Last night I had a dream. I dreamt that I was back in high school (I know), and I had been switched to a different high school which meant I had no idea where anything was or where I was supposed to go. Not only did I wake up late that morning and missed the bus, I had to drive to the new school and try to find a parking space, even though I didn’t have a student parking pass yet. Also, for some odd reasons I was starting this new high school the day after Christmas. In any event, I caught a break and there was a booth set up with a parking attendant (weird, huh?) and she was all, “don’t worry about it, all the ticketers are off for the holidays so you can leave your car anywhere.” After parking my car and trying to locate the main entrance of the school, I realized I couldn’t find my class schedule. This is where the dream kicked into classic anxiety mode. I went through folder after folder and pocket after pocket of my Traperkeeper (I KNOW!) and still could not find a class schedule. I had no idea which classes I had, or what room they were in, or where I was supposed to be! If you know anything about me at all, you know I need structure to function. So this was a very stressful dream. And then I saw my friend Kim from high school and she gave me a big hug and told me she knew right where I needed to go and oh, did I want to have lunch with her and all my old friends? And then I was calm.
Weird, huh?
So the holidays have come and gone, but I just stumbled across this little gem. A song from Lindsey Lohan's sister Ali's christmas album (!!!) called a Lohan Holiday. You must listen. I could have written and recorded this song in my bathroom with an old tape player and it would sound better. Jesus. Their family is so effed up.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Saturday, December 16, 2006
It's Not A Tumah
The lack of updates to this blog is not indicative of a lack of events in my life. On the contrary, I have been spending so little time at home lately, that I haven’t had a chance to fill everyone in. I try (sometimes unsuccessfully) to not update at work. The most important news of late has to do with my Grandma Riley (my dad’s mom). She has been feeling very fatigued for the past few months, and after running some blood tests, the doctors discovered that she is severely anemic. However, they also discovered that she had a mass in her colon, and she has had to endure a barium swallow and a colonoscopy as they try to discover whether it is a cyst or a tumor. I think the results come back next week.
It’s funy (and not in the ha ha way). My grandmother is 86 years old, but she’s one of the most active people I know. She has always cut the grass and does all the yardwork (including trimming the branches on the trees), and she always does the housework. I mean, I know that she was old and starting to slow down, but the idea that she could actually be sick always seemed like a distant fear. Now I find myself worried that our time together might be running short. I think terrible things like, “this might be our last Christmas with Grandma,” or “Grandma will probably not see me get married.” Are thoughts like this normal?
As the holidays approach, I guess I’ll just try to spend as much time as possible over at her house. I just got back from putting up her Christmas tree and stringing the lights. She kept trying to get me to let her get on the step ladder and straighten the angel tree topper and wire the tree to the wall (to make sure it doesn’t fall over). I had to tell her that I knew my Dad would kill me if I let her get up on that ladder. And he would. It’s hard for her, because she doesn’t want to be useless and have everyone do everything for her. At the same time she needs to recognize that she is no longer as spry as she used to be, and working like she used to around the house can have serious physical consequences. A couple weeks ago she was out in the yard and pulled some muscles in her back, she could barely stand for 5 days. So we all try to help her as much as possible, while at the same time allowing her to still feel independent and needed. But she still is the one to take care of all of us. She is our matriarch!
The moral? Getting old sucks. But my Grandmother rules.
It’s funy (and not in the ha ha way). My grandmother is 86 years old, but she’s one of the most active people I know. She has always cut the grass and does all the yardwork (including trimming the branches on the trees), and she always does the housework. I mean, I know that she was old and starting to slow down, but the idea that she could actually be sick always seemed like a distant fear. Now I find myself worried that our time together might be running short. I think terrible things like, “this might be our last Christmas with Grandma,” or “Grandma will probably not see me get married.” Are thoughts like this normal?
As the holidays approach, I guess I’ll just try to spend as much time as possible over at her house. I just got back from putting up her Christmas tree and stringing the lights. She kept trying to get me to let her get on the step ladder and straighten the angel tree topper and wire the tree to the wall (to make sure it doesn’t fall over). I had to tell her that I knew my Dad would kill me if I let her get up on that ladder. And he would. It’s hard for her, because she doesn’t want to be useless and have everyone do everything for her. At the same time she needs to recognize that she is no longer as spry as she used to be, and working like she used to around the house can have serious physical consequences. A couple weeks ago she was out in the yard and pulled some muscles in her back, she could barely stand for 5 days. So we all try to help her as much as possible, while at the same time allowing her to still feel independent and needed. But she still is the one to take care of all of us. She is our matriarch!
The moral? Getting old sucks. But my Grandmother rules.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Popo's Creepin, Yo.
On Wednesdays after work I head to my Dad’s house for the usual two-fer of dinner and verbal power struggles. While driving to Dad’s house this week, I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw flashing blue and red lights. Like any good person my immediate thought was, “shit.” That’s right, folks, I got pulled over. Now I would like to point out that I was going 41 in a 35 mph zone. 6 miles over the speed limit. So I pulled over and this youngish cop comes up to me and we have the following conversation:
Cop: My name is Officer So and So with the Alexandria Police Department. The reason I pulled you over is…
Me: *I was only going 6 mph over, my tages are not expired, OMG do I have a tail light out? Does he think I have a dead body in the trunk? Is there an ax murderer in the back seat??*
Cop: …you were speeding.
Me: *Seriously?*
Cop: You passed the speed limit sign and then you passed me..
Me: *face palm* (no seriously, I whacked myself when he said that)
Cop…so I just wanted to make sure everything was ok.
Me: Uh….yeah.
Cop: Where are you headed?
Me: My father’s house.
Cop: Ok, well I’m not going to write you a citation…
Me: THANK YOU SO MUCH.
Cop: ..unless you have an expired or suspended license. Anything like that?
Me: Absolutely not.
Cop: (after going to check his computer-thingy) Ok, well then, have a nice night. And the police station is right near where we are, so watch out when you drive on this street.
It was…weird. I mean, I was not going all that fast, and he asked me if I was ok. Like, he thought I had a gaping head wound or something. In which case I would probably be driving faster than just 6 miles over the speed limit. And then he didn’t give me a ticket, so what was the point of pulling me over? Not that I am complaining about not getting a ticket. Maybe he just wanted to warn the other drivers to show there was police presence on the road. My main theory right now is that he was a cop-in-training and he was just practicing his people skills. Or maybe he just felt bad for me.
Cop: My name is Officer So and So with the Alexandria Police Department. The reason I pulled you over is…
Me: *I was only going 6 mph over, my tages are not expired, OMG do I have a tail light out? Does he think I have a dead body in the trunk? Is there an ax murderer in the back seat??*
Cop: …you were speeding.
Me: *Seriously?*
Cop: You passed the speed limit sign and then you passed me..
Me: *face palm* (no seriously, I whacked myself when he said that)
Cop…so I just wanted to make sure everything was ok.
Me: Uh….yeah.
Cop: Where are you headed?
Me: My father’s house.
Cop: Ok, well I’m not going to write you a citation…
Me: THANK YOU SO MUCH.
Cop: ..unless you have an expired or suspended license. Anything like that?
Me: Absolutely not.
Cop: (after going to check his computer-thingy) Ok, well then, have a nice night. And the police station is right near where we are, so watch out when you drive on this street.
It was…weird. I mean, I was not going all that fast, and he asked me if I was ok. Like, he thought I had a gaping head wound or something. In which case I would probably be driving faster than just 6 miles over the speed limit. And then he didn’t give me a ticket, so what was the point of pulling me over? Not that I am complaining about not getting a ticket. Maybe he just wanted to warn the other drivers to show there was police presence on the road. My main theory right now is that he was a cop-in-training and he was just practicing his people skills. Or maybe he just felt bad for me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)