Grandma's not doing well at all. Cancer in her kidneys, tumor in her stomach and hernias throughout - its more a matter of time than any hope of getting better. Here's where I'm torn. I hate seeing this woman in pain, it hurts to know that it's only going to get worse and yet, instead of having her take a pill and die when she can no longer handle the pain, we let her go months waiting for her body to finally give up. I don't want her to go, but if there's no hope for recovery then why make her suffer more?
Of course my mom and I are pragmatic people, which for emotional people, makes us look like dicks. I want to know what's been done and where things are going. I know that the will has been done for some time now (no idea what's in it and not that curious either) and grandma has been talking about where she'd like her funeral (she's also pragmatic). Not the most joyous of conversations, but they're better to have now, while she can make sure she's understood. I don't think my sister could handle this kind of info, in fact I'm positive that she couldn't. The fact that we're being realistic here and are working towards getting answers, tells my sister that we've already given up. We have. It's that simple. She's 91 years old. She won't make it to 92. It really sucks, but to hide and think that she's fine, is stupid and does nothing for the future when decisions need to be made.
So for the next couple months while the pain makes living a nightmare for grandma, we have to wait for her body to give up.
On to a more pleasant topic. I had a good book idea last night. The non baby guide. The guide to singles and married people with no intention of having kids. There were lots of diagrams and funny stories about if a person with a kids says this, then it really means this. Sadly, lots of the humor was robbed from me, when my husband last night had an in depth conversation with himself over a math problem in his sleep. I really need to bring in a tape recorder so he can hear himself snore and help me to understand his conversations.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Not my most graceful day on this earth
So yesterday I take two people over to Warner Bros to have lunch at their famous commissary and to look into sound stages for giggles and to see if I can find someone famous for them to oggle. This sounds fun. It usually is. However, since I'm being rather apathetic about my wardrobe these days I didn't take into much consideration what I was going to wear. I should have.
In retrospect wearing a polyester shirt where the sleeves are so constrictive that moving my arm instantly cuts circulation, but the rest of the shirt is so big that I could swim in it. Or crop pants that are more of a thick winter blend that have a lower than desired crotch and a button that was hanging by a thread and fell off the first time I sat. Or most importantly, my favorite brown pointy leather shoes that have been my friend for years, but are stretched to the point where they're more like clown shoes now.
Getting to the lot was not a big deal, it was after getting in when I felt that there were going to be problems. Instead of using the main artery of WB (the water tower) to get from one place to another, it was closed and the only way to get anywhere, was to walk a quarter mile in the opposite direction from where you wanted to be. By the time we got to the commissary I was dripping sweat, my hair was wet, don't even want to mention what the crotch area was like. The worst were my shoes which started flopping off the minute I began sweating and every fourth step was to stop and put my heel back in. The only benefit to this, were the two people I came with were wearing ridiculously high heels and slower walkers than me.
We went inside the commissary and it was wonderful. Air conditioner loveliness. Ordered food and there were no spots insides so we had to sit outside, which wasn't bad due to the umbrellas. Half way through lunch and I'm slipping my foot out of my shoe, when I feel something on the ball of my left shoe. It can't be, so I move my shoe to look and yes. There is now a hole on the bottom of my shoe. A hole right on the base and roughly the size of a dime. No wonder why my foot was killing me. I was burning it on the concrete with every step. Crap, I realize that I'm taking my guests on a walking tour after lunch, cause I couldn't procure a cart. We finish and the first thing we do is go as far as possible to the ER/old Gilmore Girl sets. Needless to say within 10 minutes, I'm sweating again, crotch is dripping sweat and shoes are flopping. We find out that due to the Universal fires, that Ghost Whisper (I could be wrong on the show) is now filming on the old Gilmore set. We walk by Cold Case studios that are filming and can't get in. The nice thing is that since no one knows that we're not important, we can pretend that we are and get into things. However, with my shoe issues and my guests shoe issues, not to mention that it's near 105 and every step is like walking around in an oven. We decide to cut the trip short. However there's no way out. Every turn we take leads us back to the closed off water tower and our freedom. We spend the next 15 minutes wondering around offices and other buildings, hoping that one will lead out. None do. Finally we go all the way around all the buildings and head back to gate 4 where work is waiting. While crossing the street I loose the shoe three times and barely make it to the corner. When I do, I can see that the hole has increased to the size of a quarter.
We get back, I'm bright red and my hair is so wet that it looks like I just took a shower, pants are near falling off (spent most of the walking tour with hands in pockets holding up pants, never an attractive look) and foot is on fire from the gapping hole I've got going. I spend the rest of my day at my desk.
In retrospect wearing a polyester shirt where the sleeves are so constrictive that moving my arm instantly cuts circulation, but the rest of the shirt is so big that I could swim in it. Or crop pants that are more of a thick winter blend that have a lower than desired crotch and a button that was hanging by a thread and fell off the first time I sat. Or most importantly, my favorite brown pointy leather shoes that have been my friend for years, but are stretched to the point where they're more like clown shoes now.
Getting to the lot was not a big deal, it was after getting in when I felt that there were going to be problems. Instead of using the main artery of WB (the water tower) to get from one place to another, it was closed and the only way to get anywhere, was to walk a quarter mile in the opposite direction from where you wanted to be. By the time we got to the commissary I was dripping sweat, my hair was wet, don't even want to mention what the crotch area was like. The worst were my shoes which started flopping off the minute I began sweating and every fourth step was to stop and put my heel back in. The only benefit to this, were the two people I came with were wearing ridiculously high heels and slower walkers than me.
We went inside the commissary and it was wonderful. Air conditioner loveliness. Ordered food and there were no spots insides so we had to sit outside, which wasn't bad due to the umbrellas. Half way through lunch and I'm slipping my foot out of my shoe, when I feel something on the ball of my left shoe. It can't be, so I move my shoe to look and yes. There is now a hole on the bottom of my shoe. A hole right on the base and roughly the size of a dime. No wonder why my foot was killing me. I was burning it on the concrete with every step. Crap, I realize that I'm taking my guests on a walking tour after lunch, cause I couldn't procure a cart. We finish and the first thing we do is go as far as possible to the ER/old Gilmore Girl sets. Needless to say within 10 minutes, I'm sweating again, crotch is dripping sweat and shoes are flopping. We find out that due to the Universal fires, that Ghost Whisper (I could be wrong on the show) is now filming on the old Gilmore set. We walk by Cold Case studios that are filming and can't get in. The nice thing is that since no one knows that we're not important, we can pretend that we are and get into things. However, with my shoe issues and my guests shoe issues, not to mention that it's near 105 and every step is like walking around in an oven. We decide to cut the trip short. However there's no way out. Every turn we take leads us back to the closed off water tower and our freedom. We spend the next 15 minutes wondering around offices and other buildings, hoping that one will lead out. None do. Finally we go all the way around all the buildings and head back to gate 4 where work is waiting. While crossing the street I loose the shoe three times and barely make it to the corner. When I do, I can see that the hole has increased to the size of a quarter.
We get back, I'm bright red and my hair is so wet that it looks like I just took a shower, pants are near falling off (spent most of the walking tour with hands in pockets holding up pants, never an attractive look) and foot is on fire from the gapping hole I've got going. I spend the rest of my day at my desk.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Not feeling it
So today I have a crapload of my jewelry and people are looking and some are buying. I just feel so exposed. I almost want a sign that says 'I really don't need your money, I just like making things', but if that were really true then I'd just put a pile of stuff that says 'go for it', so there must be some truth to the wanting money. I haven't had a sale on etsy in over a week, which is nothing, but I was digging the game of it. It must be the fact that I'm late, period wise. Yesterday I was so emotional it was silly.
But as weird as I feel, I can't imagine what life would feel like if I was my co-worker or friend.
On Saturday my co-worker got a call saying that her 23 year old son was dead. He had had a seizure at a friend's house, his eyes roll back and he was gone. Instantly. She was actually at work on Wednesday. On one side I can see why people need to go to work during personal trauma, it relieves them of what's going on outside of the office. You know your routine and where you fit in. There's no identity issue happening. When you're back in the world you have to think about cremation and services, emptying out his bedroom. I couldn't imagine.
With my friend it's more of a 'whoa' kind of experience. This week she had lunch with an ex boyfriend who had been her guy for 7 years before they broke up. They called occasionally and so this wasn't out of the blue. Well he tells her that next week he leaves for reconstructive face surgery so his transition to being a woman won't be so difficult. Yes, the plot of so many bad tv movies is my friends reality. As I told her two nights ago when I came over to help her process, so often we wish that our ex's would get castrated, this ones doing it voluntarily.
Now I don't know where most people are in the transgender thing, personally if you want to spend your own money, you should be able to do anything to yourself. Not that there's any legislature out there, but the minute this becomes government funded though, I'll balk like it's no ones business.
Gas is high, everyone knows that, so my husband decided that with his car in the shop and no other way to get there (I love him but I'm not going to drive 100 miles before 8:00am on a Friday) so he thought he'd take the metro from San Gabriel to El Segundo. I dropped him off at 7:20, on my way to work. He didn't get into work till almost 11:00. Yeah. 11:00. I'd be scratching the walls by 10:00 and possibly creating a hostage situation by 10:30. Needless to say, public transportation is not in our future.
For this weekend, we're supposed to do things with father's but both of us are kind of not in that mood. In fact, I don't think our father's are. Mine just wants to watch golf and eat a sandwich.
But as weird as I feel, I can't imagine what life would feel like if I was my co-worker or friend.
On Saturday my co-worker got a call saying that her 23 year old son was dead. He had had a seizure at a friend's house, his eyes roll back and he was gone. Instantly. She was actually at work on Wednesday. On one side I can see why people need to go to work during personal trauma, it relieves them of what's going on outside of the office. You know your routine and where you fit in. There's no identity issue happening. When you're back in the world you have to think about cremation and services, emptying out his bedroom. I couldn't imagine.
With my friend it's more of a 'whoa' kind of experience. This week she had lunch with an ex boyfriend who had been her guy for 7 years before they broke up. They called occasionally and so this wasn't out of the blue. Well he tells her that next week he leaves for reconstructive face surgery so his transition to being a woman won't be so difficult. Yes, the plot of so many bad tv movies is my friends reality. As I told her two nights ago when I came over to help her process, so often we wish that our ex's would get castrated, this ones doing it voluntarily.
Now I don't know where most people are in the transgender thing, personally if you want to spend your own money, you should be able to do anything to yourself. Not that there's any legislature out there, but the minute this becomes government funded though, I'll balk like it's no ones business.
Gas is high, everyone knows that, so my husband decided that with his car in the shop and no other way to get there (I love him but I'm not going to drive 100 miles before 8:00am on a Friday) so he thought he'd take the metro from San Gabriel to El Segundo. I dropped him off at 7:20, on my way to work. He didn't get into work till almost 11:00. Yeah. 11:00. I'd be scratching the walls by 10:00 and possibly creating a hostage situation by 10:30. Needless to say, public transportation is not in our future.
For this weekend, we're supposed to do things with father's but both of us are kind of not in that mood. In fact, I don't think our father's are. Mine just wants to watch golf and eat a sandwich.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Weekend update
This weekend was fun. On Friday one of my bosses bought a mass of tickets at the arclight to go see Sex & the City. I had watched the show, not faithfully when it was on HBO, but well enough to know the plot and most of the characters. So 15 of us were there, cosmos were waiting for us and we got the nice lounge next to the bar cause one in the group has pull. Had our drinks and went in with 500 other women and 3 scared men. It was good. Like watching 5 episodes in a row. The part that I always hate is how weak and simple they make the men. Big took off? Really? Cause he wanted something smaller. Communication would have been helpful, but then it really wouldn't have made the other 2 hours of the movie as entertaining.
What was truly impressive/silly were the droves of women dressed to the nines coming out to see the movie. I get the group mentality of it, but the characters on the screen really aren't your friends. You're not all going to hang out at a fancy nightclub and contemplate why there are no decent men afterwards.
From there we had the bar at Delaney's on Hollywood, but I didn't want to go. I wanted to hang out with my husband and dogs cause the next day I went to Palm Springs. Palm Springs was good. Lots of wind. I had the eye facial and spa pedicure with paraffin wrap. Nice. I so love paraffin, it makes the skin so nice for a few hours. Hung out, talked and then drove over to Palm Desert to see what was in a bead store - trapped for a half hour by the owner who hadn't seen a customer all day and was now living in his store and had to talk. Yikes.
Finally escaped and met up with Chris. We hung out, went out to dinner at Wang's and the over to Toucans, which was right next to the Shilo, where we were staying cause Villas is now closed and there weren't any gay resorts that like straight girls to stay too. At Toucans we met James, who is 40 and his boyfriend who's much older. James didn't like my book idea, Money Grubbing Whore too much - he said that it was too close to what he is. Oh well.
From there, Chris dropped me off at the hotel and he went out and had fun till 3:00.
Next morning (yesterday) I woke up, WENT TO THE GYM! And then drank coffee and read a book in the lobby so Chris could get some sleep. At 10:00 we got ready and packed, headed over to Rock Garden cafe for the best brunch ever and then went home.
What was truly impressive/silly were the droves of women dressed to the nines coming out to see the movie. I get the group mentality of it, but the characters on the screen really aren't your friends. You're not all going to hang out at a fancy nightclub and contemplate why there are no decent men afterwards.
From there we had the bar at Delaney's on Hollywood, but I didn't want to go. I wanted to hang out with my husband and dogs cause the next day I went to Palm Springs. Palm Springs was good. Lots of wind. I had the eye facial and spa pedicure with paraffin wrap. Nice. I so love paraffin, it makes the skin so nice for a few hours. Hung out, talked and then drove over to Palm Desert to see what was in a bead store - trapped for a half hour by the owner who hadn't seen a customer all day and was now living in his store and had to talk. Yikes.
Finally escaped and met up with Chris. We hung out, went out to dinner at Wang's and the over to Toucans, which was right next to the Shilo, where we were staying cause Villas is now closed and there weren't any gay resorts that like straight girls to stay too. At Toucans we met James, who is 40 and his boyfriend who's much older. James didn't like my book idea, Money Grubbing Whore too much - he said that it was too close to what he is. Oh well.
From there, Chris dropped me off at the hotel and he went out and had fun till 3:00.
Next morning (yesterday) I woke up, WENT TO THE GYM! And then drank coffee and read a book in the lobby so Chris could get some sleep. At 10:00 we got ready and packed, headed over to Rock Garden cafe for the best brunch ever and then went home.
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