Spawn

Name:
Location: Central Texas

I'm tired.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Been laying (very) low

Whoda thunk I would find myself in this very exact spot, this place where I need to seamlessly, and without dropping anything, juggle the family I came from, the family I built, the doggie I care for, the child I keep alive, myself, and the rest of the world, which refuses to understand that I need to hide in a closet with a book for about three weeks? Not me, that's for sure.

Mom's funeral mass is this Thursday. That, at least, is taken care of. But there are flowers to either order or arrange, and I'd like to have a photo on the table at the service, as well. Which means I have to have one blown up or something, because the one I'm thinking of is a 5x7. Does Kinko's do that? Should any company with a name like Kinko's be involved in a funeral? And yes, I'm leaning toward doing the flowers myself for a few reasons. One, that's how I am, and those of you who have known me longer than 20 minutes should be thinking, "Well, DUH!" Two, it would be both cheaper AND more meaningful, and three, I could pick out the colors I really want instead of letting some giant company who thinks only white flowers are appropriate make the decision for me. And maybe you're asking yourself, "Self, does Stef have a single clue about flower arranging?" Yes, I do, but it is only ONE single clue. Fear not, because if there's one thing I'm pretty good at, it's artsy shit. I'll arrange the crap outta those flowers. And then when the mass is over, I'll leave them at the church for the Virgin. Yes, I know: Catholics=Weird. We give flowers to Mary. Sometimes, we also make clothes for her.

Have I called anybody, like the banks or the Social Security office or the Teamsters, who are sending her money each month, that she has passed on? Nope. I've been waiting for elves to do it, but the little assholes haven't shown up yet. The tooth fairy shows up when the Girl loses a tooth, for Heaven's sake--you'd think I could get a few measly elves after the death of my mother. Is this a grownup vs. kid thing? Like only kids get the otherworldly helpers and adults get jack? Because really, only my body has grown up. The rest of me? Totally immature.

I have nothing appropriate to wear to the mass, either. Really, what IS appropriate? I have a black skirt, but no good blouse. I have some dressy black shorts, but that just seems like sacrilege. Scandalous in the way Mom used to be vaguely scandalized by the nun who lived next door to me in college: Sister Nancy. Being used to things like Sister Immaculata, Mom said she might as well have been Sister Taffy. The only black shoes I have are a 4- or 5-inch wedge with fake cherries on the toe. Again we're at sacrilege. Do I really need to wear black? Can't I wear red? Red in celebration of Mom's cool new address? Because I know it has GOT to be better than what she had here. Okay, I should probably go shopping tomorrow.

My house is a sty of epic proportions, into which Dad and Jan will be stepping tomorrow night. This means that tomorrow, while I'm buying/arranging flowers, blowing up and finding a frame for a photograph, and shopping for appropriate clothes, I'll also be cleaning! Okay, maybe doing the flowers myself is NOT a good idea. Also, maybe Dad noticed sometime in the past 42 years that I'm a slob. Why am I acting like it'll be a big surprise that this place is littered with weird detritus? That's my normal state. I attract detritus and chaos. Hell, I need to face that I AM detritus and chaos. I had planned on cooking trout tomorrow night for dinner. Somebody ELSE cooking suddenly seems like a much better idea. Don't you think?

And then yesterday, I dropped a urine sample off at Moe's doctor, who called today and left a message saying to call back to discuss the results, at which point, my head exploded, and then after I scraped what was left of my brains off the walls and packed them back into my skull, I thought, "WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS!?" because normal results, results that do NOT indicate that the cancer as returned, are usually just left on the answering machine. On top of everything else, do I really need to have my heart break yet again over my doggie? Turns out, they found undifferentiated crystals in his urine. Know what those mean? NOT TOO DARN MUCH! I graciously didn't tear the doctor a new butthole, but instead just felt an enormous sense of relief, and gave Moe a rub on the head. So really, he isn't part of the juggling routine so much. He's fed, walked twice a day, and is packed full of flea, tick and heartworm preventative, as well as expensive NSAIDs for the rest of his life. He is not a problem, but in fact, a solution. At least when he's not barking.

Add this to the fact that we are quickly coming up on the day that everything needs to be at ACE to make sure the Girl has a school to go to next year, and with everything that's been going on, I have no idea what they do and don't have. I suspect I'll have to just show up there and do what I can. School coming up means I'll have to do the back to school shopping thing, but thankfully not too soon, and make sure the Girl has clothing to wear. (Nakedness is frowned upon at ACE.) Going back to school is a good thing, because I then get to go back to work, which I occasionally find myself aching for these days.

Finally, my favorite time of the year is also quickly approaching, which means I have to create a Cleopatra costume--and you all know I'll be going somepletely overboard about that--AND I have to plan a party. Luckily, I think I can deal with letting someone else do most of the work this time. She'd like to have a mad scientist party, and so I think I'm going to hire Mad Science ( http://www.madscience.org/locations/austin/ ) to come and take care of the entertaining part. I'll just have to provide the venue and the snacks. I can do that.

Then Thanksgiving happens, and then Christmas, and sometime next year I hope to take (and pass) the state board exams.

I'm tired.

Monday, July 06, 2009

This is my 100th post. Jeez.

I wish I could show it the hoopla and fanfare it deserves, 100 times I've managed to impart some deep and important wisdom, but I don't know that I can.

Mom died yesterday, and I was hoping to be able to write something here that meant something, because as Mom used to say, "Come UP with something. . . YOU'RE the WRITER!" Yes, Mom, I am, but right now the words don't want to come so easily. I'm busy learning too late that you were more than I thought. I think it'll be impossible to know all the lives you've touched, but I'm beginning to suspect it was a huge number, and that you were well-loved in all corners. But those are the only words I can part with right now.

I have to write an obituary for the newspapers. I had to buy clothes for "the box" as Grandma used to call it, today. I sat for an hour and a half at a funeral home. And I am happy for Mom. She deserves the comfort and joy that I've been told time and time again she's got now.

How do I keep from being maudlin? Or irreverent? But then again, she WAS irreverent. Funny how it seems like the times when you most need to say something are the same times your brain shuts down and locks the door.

Pooh, and pooh again.


This picture is far cheesier than I usually go for, but it made me cry again.

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Think it means anything?

So here's the constellation of--I won't call them symptoms, exactly--things that have happened today.

1. Got very dizzy off and on today for a space of about 40 minutes.
2. Sight in my left eye became fuzzy for about an hour or so, a few hours after #1, above.
3. Vague headache now.
4. I either just saw a ghost or something ethereally white sped through my vision.

What's that all sound like? Tumor? Steadily increasing intracranial pressure? An incipient burst aneurysm? Bot-fly larva? Poltergeists? WHAT!?