Showing posts from May, 2012

It's Only Monday?

If it's only Monday, then why on God's Green Earth does it feel like a Wednesday?  Wednesdays are the WORST DAY OF THE WEEK PERIOD.  It feels like it's been a straight month of those nasty W-days.  But it is Monday.  The Hangout Festival is done - another file to move to the "past events" folder.  We went to gather our boxes today and the fences have vanished.  The smell of pot and body fluids has been replaced by fresh gulf breezes.  Traffic heading north on 59 was bumper-to-bumper.  Now that I've been here a year, I know and use the back roads to cut around the traffic.  I can't believe it's almost been a year.  The best, hardest year of my life.  The experiences I've had are priceless.  I can't sum up this job and people.  But I can tell you I've grown to love it.  I've gone through ups and downs, but I now see how precious time is. 

Nanny's been gone almost two months and I dream of her regularly.  In my dreams she is young, h…

On Death, Loss and Vodka

In my earliest memories of Nanny, she’s wearing a rainbow colored muumuu, smoking, and drinking an adult beverage out of a highly etched glass.I’m about five; we’re at the family home in South Huntsville, on Linbrook Drive.A big pool fills the back yard; here we spend most of the day splashing and lounging.Fast forward three decades and I’m standing at a podium, attempting to gain my composure.The words on the yellow sheet stare back at me.I begin to read:I am the ninth descendant of my mom’s mom and consider myself fortunate to spend 38 years as her granddaughter.
With a few deep breaths I completed the eulogy, returned to the wooden pew and cried.My uncle placed his hand on my shoulder.I cried harder.Nanny was gone.I was sad.We were all sad.We weren’t shocked.Her death came slowly, the last year of her life filled with hospital stays and pain.
My aunt called on Sunday just after 3:30 p.m.Twenty-six hours later I found myself at Nanny’s apartment as her body released its final breath.W…

The Fun in Dysfunctional

For work, we drive a lot.  Have I mentioned this?  I rarely drive my personal car, instead opting for one of three pool cars.  My favorite is the 2102 Taurus.  It is a powerful, comfortable car.  My other option is the Dodge Caravan.  It sucks.  In the Ford, I look sleek and sophisticated.  In the van I look like a granny.  In the Ford, awesome music always plays.  In the van, it's non-stop commercials, John Tesh, and REO Speedwagon. As I wrote this, four of us were in the van, heading to a chamber of commerce meeting. Even after working in a chamber of commerce for four years, I now spend more time in chamber meetings and luncheons.  We each were tired; everyone seemed a little grumpy and irritated with each other.  To counteract this, I sang along to the music:  Center field.  Put me in coach, I am ready to play, today.  I can be center field.  I won.

After work, I got home and took the boys on their walk before I went to class at the gym.  Poncho and I had the following co…

Oh, Really?

Who am I?  It's 16 minutes before 10 p.m. and I'm watching Justin Beiber on The Voice.  All four facts listed in the previous statement are absolutely true.  Two of them are a little unbelievable.  I am really watching Justin Beiber on The Voice?  Ugh.  Who am I?  I committed to watching this show on accident.  It comes on before Smash, my most favorite new show.  I stuck with The Voice.  I have no reason.  It is what it is. 

I spent part of the day on the road.  This is what I realize:  life is like drving.  Just get the fuck out of my way and we'll all be okay.  Don't lollygag in front of me.  Move the fuck over.  Aren't familiar with the term lollygag?  It was one of my nanny's words.  She also said you were telling "gollywoggles" when you made up stories.  But her favorite saying was, "Who's picking me up?"  It's been about five weeks since she's passed away.  I do miss her deeply.  Every few days she sends me a sign that sh…