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.

it takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. -e.e. cummings

Last night I finished my last therapy session. I had my inner child party and it was fun. We had cupcakes and pomegranate and blueberry punch. We made pictures frames and began a collage. As I was talking to my friend on the way to therapy I mentioned that I did not sob or cry in therapy (and I was a little disappointed--I guess I really did want to resolve everything at once). I mentioned this to my therapist and she laughed. Then reminded me that I am not really a sobber, I am more of a laugher in the face of adversity. Which is true, but I am still bummed I didn't have that great cathartic cry.

As of 6pm tonight I am officially Dr. Lorelai. I am more excited about this than graduating last month. Maybe because I knew I wasn't technically graduating when I walked. Tonight my dad and some friends had a celebratory dinner. I really wanted a glass of wine but I had a crazy sinus headache, so I had coffee instead (that felt like a pretty grown-up drink). We talked shop and my dad would interject with refernces from Fraiser and the Bob Newhart Show. He really loved Fraiser.

Not only will I be an official doctor but I also have a job for the next 5 years (yeah job security). It was a position I really wanted, but yesterday when I found out it was mine I began to panic. I don't really feel like Dr. Lore yet. Most of the time I feel like I'm winging it.

Now that I am a doctor my first order of business is to borrow money from my dad to pay rent for the next 2 months. Which maybe another reason I don't feel quite like a grown-up yet.

Here's to choosing wisely, and becoming the person you were born to be.

Forgive Me Father For I have Sinned

Tonight I lied about my age on the elliptical machine at the gym. I was going to be working out next to a guy who looked okay (as in not 85 like the men I usually work out with), and there was no way in hell the true number was coming out. The number I choose was way way off too. More like the dream rather than reality. I really need to wake up early and work out. I'm always a hit with the seniors in the morning.

Because 10 Million Flies Can't Be Wrong

I was told that this was the slogan to the restaurant I dined at Saturday night. It was pretty accurate.

I also ended up being a chaperone on my dad's date. I thought it was a family dinner with her kids too, but instead I was a third wheel. I told my dad it made me feel uncomfortable, and I kid you not he said, "That wasn't a date!" To which I replied, "Did you not eat dinner and then dance with your girlfriend? Pretty much the definition of a date."

Things I Heard At Dinner Tonight

The premise: My brother and his brood came into town for a funeral tomorrow (and though my mother has been practicing singing, it was not my grandfather who passed away). It was decided that dinner tonight would be for my mom's side of the family. While at work I received about 12 phone calls, all telling me dinner was at 7pm (and that was all every message said). My mother even found the number to the school I (am almost) graduated from and called there as well. Finally I called her and told her I was seeing clients and I would be there. She immediately called me back and asked me to look on the internet for plans to an easy to assemble parakeet aviary. I reminded her I was seeing clients and couldn't do that then tried to shut my phone off.

So now onto to dinner. My mother is apparently losing her hearing and shouted the entire meal. Mostly she shouted about how great her dentures look.
She also talked about:
Her IBS (and all the foods she couldn't eat because of it)
Her anxiety (and why she could only eat at Applebee's because of her panic attacks)
The song she will sing at my grandfather's funeral (and how no one wants to sing with her)
How great her dentures look (and was there any food in them?)
Uncomfortable comments about my aunt and uncle having money (and how they were paying for dinner)
Uncomfortable comments about her being poor (and how she couldn't afford to pay for dinner)
She also drank 2 amaretto shots and then said she needed to be driven home. (My aunt was chosen to play dd, but then my mom said she was okay)

And to top it off every conversation also had to be repeated because my cousin who is partially deaf refuses to wear hearing aids but wants to know what every one is talking about.

The twins (who are about 5 months old) screamed for the first 2 hours. A chandelier bulb shattered near our table and I am half convinced their crying caused it.

I walked away full (the new shrimp salad is good), but with a headache. Good times.

Random Work Thoughts

Yesterday a client farted in my office. It wasn't subtle either I actually saw his leg lift up right before it happened (I always think of dogs urinating when people do that). He said, "Excuse me" and I probably just looked blank (I was trying not to giggle). Working with kids I have been coughed on, sneezed on, cried on, and had toys thrown around me. But never has an adult farted in my general direction.

Today we had a surprise wedding shower for a coworker. She has actually been married for 10 months but we found out about it 2 weeks ago. I love parties, so I planned it. I sent out emails talking about the SURPRISE PARTY and please keep quiet. As we began to eat lunch it was mentioned that the day after I sent the email someone talked to her about it. I actually felt rage in my heart (for a second anyway). I knew I had to be nice and laugh it off, but I wanted to kick him out in shame. It made me realize I am too intense to plan parties. It really was a fun party. The fun part was I got everything at the dollar store. Sure the decorations were cheesy, but that's the look I was going for.

I have 2.5 weeks of work left. This year has gone by so fast, and I can't believe it's almost over. I completed all my paperwork today to finish internship and it was bittersweet. Tomorrow the new interns come in to talk about transferring clients. There were moments when I never thought I would get to this place, and now I find myself sad to leave. At least until someone farts.

A Blog Before the Read-A-Thon Begins

Since I fully anticipate spending this weekend reading Harry Potter I thought I would blog now. I found someone (who has kids no less) to go with to the Borders Party. I still feel vaguely Chester Molester, but I want the book. And I have worked out my gym schedule to have maximum reading time (basically I will only use the bike). I am a little obsessed with this series.

I forgot to mention yesterday two things that stuck out. First Disease of the Week made a come back. I had a client cancel and explain to me in great detail the massive diarrhea they have experienced (and all the places it occurred). All I could say was thanks for calling and I appreciate the consideration of choosing not to come in. Ending the call I felt a little gross.

The next event occurred at my aunts house when I traveled last night to give my mom the song lyrics. My great aunt (who is 62) was telling me about how she has been laying out in the sun. First she lifted her shirt to show me how her stomach is tan, and then she dropped her pants to show me her thong line. And she wasn't wearing underwear, so basically my aunt mooned me. I didn't know what to say so I think all I said was good for her, and went back to eating my chicken taco. I tried not to look her way for the rest of the night. I walked away glad she did flash her boobs or her vajayjay.

Have a great weekend all.

Thanks be to the Patron St. of Appropriateness (I'm pretty sure her name is Molly)...

I received some phone calls today from friends and family about the possibility of Goodbye Earl being played at the funeral. I'm not going to lie, I was worried. I had a worse case scenario that involved my running up and knocking the cd player over just as the song began to play (I was going to say I was overcome by the moment).

I spoke with my mother tonight and I am happy and relieved to report that song will not be played at the funeral (she wanted the lyrics for fun). But there will be karaoke. Karaoke. At. A. Funeral. Apparently the words to song will be playing on a big screen as she sings (I am guessing she will, at some point. make it a sing along). I feel like this is another instance in which God answered my prayer (please don't let her sing Goodbye Earl) by giving me a new "opportunity" to blog about. The background will be a picture of my grandfather with the grand kids, and we are all surrounded by photoshopped angels. Still creeps me out.

If today did nothing else it made me think of songs less appropriate for the funeral. As my imaginary funeral play list went through my head I realized it could be worse, and I was grateful that my mom didn't love heavy metal or gangsta rap.

Earl Had To Die

I blogged to soon about my mother and her song choices. She called me this morning to ask me to print out "Goodbye Earl". In case you don't know- it's a song about a man who abuses his wife and she and her best friend poison him and dump the body in the lake. The perfect song for this occasion (if he was a wife abuser and if my g-ma killed him).

My phone kept cutting out, so I missed some of the conversation. I really hope this song is not being added to the dvd montage. Or God forbid she sings it at the funeral. I will know more tonight. Best case scenario she tells me she would never sing this for g-pa (that would be the appropraite response). Worst case scenario, I call out the big guns (aka her sister).

It Wasn't Rod Stewart After All

My cousin sent me the lyrics to the song my mother is planning on singing at my grandfather's funeral. I was guessing it was going to be "Forever Young" by Rod Stewart. I was wrong (I think she's saving it for the big one- my grandma's funeral). Instead she will be singing a song from the Dixie Chicks. It's a song called "Godspeed (Sweet Dreams)". It is about putting a little boy to bed (at least I think it is about that). I always thought of it as a happy song. I really don't want to associate it with death and bad singing. I feel like I need to send the Chicks an apology.

She is also making a dvd of old pictures to play at the funeral (I think it will run as she sings). She is trying to figure out how to photoshop angels into all the pictures. This creeps me out and reminds me of the Sixth Sense when all the pictures have something woo hoo in them. Oh and she's meeting with a man to have the dvd made by this Friday. And my grandfather is still alive. This is what I get for driving home tonight thinking that things on her end were quiet.

My Inner Child Party

I am preparing to leave my job, and the major task is to transfer the clients I have worked with for a year to a new intern, Basically this means plan a lot of parties. One of the best things about working with kids is that any thing can become an occasion to party. For example:
Me: If you don't smear your feces (or play with it) for one week we will do something fun next time you come in. Maybe play uno as we talk about positive behaviors (I say this in my ooh and ahh voice). Mom please keep a daily log.
Or...
Me (again): If you can go for one week without screaming curse words in public or biting your brother, we can play in the sand box (again said in oooh and ahh voice). Mom please keep a log.

To soften the blow of my leaving I have made it a challenge for my little clients to think of what kind of activity or party they want (so far one of my really young clients said that they wanted a Shrek party.) They can make bracelets, plant a flower, draw a picture, anything that can serve as a good transfer object from me to the new intern. So far they are really excited, and I think my adult client thinks I am bringing in cake (which I am not, because for this client strict boundaries are important).

I was explaining this to my therapist, and she was amazed. She doesn't work with kids. She works with adults in private practice, and inmates in her other job (which can be like big scary kids), so she has never done games or closure activities. She asked me how I felt about having an inner child party for my last session. To be honest I thought it was weird, but could be fun. I think we are going to paint rocks into paper weights (my idea) and have cookies (hers). It will be an interesting ending to my last 10 months of therapy. The activity will be to paint a paper weight for the other person. I wonder what she'll put on mine? Maybe we'll have a Shrek party too.

Check This Artist Out

This guy creates cool art.

Tell Me Again For The First Time

I survived dinner with my mother. I really was in and out in one hour which was the nicest thing I could say about it.

Let me begin by saying that since I was young my mother has always told me bad news in front of other family members. At best I can suppose that she needs their support, but since I was a small child I have wondered if it was a chance to create family drama.

Thursday was no exception. She decided to tell me that my grandfather is dying. This is tragic news of course, but it is not unexpected. My grandfather has cancer, and has been fighting it for the last 2 years. Apparently the doctor have given him 2-4 months to live. When he was first diagnosed that was also his life expectancy, so I tend to take it with a grain of salt.

It is also not unexpected because I have known since my own father's birthday. She called me crying about the impending death of her father as I was driving to my own dad's dinner. She has since called me crying on several occasions.

This is the part where all you can do is laugh. She has decided to give a eulogy at the funeral. With her having full blown (unmedicated) bipolar with psychotic hallucinations I can only imagine how this will turn out. When I was first told about this (give or take 3 weeks ago) I turned to my g-ma who said, "Well we've been separated for 17 years there's no reason for me to go." It was like rats jumping a sinking ship. My mother has also decided that she wants his ashes (as in to keep on the kitchen table). So he'll never truly be gone, just in a new container (I think I will decopauge the urn with pictures of glasses of white wine and cheap cigars, to keep it real). Christmas will be interesting.

Lastly, she told me she was planning a surprise for the funeral, and asked if I could participate. Right away I said no (in my mind I shouted, "Oh hell to the no!"). I didn't know what the "surprise" was, but I know my mother. She replied, " That's okay I guess I can sing alone. I mean it's not as if I don't sing it alone everyday on the patio." Drama queen aside, she wanted me to sing a duet at a funeral! At best I have a lousy voice, and I have a big case of stage fright. My mother is also planning the funeral, while my grandfather is still alive. I know there are people who want to plan things out before they head to that big-golf-course-in-the-sky, but g-pa is not one of them, so this is causing just a bit of tension.

So that was my Thursday mama drama. I could really relate to how she was feeling as I had spent the last year worrying about my own father. But she is so caught up in the fact that he is dying that she can't be grateful for the months he has left. I think that when all is said and done I feel the saddest about that.

My Presence is Requested (cue horror music)

I got a phone call from my mother today asking me to come to dinner tonight. She is having other family over and has something important to say. Nothing about this can be good, but (thankfully) I am going to see Harry Potter (movies on a work night seem so decadent) at 9 so I can only stay for one hour. Wish me luck.

The food at dinner should be interesting too. My grandma (who lives with my mom like the dysfunctional golden girls) was recently diagnosed with diabetes. Her whole life if it wasn't deep fried it wasn't dinner. I am guessing there will be a cheesy casserole of some sort (hopefully with no mayo) tonight.

*On a side note, I had a dream about Freud last night. It was like we were friends (it was a young version of Freud). He seemed cool. He never once told me I had penis envy or I wanted to marry my father, but I do think we talked about cigars. This is what I get for eating corn pops before bed.

Of Mice and Hookers

Okay this is gross. It also reminds me of Ratatouille (damn Disney).

Yesterday I told the agency I work for that I had accepted a post doc position site. This is the memo that went out right after I spoke with the exec director:

Everyone:
It is with great reluctance and sadness that I report Lorelai has accepted an offer of employment from Evil Persons United – formerly known as ----. Lorelai has graciously agreed to stay through August 10th to help orient the new psych interns, organize the testing supplies and otherwise wrap up her work here. I am sure the new interns will be grateful for the “hands-on” as they get to know this agency. (is it just me or does the hands on comment seem inappropriate?)
Lorelai starts her new adventures at the axis of evil on September 1st; little does she know she’s building them a cafeteria. (this is in reference to my interview with the other agency. they explained that one of their benefit's was a cafeteria plan. to which I stupidly said, "Oh you have a cafeteria? Cool I don't have to bring a lunch." I then was told all about the health care plan)
It is a big loss to this agency to lose Lorelai, and for all of us personally as we have all grown quite fond of her. I know that you will join with me (eventually, not today, I’m still mad at her) in wishing her well as she goes to join Gollum in Mordor. They have a cafeteria and we don’t. But I’m not bitter or anything….

So today I faced a lot of cafeteria jokes and references to Lord of the Rings. We are nothing if not professional.

Tonight as I was getting ready for bed a news announcement broke the program I was watching (America's Got Talent- don't judge). apparently an unknown chemical was released in the Motel 6 about one block from my home. They shut down the main road and evacuated the motel. I can only imagine what sort of nasty ass chemical was released at this motel (which always looks cheap hooker scary to me).

Happy belated 4th of July! I hope everyone got sunburned, did paperwork, and ate chili cheese fries like me. I realized how scared I am by the sounds of fireworks. I must have been in a firing squad in a past life.

In case you thought for one minute that I was even a little cool, let me dissuade you. I spent 9 hours Saturday attending a Harry Potter marathon (to gear up for the new movie). In between movies we played video games. I had never used the Wii before but I am proud to say that I did not throw the controller through the tv.

Speaking of the boy who lived, I pre-ordered 3 Harry Potter books because the last time a new book came out Borders and Barnes and Noble sold my pre-order. I wish I had a child to take to all the midnight bookstore parties. It's kinda creepy for adults to go without kids.

Last night I called Supermommy. I suck at leaving phone messages and this was no exception. I believe I said, "Hey S, it's Lorelai. Come by and get your book whenever Ponch gets off. (akward pause). Work that is. Not gets off inappropriately (giggle). Oh gosh now I went to a bad place (more laughter). Just call me. Umm... yeah...hi-kids-Lore-loves-you-bye." Thankfully she didn't tease me when she called me back.

Rats in the Kitchen, and hallucinations of God.

This was a pretty chill weekend. I saw Evan Almighty on Saturday and Ratatouille on Sunday. I also read the latest Dean Koontz, Christine Feehan, and Lora Leigh books (all fantastic).

While I found Evan Almighty funny it also made me think. Even though I try to find the heavenly in the everyday, I don't think that I would be okay with talking to God. I would need to check myself into the hospital and request lots of medication. I know I've been in school too long when I started diagnosing Evan as the movie is playing.

Hallucinations and crazy hair aside it also made me think about what I pray for. Morgan Freeman (who plays an excellent God) spoke of getting what you ask for. If you pray for patience (which I do all the time), you will get opprotunities to practice being patient (like I don't know, having people drive slow and crazy on my commute). This makes sense to me, for the first time this year I felt a little more calm on my way to work (sure I was shouting "you slow opprotunity!" but it worked).

As for Ratatouille, the movie cracked me up and creeped me out at the same time. While I can generally be amazed with what Disney puts out, I was wigged the entire time by rats in the kitchen. That is not okay. I kept thinking of the plague and other disgusting diseases. I even saw a rat in my neighborhood as I was driving home that night. Gross.

Today marks the fact that I have one month left of my internship. I am excited and nervous at the same time. This means I have to seriously decide what I want to do next year (and pretty much decide today), and gear up to have a social life. So far I plan on attending cooking classes and taking a photography class. I was also thinking of joining a bowling league (but I suck so that seems mean for the possible teammates). Any suggestions are welcome.

As my friends know that countdown to social life is approaching there has been talk of setting me up on blind dates (which I tend to say no to). Saturday my friend said her father was even looking for a good mechanic/Catholic I could date. Her father is 85 so this should be good. I am guessing that the person he sets me up with is a spry 65. Fingers crossed he has his own teeth and hair.

Although I might be ready to date a 65 year old. I had a school visit today and one girl asked another girl (while pointing at me), "Is that your grandma?" I love Mondays.

Please Don't Do This. 4Real.

A friend just sent this to me. I really hope the baby doesn't end up with this name. Can you imagine the teasing he will take for the rest of his life. What's the wackiest baby name you have heard of? For me it would be Meconium (although I am still hoping this was an urban legend).

Dear John...

Must be my week to catch all the fun articles . The short of this one is John Travolta agrees with Tom Cruise (although he would have handled it differently so he's okay), and blames all the school shootings on psychotropic medicines.

Hi John, I'm Lorelai. Thanks for sharing your opinion. Now let me tell you about me and my job. I have been working my ass off for the last 10 years to graduate with a doctorate in psychology. My emphasis is in child psyhcology. I work with the kids who have been kicked out of preschools, play dates, and recreational programs. They have smeared their shit, cut themselves, and hurt others. I work with families who are overwhelmed and frustrated. I work with kids who have faced more abuse and trauma in their young lives than I have faced in almost 30 years. Do I think that sometimes kids are over-medicated? Hell yes I do. I do not recommend meds as a first option for any child. There are foods and parent tools I always recommend first. Therapy is another first option. Have I ever seen a child who is so ill that medicine is an option. Hell yes I have. And I have seen many adults who benefit from medicine. I also have a mother who believes that she is followed by gangs, and her cell phone and her computer are full of devices that watch her and taunt her. When her hallucinations are particularly bad she will put black screening material up to keep the bad guys from seeing her and trying to hurt her. I look at my mother and I wish she would take medication. Maybe then she would have some sort of a quality to her life.

Tell me John, did your wife ever feel so dark after giving birth to your two beautiful kids that she contemplated killing your babies? I really hope she didn't, but many women feel this way (or some sort of PPD) and I don't care what your feelings are, you don't get to judge people who seek help. They are not weak for using meds. In fact they are some of the strongest damn people I know.

I am glad you're a night owl, guess what I am too. But have you ever stayed up all night because if you closed your eyes the hallucinations would become so bad the only way to stop them was to kill yourself? Talk to someone who has, and tell them they are wrong for seeking medical treatment.

Let's talk about psychotropic medications causing school shootings. First off, the medical and mental health records of the V-Tech killer are not released so how do you know he was on psychotropic meds? It was believed that he didn't attend the counseling he was ordered to, so I find it hard to believe that he would be med compliant. As for the other shooters, some were one meds and some weren't, so let's get this out of the way, meds don't cause shooters. They may be a factor, the same way the family, school, peer group, and self are factors.

Do we need gun control? I think we do. Do we need to know more about psychotropic meds? Yes we do especially those we give to kids. But we also need better access to mental health, and we need to remove the stigma that comes with mental illness. But I don't think you'll help me with this. That's okay, I can work on it without you or Tom's help.

I am happy you are blessed to have a wonderful family and a supportive religion. You're right to think that everyone should be able to voice their opinion. Here's my opinion: I think yours sucks. It is full of faulty logic and a lack of compassion for a group of people who are already feeling isolated and overwhelmed. The saddest part of all of this is that you have power because of your fame. And while many will read your article and think of you as a pompous jackass, for some your words will keep them from seeking treatment.

Wow this really pissed me off. Jumping off my pedestal now. Peace out.

Speed It Up Padre!


I just read this article . I love when psychology and the law come together. I hope the judge also ordered the man to complete counseling.


And just in case you were wondering what the Vatican thought about road rage check out this article I know I struggle on a daily basis not to hate slow and stupid drivers. I wonder if the pope has ever yelled at someone who cut him off? I bet you get a double sin if you yell at the pope mobile (you know that thing goes 20 tops).

Mom shaved her legs, someone got punched in a bathroom, and a conversation with mall security. All this and more in Weekend Recap.

After my dad's b-day dinner we went to this department store to find something for my g-pa for father's day. This is a nice store, upscale like Nordstroms. We got in just before closing. I found my g-pa golf shirts, and my friend found something to wear for a wedding she was attending the next day. Her mom and my dad were hanging out waiting for us to finish. Her mom used the restroom and could hear several girls who sounded drunk. She found us waiting in line to pay. She explained what she heard then stated she was going to find a manager. My friend said she wanted to see what was happening and walked in. About a minute later 3 young girls (like 16 or so) stumble out. They say something about someone getting hit and walk away. We walk into the bathroom and my friend is holding a paper towel to her lip and stated she was punched when she told them to quiet down.

The cashier called the manager. The manager called the mall cops. The mall cops came and did nothing. We found one of the girls--her friends ditched her. She started off acting tough but by the end of the night she was crying and wanting to go home (we broke her with kindness). My friend's mom paid for a cab to take her home. Standing there listen to my friend and this young girl talk, I once again realized how sheltered my life is. I have never been in a bathroom brawl, or been so drunk/high I felt like I could take anyone on. I was also never allowed to dress like a prostitute when I left the house. I thought about that girl this weekend and I hope she is okay. I also hope the swelling went down in my friend's lip in time for the wedding she attended.

I also had father's day activities all day on Sunday. Beginning with my mom's side. We had a luncheon for my g-pa and it began was with my mom talking about shaving her legs in honor of the occasion. I wasn't sure how to respond to that so I ignored it. She also mentioned wanting to get a hummingbird tattoo. Again I ignored this. Lastly she brought out pictures of the fam. Some dating back to me in junior high. Those were not good years for me. I came to the realization that my mom is a crappy picture taker, but only in pictures she takes of me. If I am talking or making an awful face she was there. I love candids as much as the next person, but I like there to still be prettiness in the candid. One picture was so close of me you could see my nose pores. And it looked like my eyes were crossed. I took the pics with me to be destroyed. If I hadn't they would have ended up on my wedding cake. Thanks mom.

I also saw Ocean's 13 and hand my first mojito (or half of one). All in all it was an entertaining weekend. Next weekend is more family events, so I am sure there will be more stories.

A Post About My Father

Friday my dad turned 55. Getting through this year has been one of the most stressful things I have ever done. My dad is perfectly healthy (although he is an occasional chain smoker), and the worst thing he had was the flu this winter. Even knowing this I have been terrified waiting for this day to come. Dad has a unique family history. His father and his father's father both died at 54. He has older siblings (none of whom died in their 54th year), and one told him he wouldn't know scared until he turned 54. But my dad is funny in that he would be okay with dying. Not to say he's suicidal, merely that he has lived a good life and he has no major regrets. I don't know if he has been worried at all this year, meanwhile I have been stress eating like a fiend for the last 3 weeks.

I am glad my dad is in a place of acceptance for what ever comes. I am so not there yet. I want him around for at least 55 more years. He needs to terrorize my future husband and make me laugh as we walk down the aisle. He needs to take my children to the ranch (or the gym/bagel shop) and teach them all about the things he loves (the gym/bagel shop/PBS). He needs to be there to talk with me and comfort me when my mother is falling apart. I need one stable parent.

I really did score getting him for a dad. He is amazingly supportive of his kids, as well anyone he meets. Just today I had two friends tell me they wished he was their dad.

One of my favorite dad memories happened when I was a sophomore in high school. I was sitting in class when a voice came over the speaker and told me my dad was picking me up for lunch. I thought I was the shit getting to miss cafeteria food. When I got to the car my brother was also there, and to be honest I was a little confused. My dad was not a pick you up take you to lunch guy. At first I thought someone died and he was trying to soften the blow with a milk shake (which is what he did when our dog died). Instead of McDonald's or Carl's Jr he took us to a homeless shelter. As we pulled up he talked to us about how important it was to help others. He knew the directer of the shelter, and so for lunch that day we served mashed potatoes and some meat with gravy. I remember thinking in that moment he was the coolest guy ever.

In recent years something I have treasured was going with him to see Paul McCartney. Dad is a big Beatles fan. As a child he used to tell me all about the stories behind the songs. He was so excited when we were old enough to fully appreciate "Let It Be." For as much as he loved the Beatles he never had the chance to see them in person. Over a year ago Paul went on tour and my dad and I drove 3 hours to see him. I sat next to him and cried as Paul sang all the songs that mean the most to my dad. I told him that I was crying because of Paul, but really it was because I knew how special that night was. There are moments in my life that I know are special even as I am experiencing them and that one. The plan was to stay in a hotel after the concert, but my dad was so jazzed up after the concert that he drove straight home talking about how great all the songs were. I tried to sleep as songs ran through my head.

On Friday night at dinner we reminisced about all the stories that come up when families are together. We laughed about his love for instant coffee and Seinfeld. And then he began singing "Happy Birthday" to himself when the cake came -- before anyone else was ready to sing, and even when we all joined in his voice was still the loudest.

Just so you don't think he is a paragon of virtue I should tell you he is basically a big ball of republicanism (who says he's "independent", but I call him on his voting record for the past 20 years). Since I am a big old Democrat this can lead to all sorts of fun debates. Last week he told me he wondered if global warming even existed. Sometimes I wonder if he says this stuff just so we'll argue. I can't wait for the presidential elections. He is also a workaholic who doesn't want to trouble others, so he does everything himself.

In honor of his birthday and Father's day I dedicate this post to my dad. Thanks for everthing you do, and here is to 55 more years of memories.

Dear God, Please Let Me Be Hormonal

Because I kid you not, I cried during the first 10 minutes of the season finale of One Tree Hill. In my defense (weak that it is), someone was dying and someone was giving birth (and the dying person went to the other side and saw the love of her life-I should stop now because this is not making it better) . Also in my defense I laughed during the rest of it, especially when one of the moms told her son to go to a crazy party and have fun while she watched his kid. Sweet.

I also laughed during the new show, Creature Comforts. Check it out if you haven't already.

Suck This AARP

As I was looking through my mail I saw a post card to join AARP. My friend who was on the phone when I read this vile piece of junk mail heard my gasp of dismay and thought it was pretty funny. Maybe I will sign her up for AARP. She does have a b-day coming up.

Thing That Creeps Me Out #156

Getting a call from my home phone when I am at work. Luckily, it was just my mother calling me to let me know she brought food over, and not the neighborhood robber wondering where I keep the good china (I have no good china in case you wondered, but if you want old tea cup plates come on over.)

Why my plan to blog was waylaid by a man and his love of a horse...


Last night my intent was to blog, and I even signed in to blogger. But WifeSwap was on and I swear to you one of the wives said, "Dan has a deep and intimate love for his horse." I was hooked. It really did live up to my expectations of fine programming. One wife got yelled at for not washing the horse to Dan's standards (she wasn't close enough with the hose to the horse's behind--not being a horse lover I wonder if that really make a difference?) The cowboy wife yelled at the "house honey" a.k.a. the other dad, for basically being a wimp and not being a "manly man." He cried at that, he showed her all the jewelry his wife buys him, then he said, "I am vacuuming and I don't care what she thinks." For the rule change she bought him manly clothes--a cowboy hat and a shirt with fringe. He still kept his jewelry on.

I don't know why, but this show gets me every week. I love how surprised the families are at the rule change, and how crazy everyone gets thinking their way is the only way. There was only one episode I have never been able to watch, and that involved a family who ate raw, rotting meat. I vurp thinking about it.

Speaking of T.V., my dream last night included the cast of One Tree Hill. Yes, I watch a teen soap opera. But in my defense I watch it with my teenage cousin, and I try to impart my wisdom on her (like don't shoot other kids, don't get pregnant in high school, and don't cheat on math finals). That really doesn't make it better. I think I dreamt of the season finale. Hopefully my brain is not trying to tell me I watch too much T.V. Supermommy's son once included the characters of Caillou in his prayers and she took that as a sign he needed more play dates with real kids.

Confessions of an Almost Docling...

I can't believe it's been almost a month since my last post. In that time I have almost graduated (I walked, but it's not official till I finish my internship), almost found a job for next year (still trying to decide between two places), and I almost had a vacation (more than spending 3 days on my couch watching soaps).

I have lots to write and no time at work to fully say it all. I will leave you leave you with a little something my best friend's daughter (who is 3) said when someone hoped she would become a doctor one day. Through her sobbing tears she was able to tell her mother that she didn't want to be a doctor, she wanted to be a princess. Now that I am almost grown up I can sympathize.

You dirty little monkey

Today I learned the meaning of two phrases. As I innocently read Sarah and the Goon Squad I came upon the phrases Dirty Sanchez and Donkey Punch. Not knowing the meaning behind the phrases I began my search on blingo. Thanks to Wikipedia for the helpful (gross) descriptions. When I told Sigmund that I learned about dirty sanchez he said, "Well at least Boots didn't give Dora a donkey punch." I laughingly told him that was also referenced. Then I got to explain a donkey punch to Carl (like I am the freaking expert now). We also discussed Screech, and how no amount of therapy (or booze could make it okay for the women in his video. Moments like this make me realize how sheltered my life is. And how okay I am with that.

Mothers, Fake Dates, and the Beach

This weekend I went to the beach for a wedding. My friend Sigmund went as my fake date. It was also my first wedding in which my father wasn't my date (or I went alone), so that was a pleasant change. We enjoyed the margarita and taco bar, as well as the funny couples we were seated with. Another couple, Carl and Stanley, came along for the road trip as well.

We began by having dinner at this honky tonk place in the middle of nowhere. I forgot how many country songs I know, and I think I scared my travel companions with this knowledge. In honor of this dinner, "cowboy up" was the term for the weekend. We also stopped for gas about a block from the honky tonk and it was like entering the Grindhouse double feature. Everyone in the station either looked they were were about to die (like the female college students who loudly talked about how they were lost and needed to call their moms and let them know they are not dead- this wasn't foreshadowing at all) or wanted to kill others (like the stupid girls).

Saturday after the wedding Sig and I met up with Carl and Stanley and wandered around town. At dinner I was more in love with the Bollywood films being shown than the company or the food. They were great films of love and loss and of course dancing.

Sunday started out well. We had a nice breakfast at the local IHOP (umm pancakes) then went shopping. Then my mother called.

She has begun hallucinating again and forgot I was not in town. Right there in the middle of a busy sidewalk I stopped and listened as my mother began talking about all the people following her, watching her, and destroying her house. I was near a restaurant where families were celebrating Mother's Day, and it finally hit me that this was it. For the rest of her life this would be the down and the ups would never get as up as they once were. I have thought about it before but now I realize one day she will need me to see to her care 24/7. Sigh.

I looked over at my friends who were pretending not to watch me try not to fall apart, and I was glad to have such good company. Even speaking to my therapist about it yesterday didn't quite take the sadness away. Mother's day has never been a holiday I enjoyed with my mother anyways (reasons why best saved for a later post), but it hit me that one day potentially every holiday could sound like this. Am I ready to be her caretaker full time? No, not even close to ready. I am not even ready to be a real grown up yet, much less be in charge of her. Is anyone ever ready to parent their parent?

And so you don't think my Sunday was completely a downer I will end by telling you how I began to conquer not one, but two fears. As I drove my travel weary friends home I needed to use the restroom. I had my fill of scary gas station bathrooms (where you know you'll get the monkey pox if your butt touches the seat) and asked Sig if I could use his. He looked a little alarmed but agreed. He tried to tell me it was a little dirty, but not monkey pox dirty. What he didn't tell me was that the last time he entered that room in his house was the first day he moved in. There were spider webs everywhere including the toilet bowl, and as I tried to sweep them off the place I would soon be sitting he stood outside the door telling me this was better than the upstairs one. I have a hard time using the restroom while other people are around, and well spiders scare the crap out of me. But I did what I needed to. And hopefully received no spider bite in the ass.