Showing posts from April, 2014

Like a red rubber ball

So, in the 72 hours that Dad was in Hospice, we were visited by a number of people who gave us a lot of information to process.

Drinking from a firehose, we call it in my line of work.

One guy came by - he was the minister or... I don't know - he's a religious guy.

He told Mom that grief is circular.  I didn't know what that meant at the time.

All I know is tonight, it hit me in the face.  Like a frisbee.

I cried for a little bit.  I can't breathe through my nose now, but otherwise, I feel a little better.

Although I've got some aches and pains that are an ergo nightmare.

And I have a few hours left to get my expenses in for the month.  I hate doing expenses.


I have been needing some new bras, recently.  Both my nude and black basic bras were losing underwires, the boning was coming loose, they were all stretched out...  it was time.

So I tried Cacique (the lingerie arm of Lane Bryant) and found their selection lacking.  Also, I wasn't getting the right fit.  Or any customer service.

So Saturday, I headed over to Dillard's. and got the nice lady there to fit me.  Turns out, like every other woman on the planet, I was wearing the wrong size.

When she told me what I "should" be wearing, I thought - there's no way in Hell that's right.

Except it totally was.

And so I bit the bullet and bought three very expensive bras that bring me front and center.  And up high!

Anyway, nothing like three new bras to turn the day around.  One black, one nude, and off the clearance rack, one RED!


So, that started out my weekend just right.

Next up, a trip to California.  I have a customer who needs my training skills, and I n…

Friday? Good!

Let's go back to Good Friday, 2005.

Matt and I weren't married yet - we would be in another few months - but he was down for the weekend, and as is tradition in our family (for reasons I don't recall), we were having a Good Friday meal of barbecue. Mom, Dad, Matt and I were at Dreamland, eating pulled pork and drinking beer and just generally having fun.  My sister was flying in the next day, and on Sunday, my Aunt and Uncle were coming up for an Easter Brunch.

So, we're talking and Dad says he's been so busy getting ready, he hasn't dyed the eggs yet.  I pipe in that the eggs are something Matt and I can do, and Dad thinks about it for a second before agreeing - but tells us that we have to do a good job and make them pretty.

I'll stop for a second to explain how Dad did his eggs.  He always bought two of the standard Paas kits, and doubled down on the dye. Two tablets per container for a really dark, saturated color.

He would leave the eggs in for a good …

Two things

1.  I got a massage after work.  Needed it.  I feel SO. MUCH. BETTER.

2.  In addition to getting a lead to some Online Therapy (thanks CB), I had a visitor today;  a colleague I really like.  He said two things to me.  One, that he was sorry about my loss, and that two, it gets better. 

I don't know if he just knew I was in town and at my desk, or if I was sending out a high pitched distress call audible only to the bereft, he was there with the words I needed to hear, when I needed to hear them.

This lends to my theory that the Universe is a benevolent vending machine, which like the Rolling Stones, posits - you can't always get what you want.  But if you try sometimes, you just might find - you get what you need.

That's all.  For now, anyway.

Ross my Kubler, Elisabeth.

So, I'm apparently grieving, but I'm solidly stuck in anger.

Although, I'm not angry about Dad dying.

I'm angry about everything else.

For starters, my company gave everyone a raise of 3% for the year - but our management knocked a percentage point off of that for us, because we underperformed the previous year.

That sucked.

And now we found out, they did it again.  Our bonus was to be paid out at 70%, they're knocking ours down to 63%.  I am livid.

I mean, it's not the money (although it kind of it), it's more the principle - like, how much of his bonus is the CEO turning down?

So, there's that.

The other big frustration at the moment, is that I'm stuck at MDW  - That's Chicago Midway, for those of you who don't live and die by TLAs (3 letter acronyms).

I'm talking out loud, to myself at the airport.  In profane terms.  Which does nobody any good, and makes me look like a prize asshole.  Which I guess I am.

I have an appointment with m…

Cross Pollination

So, let it be duly noted - I like to write, and I'm not afraid to write about things that matter to me, even if it's for someone else's blog.

My colleague, Nate Brown, started a blog about Customer Service.

Customer Centric Support
I wrote an unsolicited post for him, because, well, I just did.  And he liked it and said he'd put it on his blog.

But first, he'd need a compelling photo.  I suggested the punching bag, and he took it from there:

Anyway, if you enjoy reading about Customer Service and seeing fun photography, I strongly recommend Nate's blog!


Old Ennui

So, it's Sunday morning.  I didn't sleep all that well - too hot, or I slept too much yesterday, or whatever.  But here I am at 8:30 on a Sunday morning.

The problem is, although I'm awake, I'm not motivated to do a damn thing.  I have two hours before I would need to leave to go to Zumba at the Y, which I definitely should do and totally don't want to do.

I did unload and reload the dishwasher.  Go, me.  Seriously, I fucking hate unloading the dishwasher.  Hate. Hate with the death of a thousand fiery suns.

But now, I'm in the den, which is a mess, and I can't seem to work up the fortitude to clean it.

I have a pile of laundry in the dining room, calling out to me to fold it...meh.

There's a package of thank you notes sitting next to me that I need to be writing, addressing and getting in the mail, stat.  That's not happening, either.

I know that if I were to un-ass myself, and get started on something, I'd feel better.

But I don't want to.


In the middle of the shitstorm, there's often a rainbow.

In my case, the rainbow came in the form of a customized stuffed animal.

Last year, after I lost Lola, I did a halfhearted search online to see about getting a custom stuffed animal made in her likeness.

I stumbled across this website:

Shelter Pups

I sent an email of inquiry, and didn't really hear anything back - so, I forgot about it - until this March, when they responded apologizing that they had gotten really backlogged, and if I was still interested...

Was I?  Is the Pope Catholic?  We'll assume he is for our purposes today.  Although, he's acting much better than his predecessors, so if they told me he was a Secular Humanist I wouldn't blink.

So with no time to waste, I sent in the form and several pictures of Lola.  Then about a week later, they e mailed me that she was done, and I could check her pictures out in their adoption center:

This proved to be an excellent distraction from the other stuff tha…

Restore Settings?

When something big happens, my first inclination is to get things back to "normal" as soon as possible.

I was like that when 9/11 happened.  That very night, I went to a play rehearsal, against my parents wishes.  But the show must go on, right?

Several years earlier, when my grandmother died, I had an Improv class that evening, and my father encouraged me to go because, "Life is for the living".

So, when Dad died, I was wondering just how fast I could get back to some semblance of normal.

And for me, the first benchmark for that seemed to be Facebook. 

It's totally dumb, and I know it, but FB is my favorite forum for personal expression. Even more so than my blog. I have a good number of friends on there, and they seem to enjoy what I post.  I've had friends of friends friend me because they think I'm funny.  And I'm fine with that.  I'm good with funny.  It's in my wheelhouse, my comfort zone.

When Dad got sick, I went off the grid for ove…

That long feller could sure write!

Here's a quick story about my parents, turning 40, statutes of limitations and nature.

I was nine when Mom turned 40.  My parents decided to have a big party.  Why?  Why not, am I right?

Anyway, the invitations, the paper goods, even the cake was decorated in a daffodil motif.  So, of course, as flowers went, we'd need daffodils.

My mother's birthday, as I think I've mentioned, is on April 2nd.  And unfortunately, the florists in our area were clean out of daffodils.  It was just too late for them.

What to do, what to do?  Dad didn't want to disappoint his lovely bride.  So, he happened to scope out an entrance to a subdivision near ours that had a bed full of perfect daffodils.  So Dad dropped off his two lovely daughters with the instructions to pick several handfuls while he circled the block.

Which we did.  And we did. 

He drove back around and we jumped in the car with our ill-gotten gain.

And Mom had daffodils for her party.

Now, there are several ways to lo…

A taste of honey...

I received a FB message from the mother of an old friend.  She told me that my friend, E, had lost her father several days earlier (and a few days after I lost mine) and asked her mom to get my e mail address, as E doesn't do FB.  E's parents divorced when we were in middle school, and she's close to both of them; and I absolutely loved them both.  After reading her Dad's obit, I wrote her the following.  Some names/identifying marks have been removed, but the letter speaks to some details about my last few weeks.


What a great, great obituary.  I know it completely sucks to lose him, but what a lovely, bittersweet last day for him.  I think it's amazing that he's donating his body to science!  And I love that he kept bees.  Honey lasts forever.
Having two whole weeks' more experience on this joy ride, I will give you a single piece of advice, and that is; in the rush of getting home, attending the celebration of life, dealing with all that has to be deal…

No. No thank you.

For nine years, I was devoted to the television show, How I Met Your Mother.

I've seen every episode but one (Lucky Penny, which I really need to hunt down).

I watched, even though my Zumba classes on Monday nights coincided with my devotion. I DVRed them and watched within the next day or so.

I know about the goat at Ted's birthday, the blue French horn, laser tag, Sandcastles in the Sand, and endless beers and rounds of Glen MacKenna.

I dreamed about this show, episodes that I wrote in my mind.  I've only done that with one other show, Degrassi High.  The original.  Please, the new generation blows.

Anyway - starting tomorrow, my Mondays are Motherless.

Last week the final episode aired.  Did I love it?  No.  No I did not.

Robin and Barney married, then divorced three years later. NOOOOOOOOOOO! Ted met the mother, Tracy, who was awesome, but then he waited seven years and two kids later to marry her.  WHY?????  That's so un-Tedlike.

And then, Barney impregnated a nam…


I came to Atlanta for the weekend to spend a little time with my Mom.  In the midst of all the stuff going down with Dad's death, his memorial service, etc., she had her 70th birthday this week.

For her 60th, Dad took her to Paris.  In a fit of great luck and unbelievable generosity, they also took me - to be the translator, errand runner and such.  It was magnifique.

This year, in lieu of taking Mom to Paris, I took her to brunch at Douceur de France - a little cafe near her house. It was delicieux!

Then, we went to the mall.  A great one.  Perimeter.

Nashville doesn't have one good mall - it has 2 OK ones.

Atlanta has two great ones, Perimeter and Lenox.  And an OK one, North Point. 

So, I bought an unplanned dress - it's gorgeous.  I also went to Lush and bought some hippy-dippy bath stuff.

But my real reason for going was to make use of Macy's Clinique Bonus Time.

Now, I don't wear makeup every day. I should, but I don't.

I have a friend who has encouraged …

I'll take it.

So, I have this friend, although I've never met her, so whatever. I think that doesn't preclude us from being friends.

Her name is Chuck Baudelaire.  She has a real name, but as I've never met her, I know her as Chuck, or Esther Blodgett, but really, that's not important.

She writes a blog, and it's pretty funny, so check it out.

Anyhoo, today she posted a Twenty Random Facts blog, an idea she borrowed from another blogger pal.  And I love to plagiarize, so here goes.

1.  I believe that the key to good plagiarism is knowing whether it's good enough to steal.

2.  I borrowed the phrase, "What's in the cats is in the kittens" from a book I read called Among School Children, by Tracy Kidder.  I read it in High School - it's a non-fiction book that follows a year in the life of Mrs. Zajac, a 5th grade teacher in Massachusetts.  It's a great book.  Her husband uses that expression, and so do I.  Relentlessly.

3.  I have been to 34 states.  One I…