by bringing someone down.

I am not going to argue religion or faith when it comes to this topic. I fully understand that the majority of churches would not marry a gay or lesbian couple. That is an argument between you and your God. You don't believe the marriage rights of gay and lesbian people? The answer is easy. Don't marry someone of your same gender. But you should not have the right to impose your belief on someone else. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice anywhere." I choose not to be a part of this injustice. I want to be able to look at my friends and my family and know I stood on the side of justice.

Feeling Proud of Myself...

I lasted for about 30 seconds last night watching Sarah Palin's speech. It was about 20 seconds longer than I expected.

My preparation for the 8 hour read-a-thon last night--two Cups of Coffee, 4 Tylenol, 1 round of stress relief yoga... Totally worth it

So my book of the week is Acheron by Sherrilyn Kenyon. I finished it last night at 2:10am and was thinking about it when I woke up this morning. I am not as verbose as other critics, but I would whole heartedly recommend this series. Especially this book. My only warning would be that the first 400+ pages deal with themes of physical and sexual abuse, and in some ways it felt like I was reading "A Boy Called It" (another great but difficult read). For those of you who shy away from romance novels but who enjoy sci-fi or fiction with paranormal themes I think you would enjoy this series.

I am now back to finishing "New Moon" by Stephanie Myers. No doubt I will be talking about this series next week.

Happy Reading!

So Many Books, So Little Time...

One of the joys of getting older is realizing that as much as I want to read for hours at a time my body won't let me. My back and legs become sore, my eyes get tired, and I get a migraine. I now feel like sleep is now more important than reading and that makes me sad.

I bring this up because I have been waiting for a book to come out (Acheron by Sherrilyn Kenyon if you were curious). I picked it up today during my lunch break, so excited to go home AT 5PM and read the night away. At about 1pm I realized the pain in my head is not going away, and admitted I was getting a migraine. WTH?!? Sometimes it feels as if the universe is fucking with me. I am now drinking coffee so I can feel well enough to go home and read. It is still in my eyes, and now I have coffee jitters. Getting old sucks.

Sometimes life gets in the way of blogging...

I have not forgotten this place, I have just been super busy vacationing and then trying to get back into the swing of work. Hopefully this weekend I can update you on the agony and extasy that was my July. Until then I will leave you with a quote from Family Guy which is one of my favorite shows:

"Dad, what's the blow-hole for?"
"I'll tell you what it's not for, son. And when I do, you'll understand why I can never go back to Sea World."
- Chris and Peter

J'ai besoin de deux billets de train pour couvrir D'Ail...

I checked my blog analysis tonight and noticed I had a visitor from Paris, France. Lecteur bienvenu! Hopefully this stated "welcome reader" and not something inappropriate. It wouldn't be the first time a french to english translator burned me. In 1999 I spent 5 days in Paris as I traveled on my European tour. I spoke no French and would butcher it like a serial killer every time I attempted to speak. On my last day I was at the train station trying to get to Cap D'Ail, which is near Nice. Some how I ended up asking for two train tickets to Cap D'Adge, which is near Spain I think. Either way it was a 12 hour nightmare of train rides trying to find to get to our hostel. Which by the time we arrived that night was booked. We ended up spending 4 days in Nice and to this day it remains one of my favorite places. So thanks reader for reminding me of such a happy memory. I need to finish cleaning for my guest. Bonne nuit.

Speaking of Cleaning...

I have a friend coming to stay with me for the next two weeks. Because I am a social cleaner, I have been trying to rid my house of clutter so that she doesn't see how I really live. Besides the joy of a a living room with no boxes (I moved them under the kitchen table), I found a gift card for Borders for 25 dollars. I also found an evil eye ward from a trip to the Middle East in 2000. I figured it would be good to have in my office, what with all the puppets facing me, so I placed it on my despair calendar. And thankfully I did not find processed meats in cabinets or drawers.

That's no maid, that's Dr. Sylvia...

I just spent the weekend in the first level of hell, aka Phoenix, Arizona. I am simply boggled that anyone chooses to live in a desert. Besides the heat (it averaged about 114), the sun was so bright that as I was carrying a casserole in to my friends house the foil covering burned my eyes. I felt like a freaking vampire for the 36 hours I was there.

You could probably tell I wasn't there to sight see, but rather spend some time with my best friend and her family as she visited her parents. Her mom was so excited she threw a big party, so all the women she knows could meet her daughter and her children.

In the best of situations I freeze up in large groups of people. So it was no surprise that given a large group of women speaking Arabic the entire time drove me into the kitchen. To keep myself busy (and to keep up with the mess) I cleaned dishes. Well apparently this made me seem like a maid, and someone asked my mom's friend how long the "servant" would be around. To which she replied, "That's no maid. She is my daughter (her catholic-single- nonArabic speaking- daughter, but nonetheless) and she's a doctor!" From that point on my friend called me Sylvia, the name of my own housekeeper. To be honest I was pleased anyone thought my cleaning was good enough to be considered professional work.

It's been awhile...

I have started this new "program" of waking up early to work out and going to bed early. Being a grown up is hard work. I am missing all the best tv at night. But I guess it's worth it to be to work on time (for the most part).

Speaking of work, things with McGee ebb and flow craziness. Recently, Supermommy came to see me and McGee was overwhelmed by her pregnancy. Which turned into a long discussion of her own children's births. MCGee stated she pulled her youngest child out of her va-jay-jay herself, so now I have this Lion King image of her holding the baby up for everyone in the delivery room to see. I have retold this story several times and have yet to tell it with out reaching down and simulating the pull-out process.

I guess it goes with out saying that I have searched out safe places to get my work done. I have found an office that no one is using and it has become my hide-a-way.

I have also been studying for my licensure exams. Or sometimes thinking about studying. I wonder if I will ever feel prepared for this test. Sigh.

So far the best part of my late spring life has been selling blueberries with my dad and other family members. It has been wonderful seeing my peeps and watching my dad socialize with everyone while he eats all the fair type food.

That sums up my last month of life. What's shaking with you?

Will Clean For Bacon...

Usually I only do major cleaning for company. This weekend I was cleaned for a new reason. To find the opened package of turkey bacon. I was living with hope I took it to work, but in my heart of hearts I knew it was somewhere in my home. It was found in the foil drawer (behind the foil which is how I missed it the first time), and immediately taken to the trash. Another successful cleaning moment.

God Bless Magee and have mercy on me

Thanks to my favorite aunt for my new mantra.

Thanks Economic Surplus Check..

I'm buying an ipod with my money. Anyone else have plans to stimulate the economy?

You Know It's A Bad Day When...

I started by waking up too late to take a shower (damn you benedryl). Walking up late also made me 10 minutes late to work. Instead of my usual walk of shame (I try to complete with no one seeing) I ended up walking into my office to find my boss waiting for me. I had to co-lead a therapy session first thing in the morning, and was asked by a small child, "who did your hair?" I realized then that I forgot to brush my hair. After being uncomfortable at work for an hour I also realized I put my underwear on backwards (thankfully not a thong). Lastly, I had to send two emails to my boss today because of screw-ups I did. All this and it's not even 5pm. I need a drink.

Sometimes I dream I hit the progressive...

I know this post is late but it took me longer than I expected to recover from 3 days in Vegas. I came home with .75 cents in my pocket and a kind of self-loathing that only comes from eating meals at buffets. Another thing Vegas left me was a sense of my own oldness. I could only stay up till midnight at the best, my drink of choice was water (because you need to hydrate in the desert), and my activity of choice was the nickel slot machine (the Wheel of Fortune one to be exact). I may be 29, but my inner age is about 76. I did love that slot machine. I was also constantly shocked by the amount of young children hanging around the strip late at night. One night I lost count of the kids 0-3 out after midnight. I don't care what the PR people say, Vegas is not a family vacation spot for me. But that may be because all I want to do is play Wheel of Fortune.

Before the trip I had thoughts of crazy adventures (because of course my life would be like a Vegas commercial), but then I realized my motto: Stranger Danger. So in the end I stayed true to my introvertness, and it was just me, a pregnant girl, and another girl who spent the 3 days sending angry text messages to her boyfriend. We were a regular bunch of "playas". All in all it was a fun trip, and I want to go back. I also have an addiction to slot machines that makes Vegas a once a decade town for me.

I'm not a therapist. I just play one on t.v.

I just went to a training on Autism and they showed the documentary, "Autism: The Musical."
It was a wonderful, emotional, honest, and compelling look into the lives of families who have children with Autism. I encourage everyone to watch it.

Speaking of mental health, recently there was a school shooting in the city I live in. A teenager was shot and killed by a police officer after he attacked the officer with a bat. Yesterday, my mayor brought the chief of police, the superintendent of the school system, and council members together to talk about mental health and the school system. Nowhere was there mention of a psychologist or a licensed therapist attending. How is it that so many people can talk (and make decisions that affect so many) about mental health without having the actual trained professionals present? I am reminded of a time when Clinton was still president and he assembled actors, and athletes, and all sorts of famous people to talk about mental health concerns in adolescents. Never one was there mention of an actual mental health professional attending the conference. As frustrated as I feel, this highlights for me the work that needs to be done to bring awareness of mental health concerns in an appropriate professional way. With trained actors playing the role of concerned psychologists of course.

Fear #457: Puppets

Soon I will be leading a preschool group as a part of my job. For this group we are required to use toddler-size puppets who are "group members." I am not a fan of puppets, and I am not afraid to say I am even afraid of them. I am not entirely convinced they won't come alive in the middle of the night and try to cut my fingers off. As someone who is almost 30, I get this fear is ridiculous, but thus far I have been able to control it by not being around minions of Satan puppets. The puppets for our new group arrived last week, and since I won't touch them, McGee got the job of putting them away. I expected them to be in a box, or in a cupboard. I did not expect them to be in chairs and shelves around the office all facing me. At first I thought it might be unintentional, but then I remembered who I am taking about. Because I don’t want to show more fear than I already have I pretend this is not creeping me out. My next step in overcoming my puppet fear is to find my “puppet voice” so I can begin practicing using them with kids. Right now the only “voice” I can think of is the evil-whispery voice little kids use, but I don’t think that will be conducive to telling a bunch of preschoolers the importance of sharing and being a good friend. I welcome any and all suggestions to overcoming my puppet fear and finding my inner puppet voice. Happy Friday.

Updated Fun TV clips...

For some reason I can't upload the video, but it's on You Tube. I thought it was funny.

So the previous clip is no longer up, so I am instead posting this which came from Ponch. Enjoy.
Is any one else thrilled 30 Rock and the Office will be back on tonight? I can't wait!

Words I Never Thought I Would Say At Work...

To a coworker- "I am sorry I accidently slapped your bottom. My arm was swing back at the wrong moment." Thanks be the coworker wasn't McGee, or I know I would have a sexual harrassment claim against me.

Because Many Hands Make Work Light...

I remember 3rd grade pretty well. My teacher was a dragon. An almost-nun who married a Pepsi distributor. The feeling I got even then was that she wished she had married Jesus. I can remember being terrified to enter 3rd grade because of her rep. And it takes a lot to really stand out as meaner than usual in a Catholic school. That being said, I never plotted to kill her.

Today the morning news stations were all abuzz with the news that several 3rd grade children were allegedly plotting to kill their teacher. Because she scolded one for standing on a chair (which is chump change in a Catholic school). The truly scary part was that this was an organized crime. Everyone brought an item to be used (handcuffs, a knife, a paperweight, duct and electrical tape, and ribbon). They even had kids assigned for look-out and clean-up duty. Some little snot nosed kid agreed to clean up the mess that would have come from stabbing and beating their teacher. Here's hoping all those kids begin therapy (especially the ring leaders). At work, all I can think of is what the kids are going to do to the snitch who tipped off the authorities. I mean, come on, if they wanted to kill their teacher for giving a command, what in the name of all that's holy will they do to the kid who got them busted?

No, I Don't Really Feel Lucky. Thanks For Asking.

An office manager called me to let me know I was "lucky" enough to be picked to attend a training at County Mental Health on how work their online training system. Then I get to come back and teach my new skills to others. First off, I am technology challenged (which is why this blog is so no frills). Secondly, the last training I went to at CMH I wanted to stab my eyes out with knitting needles. I need to remember to bring my knitting supplies. Just in case.

Maybe I Should Start Watching Prison Break Again...

Today I am mailing off my amended tax returns and the money I owe. Even though I have quadruple checked the forms (and my damn checks) I can't help but worry I missed something. Which means -worst case scenario: I will be arrested by the IRS (because they really want their $45.00) and sent to maximum security prison. And I can safely say I will not be okay in prison. I will have to kill someone to make everyone leave me alone. Then I will have to tattoo a tear on my face and I really hate needles (let alone prison needles). And I will have to learn how to make fried foods using nothing more than ground up prison meals I have smuggled back to my room, the oil from my unwashed hair, and a jimmy-jacked heat wand that was originally made to make tea. And thankfully I know in advance to avoid drinking the milk, so I won't get any diseases from that. This is all in my first week (of my 12 year sentence-which is what I am sure the judge will hand down).

Best Case Scenario: I will end up on a watch list for a while. You know, the she- can't-do-her-taxes-properly-and-we-need-to-make-sure-she-is-not-stealing-from-us list (SCDTPANTMSSINSFS for short). I am sure it will be similar to when I traveled to the Middle East one summer, and suddenly I was not able to fly without an orange sticker on everything (including me). This special treatment also included "random" searches of all my belongings every stop I had. Thankfully it did not include a strip search. The IRS doesn't strip search right?

Moral of the story-I am a pessimistic freak who doesn't have a lot to do at work today.

Serenity Now...

Did you ever have a day where nothing went right? Aside from being repeatedly told I was doing things wrong (and I have to say I hit a new high for the sheer number of people who corrected me). During lunch my spinach exploded in the office microwave and line of hungry women stared me down as I quickly tried to clean the mess. Just when I could see the light and it's time to go home a coworker tells me she googles me late at night. As I got into my car to go home I realized that this creepy moment is the highlight of my day. And I proceeded to set a measuring cup on fire as I cook dinner.

If I Had A Million Dollars...

Because McGee is currently in a meeting I am able to sing out loud in my office. This song always makes me smile.

Best Contraception...

Saturday I shopped and lunched with Supermommy and her kids. Her little girl has entered into the terrible 2's with 2 months to spare. She has a scream that stops people in their tracks. Or maybe just me, but either way you could hear her screaming her displeasure from 10 cars away.

For lunch we had bagels and juice. Supermommy warned me to look away, because while her daughter is many things a neat eater is not one of them. The first time I gave her pb&j I vurped a little. During this lunch she was pretty good. I think she was too hungry to rub anything in her face, hair, or ears. I did well until I saw her juice cup, with the floating pieces of bagel and the swirling globs of cream cheese. Supermommy lifted the cup up a little and swished it like a fine wine, letting the food particles float in the juice, looked at me and said, "Isn't this the best contraception you've ever seen?" I told her it was better than the health video I saw in high school.

Well At Least He Wasn't 70

Many who know me well know that I am shy and I attract the greatest generation. My theory is that these gentleman know I will take care of them. I am pretty sure my pheromones smell like oatmeal and Ben-gay.

Last night I talked to a horse of a different color. As I was in line waiting to order sliced turkey at the supermarket, a man initiated conversation. You know, usual, do you live here (in the city not the store), what do you do, and are you analyzing me right now? I learned he was a truck driver whose route is Salt Lake City to Oakland. He hates it when other truck drivers curse on the CB radio and he refers to African Americans as "Negroes." This last piece shocked me and I didn't know what to say (besides the 1950's are calling and they want their word back). I also learned that he is married with 2 daughters, and he's trying to avoid putting his truck on a scale (why I was afraid to ask).

I was happy with myself for talking with him, until it felt like he was following me around the store. Then I just prayed I would get out before he killed me and left small pieces of my body along 1-5. Sure he was a freak. But he wasn't 70.

Fan-freaking-tastic

I think this will be my word of the day. Maybe because there is a bee hive in my roof near my front door, and it is unknown when the people who remove such things will be out. Or it could be due to the fact that I filed my tax return early, and then forgot to include a W-2. The tax refund I was so excited about has now been made smaller by the money I now owe the gov't.

Big Girl Purchase Take 2

Today my new bed is being delivred. Hopefully this one won't hurt, but even if it does I have a trial warrantly. Wish me luck.

BYOZ

Yesterday my cousin got married. During the dinner my mom and I were discussing how great the food was. My mom said she was full, and then pulled a ziploc bag out of her purse. And proceeded to fill it with all the tri-tip and turkey she did not ea then put the bag back in her purse. It was good tri-tip.

*not sure why the picture of the wedding cake is tilted. Every time I look at it on my computer it's rotated the right way.

Lifestyles of the (possibly) written up and really creeped out.

How have I never had make-your-own honey roasted peanut butter before now? So delish I went back for more at Whole Foods tonight. Thanks to Supermommy for recommending it.

Something I could live without? The creepy guy at Blockbuster staring and smiling at me through the window as I droppped my movies off and then got back in my car. He didn't look away until I actually drove off. Glad to know I still attract the freaks.

Lastly, I may be fired from my job for a reason I had never considered before. I am not allowed to check personal email at work, and yesterday was so hellish I used my work email to send a message to a friend. Well she responsed back and because she used "sex" and dropped an f-bomb the email was confiscated before I could read it and went somewhere in HR. Fan-freaking-tastic. If I get fired before McGee I am going to be so pissed.

Well The Upside Is That This Probably Won't Be The Worst Day Of My Life.

My mother chilled in the parking lot of my office today for hours. Her car broke down and she called to borrow mine. I thought borrow automatically implied leaving, but what she meant was smoking in my car in the parking lot. When taking a break from smoking she came in and talked to office staff about how I have a wealthy g-ma and am just doing this work because I care. Nice. I thought she had left to run errands, and it wasn't until the end of her stay in my car that I realized how long she had been there.

At one point she saw Stanley coming out of a building and shouted, "Are you Carl or Stanley? Either way I am Lore's mom and I have pictures of you on my computer." Thankfully he realized that this was not as creepy as it sounded.

My mother is also beginning to hallucinate, so before she left she warned me to watch out for other cars who may now be tailing my car. Big Sigh.

My day also included a 3 hour shopping trip with McGee, who incidentally has no concept of personal space along with her lack of appropriate conversation.

This day ended with a migraine which was a total shocker.

Because It Takes A Village To Raise An Ape...

Last week I attended training for work. As if being trapped in a car with co-workers for hours on end listening to the sob stories on Delilah isn't bad enough, the training also blew chunks. The trainer was a crier. The instance occurred when he was talking about a research study concerning gorillas in a zoo. Apparently researchers swapped babies and mommas to see how temperament affects parenting (my first question is this: how you can you definitively talk about temperament in apes, and my second question is: did they take into account that some apes might be pissed at losing their babies and being given new ones). Apparently, the study found that it took a super-ape-mommy to raise a difficult gorilla-baby. If the difficult ape-baby was raised by an average ape-mommy or even a "bad" ape-mommy, then they became isolated and ostracized in their group. But, if it was raised by a June Cleaver-ape, difficult gorillas grew up to lead the group (cue crying) and save everyone from threats (like zoo keepers trying to take away their babies?).

The trainer then went on to talk about (and cry about) how Winston Churchill saved the Queen and her people in WWII (I think it was because he was raised by a super-gorilla).

The most screwed up part of this story is that I am a social crier, so every time monkey boy fell apart at the thought of super-gorillas, I cried with him. In case you were wondering, my training was on how to run a child group (using puppets no less, so imagine monkey boy crying about super gorillas while holding a giant puppet). Needless to say I feel ill equipped to do anything but cry about baby gorillas and the insurmountable power of the English people. Another successful training by I.Y.

I forgot to also mention that Monkey-boy had the flu during this training. After two days of watching him sweat or holding his hand to his mouth to stop the puke, he wanted to shake hands with everyone who finished the the training. Like I said it blew chunks.

Fabulous

My night ended with me struggling to remove the shirt I tied around my waist. It was stuck to the big wad of gum on my jeans Earlier this evening I sat in it while having dinner with friends. It wasn't discovered until I began walking away that the sound of laughter and pointing fingers became my guide to trouble. My friend first tried to remove it. Did I mention the gum was attached to a card board holder? We soon learned how much bigger the gum spot can become when you attempt to remove the card board it's attached to. So I tied a shirt around my waist. Fast forward to me in my living room trying to remove the shirt that was now stuck to my jeans. Thank God it's a 3 day weekend.

Happy S.A.D. And Screw You All I'm Going Home...


I get that I have offended Cupid. Probably due to my lack of a romantic relationship since Milli Vanilli was considered talented. I guess when you put your career over love, small babies with arrows get pissed. So far the highlights of S.A.D. -past included:

*The police ransacking my room looking for stolen goods that my brother "found" (aka stole out of the car belonging to a DEA agent).

*My mother checking herself into a psych ward, as a revenge tactic, then truly becoming psychotic. If I never see cheap cigarettes again it will be too soon.

While most people think today means hearts, flowers and all things beautiful, I just hope to make it through the day without an anvil dropping on my head.

This year the baby curse stayed true and I found myself stuck in an office for 4 hours with a coworker who I like to call McGee. Who, in case you read this blog, is the same person who told me that my eggs would turn to dust in 6 months and 16 days (not that I'm counting). Normally I can tune her out with online radio , fleeing to another office, or thoughts of alcoholic beverages, but then Cupid came to town. And I found out that I get to spend more time than normal with her every Thursday from now until retirement. As if I don't want to gouge my eyes balls out with a soup spoon enough. That would be a worker's comp right?

She stayed true to form today, and when talking to a woman who was African American, while watching a movie that had an African American woman in it, McGee says, "See she's just like you...(awkward pause in which I think WTF)... you know because she has two kids." Yeah sure.

The last and final blow to the grain of sand I call my dignity came when I spent dinner with my dad and his girlfriend. That's right folks, I was the third wheel on Valentine's Day. With my dad. Babies with Arrows, 3 Lorelai, 0. Game. Set. Match.

It's definitely one way to go about it...

I wouldn't know anything about annoying coworkers. Nothing at all. But, if I had an annoying co-worker (and was okay being fired for sexual harrassment), this is one way to get rid of him (or her).

And, if you were wondering how to tell a child their mother has died, this is not the way.

Thanks to Carl for YouTube surfing with me last night. We discovered thatBrokeTrek was the best of the Brokeback parodies. After we discovered there are a lot of Brokeback parodies.

"Ash Wednesday, the holiday during which Catholics mark the beginning of Lent by creeping out their coworkers." -Tina Fey

I thought of this SNL quote today when someone came into a morning meeting with ashes on her forhead. Being Catholic, this was expected, but I wondered what others thought. I hope that all my Catholics peeps are wearing the ash proudly, and not creeping out co-workers.

Laissez Le Bon Temp Rouler


Happy Mardi Gras! Remember- it's not worth getting arrested for indecent exposure over cheap beads. Even if Hulk Hogan is throwing them your way.

And don't forget to vote if you live in a state that's voting today!

Celebrating S.A.D. with sweet dejection




I usually don't buy myself a present for Singles Awareness Day (aka Valentine's Day), but when I saw these candies at www.despair.com I had to get them. I got a box for all my single friends, because I care. Today after super boring meeting I gave Stanley a heart that said, "a fine whine."

"Morpheus doesn't play football. He plays jacks."-Fishbourne's answer

I will admit I don't know much about football, and I only watch the Superbowl for the halftime comercials. That being said, what in the name of all that's holy is Ryan Seacrest doing hosting the Superbowl opening? Was Joan Rivers too busy? And why is there a red carpet? So far I have seen Roger Federer and a kid actor from Narnia. I've also had the pleasure of watching Seacrest ask Laurence Fishbourne how Morpheus would do if he played in the Superbowl. I think I'll watch the CW now. Lorelai out.

"But Daddy I love Him!"

I had a dream this morning that Marie and Donny Osmond were getting married (my dream took place in the 70's so imagine the clothes and hair). To each other. Their whole family was there to celebrate the union and everyone was happy. Everyone that is, except for their father, who kept shouting out bible verses and screaming how this was against God's law. Right before I woke up Donny and Marie agreed to get an anullment. Dis. Turb. Ing.

You Can Call Me Dr. Knownothing

More tales from the Midwest...

While my friend's youngest daughter was doing her best to give me the bird flu, her oldest was slowing but surely learning how incompetent I am. In my defense, I blame my parents.

During my visit my she realized that Halta Lorelai can't cook anything without a microwave (which they don't have). I can't read Arabic, and I don't celebrate Eid (I "make Christmas" as she told me). I also can't speak Arabic, and this was by far the hardest thing for her to understand. One day at lunch she turns to me and says,
"Halta Lorelai can you say television in Arabic?"
"Nope. How do you say it?"
"Television (said with an accent). Do you know how to say table?"
"Sure don't. Tell me,"
"Table (said with more of a french accent, but table nonetheless)."
And then she began teaching me how to say things in English. I tried to explain that I knew English, but it was too late. I was officially dumb to a 4 year old.

Every time she asked me about the things I couldn't do she would then ask, "But didn't your mommy teach you?" I had to explain that my mom doesn't speak Arabic, she doesn't cook Arabic food, and she makes Christmas not Eid.

On my last day as I gathered up my luggage I stopped to take one last picture of my friend in her home. I had this giant travel back pack on, and I stepped wrong and fell. I ended up on my back not unlike a turtle who was flipped over. On the way to the airport, all the girls could talk about was that time I fell.
"Remember that time you fell Halta Lorelai?"
"I sure do it just happened?"
"That was so funny how you fell all the time."
"It was once, but yeah it was funny. "

I Can't Wait Until She Can Say It With A Hallmark

I know this post is late, but I finally have time and energy to talk about my traveling over the holidays. My best friend has 2 little girls and her youngest was sick the entire time I was there. I knew it was only a matter of time before I too would be sick when her darling daughter:
-Drank from my cup. Every chance she got. Because my water always tastes way better than hers. And she was usually oozing snot as she grabbed my glass.
-Sneezed in the hummus, guacamole, rice, chicken, salad, and birthday cake (although I like to think I baked the sick out of it). The only thing she didn't sneeze in was my oatmeal. Instead she coughed in her hand and then flattened out my oatmeal.
-Sneezed in my hair and wiped her hands in my hair, as she was attempting to make my hair look pretty. I didn't realize she was even doing this until I saw the videotape her father was shooting. It helped to explain why he was laughing the entire time he was filming.
-As I held her to read a story she turned and gave a nice wet cough right in my face.

The first day I will admit I was grossed out. Not having kids, I forget that you have to be taught not to rub snot in other people's hair. By the end of the trip I was okay with the sneezing and coughing. I think that was her way of saying she loved me.

My second to last day as I was sleeping I heard the door open and the scampering of little feet Expecting someone to come and cuddle I opened one eye slowly and began to smile. Her youngest got really close and whispered,
"Halta Lorelai, guess what?"
"I don't know sweetheart. You tell me?"
"Your shoes stink."

To be honest I thought I was nothing more than a big kleenex to the child, and then the day after I left my friend called to tell me that her daughter woke up crying saying she wanted me to be with her. That's because I love them so much.

Tomorrow's post will be about how her oldest daughter thinks I am the dumbest person in the world.

"I felt like when I left home that I was on a journey, and I still am.”-Heath Ledger

I just read an article that said Heath Ledger is dead. I feel a weird sense of shock. Don't get me wrong, we weren't friends. But he does have the distinction of being the first age appropriate crush I had on a celebrity. I have always been into old movies, and it was hard being the only teen in like with Paul Newman, Cary Grant, and Rock Husdon (also hard-- being in like with men who liked other men, but that's a story for another day.) Heath was the crush I had who was born in the same decade as me, so he was special. May he find peace in the next part of his journey.

Disease of the Week
Pink Eye is slowing but surely traveling through the office. If crap in my eye wasn't bad enough, while on a school visit I heard a student say, "Teacher my head is itchy." Last week they had a "little lice problem" the teacher tells me. Apparently this week is twofer DOTW. Wish me luck staying healthy during double illness week.

What I Wanted To Say...

Over the last two weeks I had all these great things to blog about. The rest of my trip, the movies I have seen (please go see Juno and Once), and the joys of being polite in Borders. It was all going to be hilarious I'm sure, but aside from Arabic lessons and great food, my darling nieces also gave me their illness. Just my annual holiday sick making it's appearance. I am feeling better now, but am still really tired. The funny will have to wait until I can laugh with out coughing up a hairball.

And I Traveled A Long, Long Way...

For the last 2 days I have been in the Midwest awaiting the arrival of my best friend's new baby (or "my bay-bee boy" as her 2 year old daughter calls him). I thought it would be freezing here, so I packed only my warmest clothes. so far it has been a balmy 50 degrees here. I was looking forward to snow, but it feels like spring. Oh well, I'm not really snow people anyways. I saw something weird today. All through out the city they live in are wild rabbits. At first I thought some one's pet was loose, but then I was told rabbits are as common here as squirrels.

I have been gorging myself on Arabic food and any type of carb available. The Arabs I know believe you're not full until you've had a good 3 servings of anything. So my plans for weight loss are pretty much shot here.

Her daughters get that I am not Arabic, so they have made me their pet project. Everyday I have been learning new words. You know the important ones like, "I don't wanna!" and "Ice-cream now!" and "Mine!"

The down side to being the greatest aunt ever (which is what I am sure "halta" means in Arabic) is that I am the one they have been waking up in the morning to play and make cereal. My friend and her husband are loving this, but I could do with another hour of sleep.

Today, I played one of cd's while we were driving to the store. After Shawn Colvin's, "Fill Me Up" the 4 year old said she liked to sing the "Feel Me Up" song. This same daughter also asked me if I liked to sleep with other people (because she wanted to sleep in the bed I was in and not the floor). Not sure how to answer I said, "Sometimes." "Mama and Daddy," she said loudly to her parents, "Halta Lorelai likes to sleep with other people."

Merry Christmas To All...

Besides the fact that my mother inadvertently had CPS come out and interview my brother and his family, my Christmas went pretty smooth. I hope yours was just as good (without the CPS visit).

A Holiday Post

A couple of nights ago I watched Supermommy's little guy (L.G. for lack of a better name) perform in his first Christmas Pageant. It was basically 10 minutes of child wrangling, as children ran off the stage to say hi to their parents or get their barrettes fixed. L.G. did a great job of staying in his seat, and he seemed to have fun playing with his paper plate halo. Afterwards, I had dinner at their house and sat by the fire with L.G. snuggled in blankets watching the Christmas lights. I can forget how special and magical Christmas is, until I talk with him. We also watched my favorite children's show Wonder Pets. I am a dramtical person and if I could sing my way through life (in a high pitched voice no less) I would--so I love how these superheros sing their way through every adventure. The Christmas one is especially fun. L.G. even let me hold his Lego boat as we watched because it would, "help me see better." I told him holding it totally gave me clarity.

The day after Christmas I fly out to St. Louis at the butt crack of dawn to visit my bff and hopefully witness the arrival of her third child. Last week as I was talking to her to coordinate things, her 4 year old daughter got on the phone. "Aunt Lorelai," she said very intensely, "Don't forget (dramatic pause) to bring my presents. Make sure they are in your bag, because I want to play with them." I assured her I wouldn't forget. I may have to turn around and go back if I do.

Is It Wrong To Each Peanut Butter and Chocolate Ice Cream For Dinner?

I didn't think so either.

A Few of My Favorite (toxic-free) Things....

My goal this Christmas is to find presents for kids that won't kill or cause irreparable brain damage. I started looking online for safe toy companies and this is what I have found so far.

www.sparkability.com
www.green-living.com
www.owlnesttoys.com
www.oompa.com
www.planethappytoys.com
www.rosiehippo.com
http://www.kazootoys.com/

Feel free to post a comment if you know of more. Happy Shopping!

The Doctor and the Pea

I was so excited to get a big-girl job (a job that pays more than the gas I spend to get there), and I have been making a list of all the big-girl purchases I want to make. The very top of my list was a new bed. I have had crappy beds most of my life. I was giddy at the thought of getting a restful night of sleep. About 2 weeks after starting my job I woke up one Saturday morning in so much pain that I went straight to the bed store. I meant to be a good shopper and try out beds, but I made an impulse buy. The first night sleeping on my new bed was great, but slowly I have realized that my bed is so firm it hurts to sleep on. It got to the point I could only sleep on my right side, because every time I tried to sleep on my left I hit some crazy pressure point and would be instantly awake and in pain. To top it off I missed the deadline to return my mattress, because I kept thinking my body would adjust. Over the weekend two of the after T-day purchases I made were to buy pillow top mattress pads for my bed-of-steel. I have added an extra 6 inches of fluffiness, and finally my bed feels comfy. The downside is that my bed was high before, and adding the extra fluff almost makes it so I need a step to get into bed.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Thanksgiving

Because my family seems to be going crazy. And by family I mean my mother. Whose recent manic episode involved her robbing my dead grandpa's mobile home to get all the clothes and pictures (and God only knows what else) she could find. His old girlfriend was not home at the time, but all the people in the trailer park came out to watch. It makes me laugh that my mother's burglary was the event of the day at the trailer park. And the funniest part was my mother left a note telling the girlfriend what she had done, and how it was to help her move on. Note to self-don't leave a note when you commit a criminal act.

Thankfully, when the girlfriend got home (from the casino) she threatened to call the police if everything wasn't returned. Because she wanted to give the clothes away to her family members. It creeps me out that everyone wants his clothes. I don't get it. It's not that they want one piece for sentimental value, they all think they are getting a new wardrobe (my mom kept trying to push a bunch of shorts and socks on me). I am thankful everything was returned because it means I won't get a dead man's clothes for Christmas. No disrespect to my g-pa but I have no desire to wear his old walking shorts (even if they have elastic around the waist).

I am also thankful I will be traveling to the coast to spend Thanksgiving with my dad's family. Sure my brother and his family will be there to cause drama (like the fact that he is spending $700 to rent a corvette to the coast and leaving his g-friend and their kids to find a ride), but I will have the buffer of 20 other people to keep his crazy from me. There will also be lots of alcohol on hand to also act as a crazy buffer. I wish everyone a wonderful (and crazy free) Thanksgiving. Good luck shopping on Black Friday.

I Heart My Bed...

I have been traveling for work and for fun and I am so excited to be home again. The trips were great but there is nothing like being in your bed (unless your bed is really painful, then it rocks to be in hotels). More to come...

The Fart Fest

My dad has not been feeling well these last few months. I have taken him to the emergency room, and to out-patient surgery for different tests enough times to recognize the morning staff of his hospital. I have been terrified that 55 is the new 54 in our family. To make matters worse they couldn't seem to find what was wrong with him, which made everything scarier. I have done as much as I can to not think about my dad being sick, which means there has been a lot of stress eating (mmmmm chinese buffet).

On Friday I picked him up at 6am for yet another test. This time they were doing a colonoscopy and I was sure they would find cancer. I was in a funk all week trying not to think of the C word. After waiting for an hour and a half to get called back his procedure was surprisingly short. After about 20 minutes of scoping his insides the Doctor came in and told me it wasn't cancer or polyps, rather IBS and diverticulosis (which is the precursor to diverticulitis). Apparently having both is like a catch 22 of gastro-intestinal pain. But since it's not cancer, I can handle it.

I had been trying really hard to think of something funny all week. Apparently I needed to look no further than the recovery room where my dad lay resting. As I sat by him waiting for him to wake up, a nurse came up and said, "Would you like to see the pictures?" Before I could say no (which I would have done, since I really don't want to see his insides) this page was thrust in my face and she said, "Here is your father's anus and this is the camera as it is going inside." Holy crap she showed me a picture of my father being probed! Coming from a family that doesn't even use the word "anus", I was in a place of major inappropriateness and all I could do was try not to laugh. As my father became more awake I looked around the busy recovery room and noticed I was hearing weird nosies. It took me a sec to figure out what I was hearing was the fart fest that comes after a colonoscopy. My immature self thought this was hilarious and I couldn't help but laugh. The nurses became the cheerleaders of all the patients, encouraging them to let one rip and praising them for a particularly good blast. As I sat there, having people of all walks of life fart in my general direction, I couldn't help but feel like a fart was the best sound I had heard in a while. I was also very glad to have sinus problems and be unable to smell the love.

Happy Halloween!!



I hope everyone has a fun and safe Halloween! I can't wait to see all the little ones in their costumes! And I can't wait to eat left over candy.

I'm Good Here Thanks...

My mother is spending 4 days with my brother and his family. She has only been there for 2 hours and they have already been in 3 fights. My mother got ill on the train and my brothers kids have the flu. She has called me 5 times to report on the ill health of everyone in his house. And they wondered why I chose to stay home and work.

Yeah, I cried about a sex doll. And I wasn't the only one....

Go see Lars and the Real Girl and if you don't cry too, then you're a heartless bastard. Or you have faulty tear ducts. If the latter is the case see a doctor. Then go see the movie.

Getting Through Halloween With Your Brains Intact


Check out this funny link for surviving a Zombie attack. Thanks Stanley for sending it to me. Having a Zombie free Halloween is always a goal of mine.

Food Rules...

I don't have many food rules in life. Don't eat mayo casserole (or mayo pb and j, or any large quantity of mayo). Don't eat eggs that are undercooked. No cooked carrots, cauliflower or raisins ever. And lastly, (and this is the life saver) never eat sushi or salad at Chinese Buffet.

On Tuesday I tried to break the sushi rule and have a piece while eating Chinese Buffet. I really wanted it but 2 things kept the experience from being enjoyable. First is that I was having a late dinner and it hit me that I never saw any food being replaced or even taken away due to being out too long. Which made me wonder how long my roll had been out (I guessed about 14 hours). The second thing was that my piece was covered in Roe. Normally this gives me a slight twinge (because Roe falls under my under cooked eggs category). As I went to take a bite a clip from "Finding Nemo" enters my brain. I was done. The thought of eating Nemo ruined my Sushi experience, and all I could do was seek solace in the almond cookies and weird sugar covered peanuts (which tasted like peanuts, but did not have the texture of a peanut).

Last night I decided to once again brave sushi. There is a place right up the street from work that is a sushi bar, so I braved it with a co-worker. What we didn't know at the time was that it was a fast food Japanese restaurant who offered drive-thru sushi. Weird. The food was not half bad, but again I could not eat the Roe. Looks like I have another food rule. I really hope this doesn't generalize and I start to see Rocky when I eat chicken or Otis when I have a hamburger.

Why NASA Will Never Be In My Future, And Why Gatorade May Also Be Out...

As a kid, I thought astronauts were the cool. I mean really, they get a sweet suit and helmet, and the chance to float in a space ship. Even though they seemed cool I never wanted to be one (not even a little bit), due to several intense fears I associated with space travel. One fear was that the cable would break as I was trying to fix something outside the craft and I would die floating slowly away. Given my very limited abilities to fix anything it is very unlikely I would have been named head fixer-upper. But if in some parallel universe I managed to become a space gal, then it only makes sense that they would call on me to grab my hot pink wrench and fix the shuttle.

I am also not totally convinced that I won't just float off the moon either (I don't care how "powerful" the moon boots are reported to be). Lastly, (and most important in my book) I had fears about the bathroom situation in space-- you know it can't be too private or even slightly dignified (a goal in life has always been to put off wearing adult diapers for as long as possible, but that's just me). I now have one more reason never to sign up for NASA.

On Friday the early morning news program in my area reported a story in which NASA is coming up with plan to turn urine into drinking water (either plain or Gatorade flavored). While the thought of floating aimlessly in space is scary, having to drink my own pee to survive is just as yucky (even if does taste like punch flavored Gatorade). You know an even crappier (pun intended) job is the person who is the taste tester for the initial trial runs in the purification system.

“I consider looseness with words no less of a defect than looseness of the bowels”—John Calvin

At work I try really hard to be circumspect and respectful of others. For all my talking or long winded blogging I am even fairly quiet at work (or I try to be).

I work in a large organization and there are many people here I know in passing only. Which makes it even more embarrassing when I have word diarrhea of my own. Mine comes in the form of inappropriate jokes to people I hardly know (I wouldn't call it harassment, but I can't wait for my friend to finish law school so I can retain her services). Yesterday, I was speaking to someone in passing about a luncheon I attended a few days ago. Apparently, at the luncheon I was seated next to a retired gynecologist, and the lady with whom I was speaking mentioned he was her OBGYN for many years. She then said it felt like he didn't remember her. To which I said, "I would imagine that in his business it's not the faces he focused on, but he might remember the vagina's."

Call Me Irresponsible

You wouldn't be alone. This is what I was called today at work by my boss's boss. All because I didn't respond to email she sent me either today or last week. To be fair, when I spoke to her today her exact words (after I said I had been locked out of the email system for the past week) were, "(polite laughter) Oh and I was thinking you were just irresponsible." Okay so that actually doesn't sound any better. I too gave a polite laugh and assured her that as soon as I was able to I would be responsive to all email requests. When I hung up the phone I was in shock for a second. Am I getting the rep as the irresponsible one? And for something that is totally out of my control. I mean I know I won't get the rep for being the mouth (after all I do work with McGee), and she will also win for most empathetic and passionate about her work. But I thought I would be in the running for helpful or considerate.

The truly messed up aspect of this is that I can't even tell the IT person myself that my email is screwed because he is only available by email. I can't tell you how many times today I tried to tell people about my email woes and their response was, "well just send support an email." McGee herself many times today tried to have me check my email to confirm different things. When the IT came today to work on different issues, he was not directed to my area (even though I spoke with the person in charge of directing the IT guy twice in the morning). By the afternoon I called her again only to be told that she forgot I needed a computer tech because she forgot I had a cubicle (disregarding the fact I can't get in the system).

I felt like today was like a weird episode of "the Office." I ate lunch at my desk so I could spend my lunch half-hour walking to clear my head. Unfortunately this plan sucked on several levels. First, I missed a noon meeting (which I thought had been moved to 10am-I guess you can call me unreliable. Throw in undependable too). Second my quick lunch was a light meal of eggplant parm and noodles. Which made my peaceful walk more of a Michael Scott fun run moment. Luckily, there was no puke involved in my exercise. Or nipple chafing.

When I was talking to Carl his advice was that tomorrow had to be better, if for no other reason than it would not be Monday. Here's hoping. I also had to laugh as I relayed a comment McGee made to me when she came into my area to talk about all the talking going on in her area. She said, "I just don't like to talk in the office area." A major lie and I am surprised she wasn't hit with lightening or smote as she stood. I think she was just mad that everyone in her area was talking about Britney Spears, and not their cats or crazy neighbors (which are her hot topics). Here's to whatever the rest of the week brings my way.

The Latest Scoop About My Co-Workers

I had a weird smell day and I finally figured it out. A co-worker smelled like cat litter. Before I narrowed it down to her I was wondering if there was an office pet no one told me about.

Thoughts On Dusty Eggs and Still Having It
This weekend I became 1 year closer to turning 30. Looking back on the past year I have a lot to be happy about. This was the year I graduated and got a job with grown up benefits. I have not had a lot of negative thoughts on turning 30. I know this can be a hard year for some people, but for me 26 was a hard year. As a child that was the year I imagined myself married and with a child of my own (or more than one). I imagine 30 as more of a year I will do something incredible. Like have my ovaries crumble into a pile of dust. Let me 'splain...

Every year I have dinner with my friends. This is a celebration I treasure. Usually. This year brought a little something special. I have a friend who suffers from diarrhea of the mouth (let's call her McGee). It's an unfortunate disease but she is able to keep it under control most of the time. She is older than myself, and struggles with the expectations from her younger years. During dinner someone asked me if I was nervous about the upcoming 30th. I asked if I should be (trying to be funny and keep it light). That's when McGee broke in and said that most women are terrified about turning 30 because that's when they know they've lost all the good child bearing years. She then went into detail about how old and decrepit my eggs would become in 363 days (as she was talking I swear my eggs shriveled a little in horror of their impending doom). She then asked if I ever thought about donating or freezing my eggs. At least if I donated them, she said, I would get some cash. I looked around at my friends (who seemed strangely silent to me--which is a side effect of her disease) and stated that everyone was welcome to join me at the egg clinic (if such a thing exists) for my 30th. We could have a picnic as I unload my damaged goods.

Needless to say this got me thinking. Am I becoming old and decrepit before my time? Am I dusty? But at dinner the next night I found out I still had it.* As I was trying to find a table to have dinner with my father, I told the waitress I could sit anywhere. "Anywhere you say? This girl (yes he called me a girl-hee hee) is going to sit right here (pointing to the space between himself and another man)." Sure the man was 65 if he was a day, but hey, that's my flirting demographic. I laughed and told the gentleman to have a nice evening. Happy to be 29. Because the 28 year old would not have attracted a man who could afford to eat at a restaurant (my previous flirters were also homeless). I think this will be a great year. I say bring it 30, My eggs are prepared to dust themselves off and dance a jig. Or even a cool dance like the running man.


*I lost it two days later when someone at work asked when I was expecting my first child. But it was sweet while it lasted.

If you are a happy employee does that make you 'gruntled'?- Jack Handey

Here are the highlights from my first week at my new job:

*My office is only 4.5 minutes away from my home. Since 2001 I have had job with crazy long commutes, so I am loving this. Even being so close I have been 5 minutes late twice (okay today was closer to 10). In my defense I was dreaming it was Saturday and shut off the alarm.

*On day 2 coffee was spilled on my appointment book, so I threw it away. 3 hours later I had to dig in the trash because I realized I left something important in it. I found my book covered in coffee grounds and something wet.

*On day 3 I got the chance to clean a toilet (yeah it was an honor). This site has one bathroom for clients and staff to share. I went in to find that the person before me either, had no ability to aim at the toilet (but they did a good job spraying the walls, floors, and seat of the toilet), or they were just pissed, and well, pissed all over the place.

*I still find it strange to be referred to as "Dr." When I had to leave a message for voice mail it took a couple of times because I wanted to sound professional (as in not laugh) as I said, "You have reached Dr. Lorelai."

*Everyone is really nice. I was given a balloon yesterday to mark my my first week of work. This organization has been the place I wanted to work for a long time, so I have been really excited about this job. Although compared to another newbie, who fairly gushes with enthusiasm and joy, I look like Steven Wright. But inside I am happy.

*My new boss is actually my friend, Stanley. I went out to dinner with him and other friends twice last week and both times I joked about what a beast my new boss was. I know one day this joke will get old, but it is still cracking me up.

Well, that's my week so far. As of yet I haven't sounded too idiotic or asshole-ish. But tomorrow is another day.

In Other News

My new job starts tomorrow. I am nervous to say the least. Wish me luck. My prayer is that I don't sound like an asshole or an idiot (both of which are highly likely as they tend to be my reactions to being nervous). I am also praying I don't trip and fall (which is also highly likely).

I Survived (But I Did Have A Drink The Night I Came Home)...,

My weekend with my mom went better than I expected. I wouldn't call it the best of my life, but I got through it and had fun. To be totally honest it was an eye opening weekend for me. The things I was expecting (like for her to become totally stuck in the past or have severe hallucinations) did not happen. Instead it was like we switched roles. I felt like it was my job to watch out for her and be the grownup.

Some highlights included:

*My mother stopping on the street or any other public place to count the money in her wallet. She would actually pull the money out to do this. How we weren't mugged is beyond me.

*She would also become best friends with total strangers and would proceed to tell them her political/religious/food/cigarette preferences. Then she would try and draw me into the conversation. I am a fairly stranger=danger type person so I would simply smile and walk a few feet away until she was done.

*She burped at me about every 10 minutes. Mostly when we were in the car or in the hotel room, but in public too. The night she ate lobster and crab I almost pulled a Linda Blair. It was like being around my brother when he was 12 (minus the spit wads he would throw at me).

*On our last day she walked in to an antique shop and proceeded to break a lamp worth about a grand. She had a panic attack, but the owner said she wasn't responsible for damages (the lamp has been previously broken and repaired). My mom then told the owner she would buy something (but since she didn't have enough money I got to buy a small perfume bottle for 100.00. Which was a total rip off in my book, but I don't know bottles). In a way this was karma biting me in the ass because the day before I was holding on to a necklace for my mom and it slipped out of my purse somehow (and yes it cost around 100.00).

*Our hotel room was something out of a scary movie (thanks Orbitz). There was mold all over the ceiling in the bathroom. The door to our room looked like someone tried to claw their way out. and the bedroom area smelled like pine sol and funk. I imagine the person who stayed before us died, and the maid thought pine sol would cover the smell of death.

*She has also become really prejudiced towards others. I never noticed this before but when she saw someone she didn't like (Hispanic, Black, old people, Harley riders, teenagers) she would make a mean comment. Out loud. And the people were usually about a foot away from her every time. A little awkward. In my mind she was the female Archie Bunker. Surprisingly, she was okay with a lesbian couple she saw. She told me she thought it was neat that they could be open. At least she likes someone.

*I realized how tense I am when I am around her. Don't get me wrong, I think it is understandable to a point (especially since I never know what her reaction is to any given situation), but I don't want to spend the rest of my life being reserved and tense. Especially since mom spent most of the weekend talking about how I would eventually be like her and my g-ma (which translated to angry and bitter in her mind). When she would say such things I would pull a Whitney Houston in my head ("Oh Hell To The No!").

While we were going home she seemed to revert back to her hallucinations. It was painful when she spent a great deal of time talking to me about the cars that are following her and the people who harass her. I tried to get her to seek a new psychiatrist, but she told me she can't take those meds and she doesn't need them anyway (because she is not hallucinating). Until she gets so bad she needs to be hospitalized it is out of my hands, so I turned up my music a little louder and tried to think of other things.

After I dropped her at her house I went to the store and bought booze. I had a drink to celebrate getting through the weekend relatively unscathed. I then went out to dinner with friends.

Fasten Your Seat Belts, It's Going To Be A Bumpy Ride

Tomorrow morning I will be taking my mother to the coast for 2.5 days. Pray for me, or think good/peaceful thoughts. I am somewhat apprehensive about being in a car for 3 hours with a woman whose major hallucination is that people are following her in cars. This should be great. She called me today to tell me that "they" (the people following her in cars) have been quiet today. Hopefully they'll stay home this weekend. Yesterday when I found out for sure we were going I called a friend of mine because I knew he would understand the apprehension, hope, and guilt that goes along with having a parent who suffers from psychosis.

I have spent this entire week alone and I think it was because of what I will face this weekend (mentally gearing up so to speak). I hope she is in a good mood. I pray that I will have patience for when she's not. I also hope this weekend is something I can look back on with fondness. I have realized in the last few weeks (especially after my g-pa's death) that we have not had many fond mother/daughter moments. More than anything I hope this is a good weekend for her. That even for a couple of days her hallucinations take a break and that she can be happy.

I am sure I will have lots to blog about on Sunday. Or I will drinking too heavily to blog. At this point it could go either way.

Stories About Other People's Children And Trying To Save The World In Three Hours

Today Supermommy's little boy started preschool, and I am so excited for him. I remember how much fun I had in preschool, and I hope it is a positive experience for him. Last night I had dinner with Supermommy and her children and after dinner her boy decided he was Superman. He used a napkin as a cape and "flew" with joy all around. He then saw a man wearing a Superman shirt and about fell over. After dinner Supermommy walked up to the gentleman and said "Hi Superman." Her little boy was in awe over meeting his hero. Supermommy called him Super burrito (because we were in a Mexican restaurant) but he said, "No mommy burritos can't fly." He held my hand as we crossed parking lots for an evening walk all the while telling me about his super powers. One day he will be older and becoming Superman using only a napkin will give way to hanging with friends and playing sports. I hope his imagination always allows him to see wonder in the world.

Earlier in the week Supermommy talked to him about preschool and the chance to make new friends. He said he didn't need new friends because he already had some. Two of his friends are characters on the PBS show Caillou. He's more interested in playing on the playground. I hope he had a great first day, spent lots of time on the playground and met cool kids.

As we were walking off dinner last night I teased Supermommy about all the free time she will now have (all 3 hours twice a week). She joked about trying to save the world in three hours and it got me thinking. So here's my list of all the things she might be able to do with on one child in the house:

Read a book during nap time (which is of course my favorite thing to do)
Take a nap (which would be my next favorite thing to do)
Grocery shop with only one child (I still don't know how moms shop with kids)
Go for coffee (preferrably with me)
Attend a Gymboree class with the baby
Talk to other adults
Yoga (they have mommy and me yoga dvds)
Take a walk
Paint your nails (might be hard with a puppy and a baby in the house)

Feel free to add more. Lastly, I think first days of school are important to the parents too, so I hope Ponch and Supermommy had a good first day as well (and met lots of cool parents).

Thoughts On The Funeral

The minister's name was Hymen Wood. I smirked through out the funeral about this. He never met my g-pa and all he did was read the obit and then open it up to family and friends to speak out. Two days ago my mother, aunt, and cousin spent several hours with him telling stories of my g-pa, and he never mentioned one of their stories.

At the end of the end of the service he concluded by basically saying my g-pa was going to hell, as were all others who didn't believe exactly what he believed (which was the entire congregation minus one uncle who attends his church). I now think of him as as a worse name than Hymen Wood (which took some thinking because his parents punished him pretty good with that one).

During the service I kept looking at pictures of my grandfather still in shock that he is no longer around. I don't know when I will wrap my mind around this loss in my life.

Three friends came to support me and it pretty much made my day. The also got to witness the fam up close and personal. This may have killed any supportive feelings they might have in the future.

My mother's eulogy included a detailed account of how she told g-pa to walk to the light as he died. I get why she would do this, and had it been my own father, who's to say if I wouldn't have done the same. Nonetheless, I still get the image in my head of the creepy people in Poltergeist.

She also talked about how close my family is to my g-pa's girlfriend's family (two families becoming one was her term). This lasted until the reception when she began referring to the g-friend as "that bitch." "That bitch" was sitting about 6 seats down from her while the rant took place. Awkward.

Also during the eulogy she went on and on about how my uncle was now going to take care of everyone (aka her). As I prepare to begin my new job I have been making lists in my head of things I want to save for (house/adoption/new mattress). As she spoke I realized I need to start a savings account for her needs too. Luckily though there was no spontaneous singing from anyone (especially her) during the service.

Several people said lovely things about g-pa, and minus being told I was going to hell for believing in evolution (and space travel--what the hell kind of a minister was he??) it was a nice memorial.

During the reception, the soup course to be exact (tomato soup no less), my mother went into great detail about my grandfather's bodily functions and how this was how they knew the cancer was back. It will be along time before I eat tomato soup. A very long time. I was really glad to be sitting next to my friends. Because all I had to do was look at them and know that I wasn't the only one done with the first course. The rest of the meal I actively worked to block her out (at least until I was finished eating).

Goodbye Grandpa

I got the phone call today that my grandfather passed away. It is a blessing because as bad as I thought he was on Wednesday, his health steadily declined, and yesterday he slipped into a coma. Thankfully he died in his sleep (to the sounds of my mother telling him to walk to the light no less). When I heard this I had a picture my mother like the creepy old lady in Poltergeist.

Everyone is now preparing for the funeral. Apparently God either answered my prayers or He reads my blog because my mother decided not to perform Karaoke at the funeral. She will still be giving a eulogy, so my prayers are now that this is okay.

I am sure as days progress I will have a lot to blog about. Someday soon I hope to blog about my Sunday night. I went out with my dad for a couple of hours during his harvest. It was totally take your daughter to work night (and I learned that his champagne grapes are used to make Brandy which was cool). I am going to bed now to prepare for whatever tomorrow brings.

Jokes About Dying...

Yesterday I spent an hour with my grandfather. His health is deteriorating rapidly, and I know there isn't much time. This summer I feel like I have spent the majority of it trying to make my mom feel better, and I have not had a chance to process what his death will mean for me. Yesterday I got my first real taste of it.

My grandpa always seemed larger than life to me. It isn't that he is the biggest man alive, but he had a big presence. And he seemed indestructible. I remember once he wanted to drive me to college, because he couldn't really believe it was a 10 hour drive (it was I assure you-12 hours if you traveled with my dad). My g-pa and I made it in 7. I have never been so sure I was going to die in my life. He just kept laughing and saying this drive was nothing. He may have also been drunk (which he was often), but still.

We were close when I was younger, but grew distant when he and my g-ma split up. It wasn't until I was older that I realized most of the anger I carried towards him came from my mom's own feelings of rejection. It's funny the emotional baggage you carry for your parents when you are a child. I wrote him a letter when I graduated high school apologizing for my distance, but by then I was off to college and then graduate school. I will admit I hid behind the distance between us (telling myself I didn't want to be around a drunk driver to make it better). It just felt easier to keep things status quo. Now I wish I had been more accessible to him. The thing is, he never had a bad thing to say about me or my mom. He has loved us the same as ever. Someday I hope my mom sees that.

When I walked in yesterday and saw him in the hospice bed it really hit me. He looks like someone that is dying. He was also not wearing pants, and that was disturbing too (sorry if it is disrespectful but it freaked me out). We sat and talked for about 30 minutes before he fell asleep. I was not sure what the protocol is for this situation. Should I talk about how much I love him, and tell him thanks for being my g-pa? I chose to let him lead the conversation. And the jokes began. His g-friend came in and said she was going to by lotto tickets. He said something about winning the lotto and dying in the same week. To which I replied, "But it would be a hell of a funeral." Then I had a moment of panic. Did I just crack a joke about his funeral to him?!? Then he laughed and it was on. We spent about 10 minutes trying to outdo the each other with inappropriate death jokes. He won (I think he had an unfair advantage though--he has thought longer about his impending death than I have).

We also talked about my mom and his worries about her. There was nothing I could think of to reassure him, so I kept quiet.

When he fell asleep I left the room so I wouldn't disturb him and I sat awkwardly in his living room. I wasn't sure what to think so I tried to keep my mind blank of death and dying. This might have worked if the T.V. wasn't on CNN and the coverage wasn't all about people dead or dying from the recent floods. I focused instead on the family pictures scattered about, realizing how little I have known about my grandfather's life in the last 18 years. I also found out there is a hole in the floor in the living room.

His home health nurse came in and I left. As I kissed him goodbye he introduced my as his granddaughter first then he said my granddaughter, Dr. Lorelai. When the nurse heard this she looked up and said, "Oh a doctor! How do you do." and then shook my hand. Superficial Bitch. I told my g-pa I would be back in a couple of days. The nurse stopped me and said. "But aren't you a doctor? Don't you want to watch his catheter change?" WTF?!? A) Even if I was a medical doctor, there is no way in hell I would get near my g-pa's catheter region (I am making a circular hand motion in my own catheter region). It was bad enough he wasn't wearing pants, and I could see his underwear (and catheter drip line). B) I am not a medical doctor.

I laughingly explained, "I am not a medical doctor but a psychologist, so no I wouldn't stay in the room for any procedures, but if you had a big feeling about changing the catheter we could talk." All she said was, "Oh, you're not a medical doctor (with a sneer). Why would I have a big feeling about a catheter (said with another sneer)?" I said, "well you'd be amazed at how fast big feelings can come up." Like making jokes about death with your dying grandfather.

Check Out These Funny Baby Clothes. Seriously. They Make Me Want to Get Pregnant Just To Put Them On My Registry

I am digging these baby and toddler clothes. My favorites are:
I totally picture Supermommy's kids in this.

And...
Again this reminds me of Supermommy's boy, especially as he is about to begin preschool.

I spent about 30 minutes at this site yesterday, picking out clothes for all the wee ones I know. I also spent time imagining my beautiful pretend babies looking fab (as all my pretend babies do) as we hang with my pretend husband, James McAvoy (possibly having a pint somewhere in in the UK or Ireland.) I have nothing if not an active imagination.

The best part of my desktop shopping is that I found out you can get a free shirt for reviewing the site. As if that wasn't enough, the owner checked out my site and wasn't afraid of the lack of comments on my posts (especially since I told her that most of my readers just call me or send me an email after reading). She also said I was funnym which means she's totally become my new bff. So please check this site out because it comes from my bff (who just happens to make cool clothes).

"If the president is so serious about the war on terror, why doesn't he hunt down and capture Barack Obama before he strikes again?"-Jenna, 30 Rock

I went with Supermommy to the party on Saturday, and there's no easy way to say this, but she is an awful date. I mean I get she has 2 kids under the age of 4, but she also came with someone. All I am saying is that would have been nice if she had remembered that fact before she was home (and wondering about the car parked in her driveway). Luckily, it gave me a chance to talk politics with my dad and his gf on the ride back to my car. During the car ride we discussed universal health care and Hilary. I think we were both happy to reach my car and say goodbye.

We had already spoke of the upcoming elections earlier at the party when my dad announced he was pretty sure he was voting for Osama. That shocker made me spit my drink out so I could ask, "Don't you mean Obama?" Then he gave me the whatever look. He whatevered saying Osama instead of Obama. God help us all come election time.

I also overheard the b-day girl comment on the dessert choices. There are times when I want to be ignorant, and having my aunt compare her ice-cream to the big-O means I find my happy place. It was good ice-cream though (home made cookies and cream and the maker was generous with the oreos).

And last but not least I wore a new shirt to the party. I liked the color but thought it might make me look preggo (because it was was high waisted and loose, and I really have no waist). I will be damned if someone didn't keep looking at my stomach as we talked. And he kept asking how I was doing (as he looked at my stomach). Yeah, like I was going to freaking announce I was 9 months pregnant and oops my water broke. I wanted to be a bitch and maybe start sobbing about the horrors of facing impending single motherhood (and could he be so kind as to take me to the hospital and be my coach). Instead I walked away swearing to take the damn shirt back. Macy's might have taken it back too, if in the next instant I hadn't spilled a scoop of ranch dip on it. In trying to clean it off I just managed to spread the stain across my chest- then it just looked like I was pregnant and leaking. Swell. Now I will just look pregnant at my new job (because even though it is unflattering I won't waste the money). I like starting gossip my first week of work anyhow.

Unrelated to the party, a friend of mine (who is only 2 months older than my spry 28 years) called me Friday to tell me she is dating a 61 year old man, and she really likes him. As in he makes her heart happy, and when she is with him the age difference disappears. I have a tendency to get over-involved in my friends lives and I worry too much. So I made a vow a few months ago to just go with the flow and accept. When she told me this I just asked her to take a picture of him (so I could stop the image of her dating Santa or my dying grandpa). I have also had nightmares the last couple of nights in which I am being stalked by old homeless men (who have always been attracted to me), and I have to find a (young) strong protector. I don't need Freud to tell me that this latest news is freaking the hell out of me. But it is her life and I will try to work through my freak-out. It helps that I have a strong happy place (full of cookies and cream ice-cream).

The Treasure Of You

Tonight I will be celebrating the birthday of my aunt, whom I consider to be my second mother (and all around instigator). She has an amazing laugh and a tremendous heart. She will never know how much I love her and how grateful I am that she is in my life.

She is someone who I think really helped me make it through adolescence. Growing up I was as awkward as any teenager could be, and my mom wasn't able to help (mostly because our relationship was a major cause of my angst). I would spend every other weekend with my dad, and no way in hell was I going to confide my drama to him. I can remember going over to my aunt's house, to spend time with Supermommy (no doubt to talk about boys), and being so excited to talk to my aunt. No matter how silly or ridiculous she would listen, and she always said just the right thing. Sometimes I would just sit in her living room as the family went about their normal lives. My family was so screwed up, that it was in those simple moments I could see what a happy family could be like. Even in the times that her kids screwed up, or there was a fight, I was able to see a positive resolution. I was also able to see the love she and my uncle have for one another, and how wonderful a marriage can be.

So thank you from the bottom of my heart. For being there when I was 13 and confused. When I was 18, feeling lost and lonely my first year of college and far from home. During my first counseling job when I felt overwhelmed by all the pain I faced. For every laugh and every happy moment (like synchronized cake cutting during last weeks cake wars, and making me laugh during church). Thanks especially for allowing me to just sit with you for awhile. Know that when I am a mommy, my kids will be blessed because you are my role model. Love love.

Because I Have Juvenile Humor...

I like seeing silly teenage movies. I really want to see SuperBad. Anyone want to go with me?

I Heart The Beach


My last day of work came with more fan fare than I expected. I actually got presents and was taken to lunch. One if my gifts was a beer stein that has my name and degree on it. I guess it's so everyone will know I am a smart drunk. I really enjoyed working with most of the staff this year (the one exception being I really did not like working with the other intern). Thankfully she left a week before I did, so my last week of work was relatively peaceful. I was able to impart my wisdom on the new interns (don't be a jerk and don't be demanding) and say goodbye to everyone who made my year so fun and challenging.

I was really excited to leave work on Thursday because I was heading straight to the coast. I packed up all my books and office knick knacks and drove for 4 hours.

I spent 2 days lying by the pool and hanging out with my family. It was totally chill and exactly what I needed. My aunt celebrated her birthday on Saturday night, and in honor we baked two cakes. This is where the weekend turned a little tense. The cake decorators were 2 cousins, one who is 5, and one who is older. The 5 year old spent the entire time trying to direct the decorating, and finally Reba (the older one) lost it. For the entire dinner Reba kept mumbling that she still liked her cousin in between bites of chili and rice. I was sitting next to her, and there was nothing I could do but let her work through it. I was also trying not to laugh and alert the entire table to the fact that she was so pissed off. And because there was such a war with the cakes, everyone had to have a slice of each, and they had to be cut at exactly the same time. Both cakes were delish if you were wondering, but Reba's was my fav (I'm a chocolate fan).

One aunt become obsessed with One Tree Hill. She stayed up for several nights trying to watch as many episodes as possible. I finally got to talk with her Saturday night when she finished the bulk of the episodes. The only thing she really wanted to talk about though were the characters of OTH. Her daughter told her she was addicted, and she laughed and said "Well Duh!"

I also have been trying to be more active, so each day I swam laps. My 5 y.o. cousin swam along with me, and told me that she wanted to be as strong as I am. I told her that she sees with the eyes of god and she saw my true self.

Saturday night my entire family went to church and I got the giggles while I was there. I was sitting next to an aunt I will refer to as the instigator. It all began when we saw a woman begin picking at the ear of the gentleman next to her. It was actually really creepy and I kept waiting for her to eat the lice she found. I was really creeped because I couldn't tell if this was a daughter and a father or a husband and a wife. All I could do was look away and think happy thoughts. During the homily the priest went on and on about giving, and then there were 2 collection plates, so the instigator began singing about everyone being too cheap (in a high church voice). I pretty much spent the entire service trying not to laugh out loud.

We came home on Sunday, and I have been spending my first week reading, and watching soaps (pretty much what I thought would be happening). I did see the Bourne Ultimatum and I was very impressed. Next on my list are the movies Star Dust and No Reservations. I really also want to go back to the coast, but we will see.

It Gets A Little Easier With Every Dinner

I once again was the third wheel on my dad's date. Last time it bothered me, but last night I was okay with it. And then I began to worry about being okay with it. I couldn't say no to dinner though. They were going to a really good restaurant, and I really didn't want to cook. I mean c'mon it was steak kabobs and grilled asparagus and I would have had cereal at home.

I have one more week of work and then I have 3 weeks of vacation. 3 glorious weeks of sleeping in and watching lousy daytime TV. Any vacation suggestions are welcome (especially for books and movies). One possible vacation idea is a road trip with my mother to the coast. Since we are on g-pa watch I don't know if that will happen (he's still alive if you were wondering). While I can't promise a road trip with my mom to be the best time I have ever had, it would be bloggable.