May your New Year bring you joy-

I tend to view New Year’s resolutions as self-defeating prophecies personally. But then again I also consider stupidity to be the chlorine in the gene pool…

Goals in and of themselves I find a laudable thing, truly. It’s the setting of sweeping, all encompassing goals I find to be self-defeating. I’m not sure if it’s because I am by nature a pragmatist or it happens to be merely an aspect of my controlling nature, but not having a definable road map to achieve a goal is a recipe for failure as I see it. All of that said, I generally do not make New Years resolutions because intentionally setting myself up to fail seems rather silly to me. This year however I have made an exception to that hard and fast rule, I have indeed decided to make a few.

Those of you that have been listening to me whine for the past 12 months realize that on the whole 2008 sucked royally for me and mine. And when I heard they were actually adding a second to the clock this year, thus making 2008 one second longer to balance the atomic clock, I quite literally screamed “NOOOOO!” enough already, begone with you foul year, I wish to see nothing but the screen door hitting your misbegotten ass on the way out! Ahem, where was I… Oh yes, resolutions.

I really will be taking better care of myself this coming year. I fear I am in danger of not only total exhaustion, but also developing a major case of martyr syndrome. Let’s face it, that’s really an amazingly unattractive thing socially, and surely not a particularly charming one emotionally for those you inflict yourself upon. A large part of this will be reacquainting myself with the word NO. Deceptively small, but incredibly powerful my little friend is. While not turning my back on those I love and the duties I have taken upon myself, I will be recalling the concept of limits, and trying to put them into practice.

I further resolve to remember to tell the people I love and appreciate far more frequently how much I love them. While I don’t really think I’ve gone so far down the self absorbed route that I ignore any of them, I could frankly be a lot more proactive in the letting them know department… To all my friends in this lively little virtual family we’ve created, my genuine and heartfelt love and thanks for supporting me throughout all the fun and games of the last 12 months. And to those of you forced to listen to my dulcet tones whining away on the other end of the phone, your patience and love has been a gift beyond reckoning and truly kept me sane. Or in my case what I pass off as sanity.

Be safe, be well and peace and all good blessings upon all your houses. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go change into an evening gown so I can proceed to get drunk on my own couch.

Joy to the world, and all that jazz.

By way of the always interesting Citizen of the World a little Christmas meme. As I am sure y'all don't want to hear anymore whining, and surely no more youthful indiscretions.

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? A mix of both, I like a little variety. Plus, lets face it, some items can really be a pain in the ass to wrap.

2. Real tree or Artificial? Real, I’m allergic to artificial anything.

3. When do you put up the tree? When do you take the tree down? Up- December 14^th. Yes, really. That sucker gets pitched off the back deck by dark on New Year’s Day. Having the thing around for a month and a half sort of takes the festive part of it out of the proceedings for me.

5. Do you like eggnog? Yes actually, I have an excellent recipe, it uses rum, irish whisky and brandy- what's not to like? The commercial crap, not so much.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? A red bike on my 10^th birthday.

7. Hardest person to buy for? Baby Sister.

8. Easiest person to buy for? The Hurricane.

9. Do you have a nativity scene? No, I expect they’d take my agnostic card away..

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Depends on the recipient and how far behind I happen to be running.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? A truly hideous dress from my husband. And I do mean hideous! Coco was in heaven crying I tell you!

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? A Christmas Story.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? If I see something I know is perfect I pick it up, no matter the time of year.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? I am ashamed to admit, yes.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? That list is way too long to fit here.

16. Lights on the tree? White fairy lights.

17. Favorite Christmas Song? It’s a toss up"Bring a Torch Jeanette Isabella" or “I Saw Three Ships”

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Home, period. Long story involving childhood travels on Christmas Day.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? Yep.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Neither, a large red bow.

21. Open presents on Christmas Eve or morning? One on Christmas Eve, the balance of the loot they have to wait, because I’m sadistic like that.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? Rude, obnoxious behavior. OK, it’s annoying all the time, but seems to run rampant this time of the year.

23. Favorite Ornament theme or color? Three guesses and the first two don’t count..

24. Favorite thing for Christmas dinner? Someone else doing the dishes.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year? Well Santa, since you asked… World peace, a stabilized economy, and end to global warming. Oh, and if it’s not too much trouble I’d like a ticket to Mexico in my stocking and for my ass to look like it did when I was thirty.

May you all be well and safe and surrounded by those you love. And in the spirit of all the sharing my darling Wills has been doing with his favorite carols, here we have my two favorites.



And Gavin, forgive me for featuring the MTC, but it really is the loveliest arrangement I've ever heard of the song..

A Christmas Memory-

Mamma had an amazing way of bending reality to suit her needs of the given moment. I won’t say she mowed over opposition and adversity; she merely said “pardon me” and walked right on past. It was indeed denial on a truly virtuoso grade level...

Christmas was always a little strange around our house, and genuinely did get a tad weirder as the years rolled by. My folks were in the restaurant business, owned three of them actually, in three different towns. These people worked- as in all the damn time… Christmas was always to me one of those rare times we were all in the same place at the same time. As a child this was lovely, as I rolled into my teenage years, not so much.

Anydigression, the whole deal with my mother and Christmas was a two pronged attack- One it was a way for her to salve her guilty maternal conscience at her perceived shortcomings due to her work schedule, which always back fired horribly. Frankly all I ever wanted was just her there, but in typical fashion it had to be turned into a full blown Cecil B. DeMille epic of tasteful decorating, heaps of presents and loads of non stop eating and partying. In short, it was exhausting, not only to her but for everyone else. Two, it was her particular brand of molding the universe into what she needed it to be at its finest. Things may have been insane the rest of the time, but you better bet Christmas was going to be her lovely little snow globe of perfection, no matter what- get on board or get out of the way!

Christmas Eve 1976 was a prime example. My folks had a huge (and I mean huge- as in I’ve seen actual BARS that didn’t have bars this big) bar in the basement, and loved to throw parties. The annual Christmas Eve party was her crown jewel. The entire house was perfectly decorated and half the town showed up. As a kid I longed for Santas and reindeer with blinking noses and loads of flashing lights... nope, way too tacky for her. Now mind you it was all really quite lovely, but the average child really has little or no appreciation for something that belongs on the cover of a magazine, kids want that over the top stuff. As the years passed I resigned myself to getting my flashy fix at friend’s houses and quit nagging her about it.

Then there was the food. Dad used the kitchen at the restaurant and had half the staff working during down time getting it all put together. The restaurants were always closed on Christmas Eve, so the carting in and bar stocking and so forth would commence quite early that morning. Thus the day consisted of either staying the hell out of the way if you were little, or getting drafted into service once you were of an age to be put to use.

Brother #1 was actually managing the bar/nightclub at one of the restaurants at the time so he naturally got drafted to tend bar at the party, Brother #2 got drafted for heavy lifting and I was her main assistant and flunky. After playing assistant all day I was getting a little frazzled, so when she decided to send Brother #1 out to the liquor store for a forgotten bottle of VSOP before they closed, I begged her to let me go too because I really needed to get out of the house. She relented, I grabbed my coat and off we went...

En route I decided to break out the very thoughtful gift my boyfriend had given me and share with big brother... some particularly fine hash. We made it through the liquor store after only having been stopped 5 or 6 times by various people and got in the car and headed for home. We both decided a soda would be an excellent idea, so we side tracked over to the 7-11. A few blocks further I decided we’d damn well better hit the drug store for some Visine before we went home.

All told, I expect this took an hour and a half or so, since we detoured around the gold course one last time to blow another bowl... We pulled into the driveway and in the same breath both went “OH SHIT!” There she stood looking out the kitchen window with THAT look on her face. In my mind the theme from Jaws was playing at about 7 decibels... We were in truly deep shit. Barely missing a beat, brother dear hissed, “car trouble, work with it!” Well I decided to let him manage this situation and pray for the best, figuring he was the eldest after all, and was far more experienced in these matters. That and I was high as a kite and she was loaded for bear.

The man was smarter than I gave him credit for, it was indeed a known fact that the VW bus he drove was notorious for requiring a jump start at the most inopportune moments- she bought it. The fact she was well into her second bourbon and water no doubt helped us slide that excuse over the threshold, allowing us to escape to try and pull ourselves together. The thing that didn’t help was Brother #2 standing right behind her smoking an imaginary joint and trying not to laugh his ass off...

So the house was ready, the food was ready and it was time for us to all get ready- another component of this little tableau was naturally that we all had to be perfectly dressed and be utterly charming to the entire assemblage of guests.. Oy! In actuality, most of their friends were genuinely nice people. It just tended to be fairly tiresome at that point in the proceedings to have to be adorable.

So off I trotted to my bedroom to get dressed. You know, it’s kind of hard to do full face; hair and fancy dress when you’re that high... Thankfully by the time I was done getting ready I had more or less come down. Time for the last lap before show time, the generalissimo’s final inspection. House perfect- check. Bar ready- check. Food ready- check. Children presentable- check. Staff ready to roll- check.

**Side note, no they really didn’t force anyone to work Christmas Eve. Actually there was much currying of favor and jockeying of position amongst the line bitches and waitrons to score the party gig. The Old Fart may have been a rat bastard about some things but he did treat his employees exceptionally well and never served cheap liquor. The party gig involved a rather sizeable cash thank you from the old man, and a number of bottles of good booze in the kitchen. As long as no one got too plowed to function, he could have cared less how much got consumed.**

Herself would then order the candles lit, the luminaries placed out front and retire to freshen her drink and put the finishing touches on her ensemble while she and the old man got whatever they’d been bitching at one another about out of the way.

The boys were supposed to get the luminaries lit, but brother #2 told me to throw on my coat and help, and bring along a little something in my coat pocket... I guess he was put out over missing out on the earlier round. So we snuck around behind the garage after we got them lit and lo and behold-we had company. Seems a few of the staff had the same idea… Shortly thereafter 6 or 8 extremely stoned people came out from behind the garage just in time to note that the Chief of Police and his lovely wife had just pulled up to the curb.. That, my dears, is what we refer to as an “I’m so fucked” moment. I turned to see if any of my older, wiser compadres were going to step up to the plate and manage this situation and realized in one heart stopping second that the entire damn lot of them had abandoned me and headed for the house. So there I was, all by my little lonesome, high as a kite and convinced I was going to be the only teen aged girl in the town’s history to be hauled off to jail on Christmas Eve. Then the light bulb came on, just pretend you’re Mamma- simple. I strolled on up to the car opened Mrs. C.O.P.’s car door for her and wished them a Merry Christmas... Well he looked at me a little funny and said “Dora honey, why on earth are you out here in the cold?” Umm “lighting luminaries?? Y’all come on in the house before you freeze!”

So my very stoned little self was escorted into the house by Mr. Police Chief and the Mrs., only to open the door and see #1 and #2 standing there with looks of abject terror on their faces. Mamma greeted the lovely folks, instructed the boys to take their coats and sashayed with them on down to the bar..

#1 looked at me and shook his head and kept repeating “VSOP,VSOP..Very Stupid On (our) Part kiddo, very stupid.” Thus 1976 then and forever after became known as the VSOP Christmas….

And the rest of the evening? Let’s just say it was a long, long night..

Happy Thanksgiving!

Yes, I fully realize I’m a bit early. But given the week ahead it’s now or never kids..

It’s going to be a bit sad I expect not having the Old Fart around to arm chair chef the entire meal.. Not surprisingly holidays were all about the food in my household growing up. Presents and all are swell, but when do we eat and what are we having??? As he aged and allowed his daughters to more or less take over the turning out the feast duties, he resigned himself to parking on a barstool with a glass of wine and making sure the two of us didn’t do anything contrary to the proper way, ie: HIS way. With the exception of the dressing, because truthfully he really was the only one that made it right, and I’ve been trying for 20 or more years.

Dora, did you brine that turkey overnight?

Yes, Daddy of course I did..

Baby Sister, did you bring that bag of sage we cut this morning? I don’t want any of that dried stuff on the bird.

Yes Pop, it’s right here...

Dora, did you make cornbread last night so I can make dressing?

Yes Daddy, I did..

You made pecan and pumpkin pies, right?

Yes Daddy, look right over there on the sideboard..

And on and on it would go until supper time. Two grown women, one of them a genuine chef with a degree, being bullied by their father- comical actually. There is however a reason Baby Sister and I usually managed to finish a bottle of wine before dinner..

So here’s to you Daddy, we’ll miss you this year and I’ll sing “Alice’s Restaurant” just for you- And for you lucky souls that won’t be in the kitchen for the performance- take it away Arlo..





Peace and all good blessings upon all your houses.

I need a pick me up..

Normally new shoes do it every time. Something red in cashmere perks me right up. A long afternoon at the day spa? Oh hell yes that does the trick no matter how tapped out I am.

However, as it’s November, Christmas is right around the corner and the bills from the long stay in the hospital from hell are wending their way into the mail box- I really can’t bring myself to spend any money on my usual non chemical antidepressants right now. So I cleaned my closets instead… I am a very disturbed person in obvious need of help. But on the plus side, I found a belt that had gone missing months ago and the shoe shrine is all nice and reorganized.

Who am I kidding? Productive, yes.. but I really want a day at the spa, a new red cashmere wrap and new shoes. I am so, so shallow. Sorry, I’m just too bloody tired of it all to wax poetic about gaining new strength of character and so forth. I’m quite a character as it is, thank you very much and I just want one stress free, drama-less day that involves no one asking me questions, expecting me to fix things or take care of their issues!

Tantrum over, I promise. Back to being practical, pragmatic and calm now. Thanks for listening, now back to your regularly scheduled lives.

Tag- I'm it..

My dear Wills decided to distract me with the ever popular closest book meme- and then proceeded to tag my usual victims.. shame on you!

Anyway here's the game. Open the book nearest your computer (and be honest not something artsy-fartsy so you can impress everyone) turn to page 56 and post the 5th sentence, plus a bit before and after for context.

Humm, well right next to my computer is a copy of the Virginia POA Act, revised edition.. not so interesting, trust me on this. So the next closest being my bedside table. On the top of the precarious stack is So Me, by Graham Norton. Yes, I adore Graham Norton, sue me.

On St. Patrick's Day a film crew was in the bar we were in near Vie de France. The people I was with brought the camera crew over because I was Irish. They asked me how I was planning to celebrate the saint's day. Full of lager and confidence I replied "I'm going to drink and drink and then go home and get sick" Well, I learnt a valuable lesson about programme making. When it was broadcast on the news the piece wasn't about St. Patrick's Day, it was about new tougher drunk driving legislation and by the time they edited my comments into the piece, I looked like some sort of crazed killer. Thankfully I don't vomit any more.

Well I'll choose the following victims and leave it up to them whether they wish to play along or not- Oh Al dear, you really haven't enough serious things to do you know.. yes you may yell at me later. I'm sure Jeff is reading something interesting, as no doubt is Red and his partner in crime The Maine Gay. The lovely Miss Booda, having escaped incineration hopefully didn't pack all her books to prepare to decamp if needed.

Now, I think I need to go attend to the teetering tower 'o books next to the bed before they fall on me or one of the dogs in the middle of the night.

I give myself excellent advice, I however rarely ever take it.

I should have heeded my own advice, asking “What next?” is an open invitation to more chaos.. But no, I had to open my big mouth..

I have indeed been much absent from blog land here of late due to overwhelming responsibilities requiring my attention. Also things have been such that anything that was likely to come out of my mouth would merely sound like annoying whining, and we know how I detest that..

Anyway, my thanks to my VGP for letting me ramble on, I do expect however when I pop up on caller ID , you most likely have to debate whether you pick up the phone or not, as it must be getting tiresome! But my loving thanks to Tater Bug, Tony and Al for stoically listening to me babble.. And Wills, check your junk email box dear, just in case I’ve landed there.. that or you just don’t love me anymore, sniffle… And all the lovely emails have been much appreciated dears, and to those of you that didn’t get a response, you’ll just have to forgive me this time.

Let’s see, where were we? The Beast is home convalescing. I’m somewhat concerned that he’s not progressing quite as well as either the doctor or I had presumed he would, but then again I will take slow over not at all any day of the week. My darling one and only nephew (son of Brother #1) had a rather nasty accident and crushed his right hand, numerous pins and a lengthy surgery later it appears that he’ll regain full use and all will be well. The Hurricane broke his right index finger playing football a few days ago, no shock there, the kid ought to have his own triage nurse by now honestly. The following day Brother #1, a generally cautious and methodical man if there ever was one, tried to sever his left index finger at work. All is well, no permanent damage.

The coup de gras to the hand related accidents (weird, huh?) I tried to slice my left thumb off the Thursday evening before Halloween while carving pumpkins. Thirty some odd years of disemboweling jack ‘o lanterns with nary a scratch and I had to pick now for the spectacular accident. Five stitches- and I have very small hands. Actually I was laughing my ass off as I was driving home from the ER.. I called Baby Sister and she was convinced I finally went off the high board and into the deep end. Hey, laugh or lose your mind.

Let’s see, other than that I have been much occupied at work. The general getting a brand new practice up and running and getting ready for a large open house to debut Doogie Houser MD to the community. Well we all know how I love to throw a party, but I’m having a bit of trouble getting into it truthfully, but hopefully it will indeed be a swell affair. My house looks like a herd of wildebeest migrated through and I find it very dismaying as I really haven’t had the time to address the accumulating chaotic mess. I tried hiring a wife/Beast sitter, it hasn’t worked out so well. Swell idea in theory, in practice I guess I chose the wrong candidate. Figuring I needed the help, a friend was unemployed and getting desperate so I pay her and everyone wins, right? Not so much. How do you tell someone you genuinely like that you don’t pay for napping on the job, and the point was to help me out not create even more work for me?? I couldn’t really afford it to begin with, but I had no choice as himself is still in need of a caregiver for a little while yet and it's a little hard to ask for 5 or 6 weeks off from a job you just started and actually do NEED. Another note to self- don’t hire friends it only leads to trouble..

The entire Executrix thing has been not only mildly annoying, but somewhat more emotionally upsetting than I would have anticipated. And I’m here to tell you, shopping for headstones is a real major bummer.

See, I told you it would all just end up sounding like whining. Gee, I guess that’s because it is. Be well dears, be safe and enjoy the thought that 1/20/2009 is closer with every passing day!!!!!!!!!

Is this a karmic sign or am I just being hopeful??

For the three of you who care, there is an update on the general drama coming, I swear. But this was too funny to let it sit for a week until I got around to it.
Some couples play golf or whatever together, the Beast and I vote together. Romantic, I know. Anyway, we got up at the crack of dawn to go vote before I left for work. We figured there would be a wait, so I decided to bring a camp stool, get there by 5:30, pull up and drop him off while I found a parking place. We get to the VFD and the parking lot is a zoo and folks are parking a quarter mile away or more. Since he can’t walk much yet, I was still determined to drop him off and then park and hike it on over.

I pull into the parking lot and it was a total cluster fuck.. people generally being idiots and trying to invent parking places that don’t exist so they didn’t have to walk. Beastman tells me this is not working and he’s sure he can make it from a reasonable distance. So, I decide to attempt to extricate myself from the mess. Meanwhile an asshole in a Hummer and an asshole in an Escalade (both with McCain/Palin bumper stickers -naturally) decide to totally block the only thing that passes for an egress from this disaster, blissfully unaware or simply not caring that they had cut off everyone in the entire parking lot from the only exit.

After a good bit of tricky backing and turning and maneuvering I get to the point where I’m nearly out of this disaster and what happens? Another asshole in an F-150 (guess again what he was sporting on the back of his truck) cuts off my only escape route and refuses to move- in spite of the fact that even in pitch dark it’s painfully obvious there’s no where to park and no way out but the sliver of open driveway I was trying to get through.

At this point yours truly was a wee bit annoyed, so I figure the only way out is to back up a bit further on the grass and scoot along as close to the ditch line as I could. I hear a thump on the passenger side in the rear.. Not loud enough to be a car, and I know full well there’s not a single vehicle parked on the embankment, so I was naturally wondering what the hell I could have hit, as there’s not a lot of anything that passes for a light source in the parking lot I couldn’t really make it out.

The Beast, being a terminal back seat driver, had been looking behind also. Suddenly he starts laughing hysterically. When he finally caught his breath he says “Honey, you just ran over Sarah Palin!!”

Sure enough, I had creamed the cardboard cut- out of Caribou Barbie that was parked next to the big obnoxious McCain Palin sign. He then says “Really dear, I know you can’t stand the woman, but isn’t that taking it a little too far?” I proceed to go into convulsive laughter myself and managed to not only ruin my mascara due to the tears, but also manage to give myself the hiccups.

Here’s hoping it was a sign from above!!!! Have a swell election day my dears and go get yourselves to the polls!!!!

Anyone have a spare Xanax?

Because losing my shit isn't a luxury I have at the moment..

The Beast is not out of the woods yet, but the doc is cautiously optimistic. They were able to re-sect a substantial chunk of his sigmoid and if he heals properly no colostomy! Which would be a good thing, I figure it beats dead all to hell, but I'm thinking the big fella would be most unhappy should that occur. Can't say I blame him. But still, I'd rather have him alive with the bag if that's my only option, thank you very much.

The kids are actually handling this pretty well, all things considered. More than a little freaked out that this happened exactly a week after Grandpa died, but dealing with the situation well actually. After hearing the tale (granted there's morphine involved, but I know my husband and it no doubt happened exactly the way he relayed it) he was having severe stomach pain, tried the hot bath routine, jacked himself up on an insane amount of RX strength Motrin(like a moron) and passed out in the bedroom- thankfully the dogs got quite upset by this and licked and whined it appears until he came to and could dial 911.. They A) Will be getting a steak for dinner tonight and B) I will never again bitch about the mountain of dog hair on the floor, I swear. Free pass for life.

Note to self, just don't leave him alone anymore, he always lands in the hospital or does something stupid..

Off to the hospital to check in on him, and then home to do some financial projections. While we are thankfully very, very lucky in that we're well insured- I know all too well that the final liability for this fiasco is going to be most painful.

What next????

Actually I really don't want to know.

Daddy's service was actually lovely- Miles Davis, some preaching and I didn't lose my shit during the eulogy. Went back to Brother #2's house to spend the night and had planned on spreading Daddy's ashes in a particular spot on the Blue Ridge Parkway he loved- The entire tribe was up, fed and ready to roll.. And I'm telling you, herding cats is easier..

And then my cell rang. The Beast went in for emergency surgery this morning got a trio of perforations in his intestines patched back together. He's stable, but guarded.

Man this has been one seriously shitty week.

Here we go..

My thanks to you all for your kind thoughts, hugs and calls and emails of the past few days. Each and every one has helped make things easier. However, as my email server freaked on me totally I lost a few that I had yet to have had the time to reply to (Al, that was so very very dear- my response will have to wait until I can reconstruct)but I will get to it eventually.

Time to finish packing and hit the road in the morning. Be well dears, all your kind thoughts are packed in the bag with me for the trip south. And again, my thanks.

C'est fini..

The Old Fart slipped away fairly peacefully late yesterday afternoon. He hopefully felt no pain, and I was holding his hand- in theory I guess he's at peace, I can only hope that's the case.

This one's for you Daddy, I know it's one of your favorites since you loved Herbie and Miles so much.



See y'all later, I have to go plan a funeral..

Of all medical oxymorons..

I’ve always found “actively dying” to be the most peculiar, I do suppose it’s apt after a fashion however, as the body is actively trying to get it over and done with.

Daddy is in the last lap. Thankfully after pitching a fit, he’s comfortable and on enough morphine that he prayerfully doesn’t feel a thing. While I’m sad he’s sliding into that morphine induced comatose state for my brother’s sakes- I refuse to allow this to be painful for him, he’s had enough pain the past few years. While I have some small amount of guilt for being his own personal PCA (as Buddyboy aptly put it) I did tell them 4 days ago to get the hell up here if they had anything to say to him- the fact that they waited till now isn’t my fault. As both of them know I don't kid about that sort of thing and I surely don't make pronouncements of that nature unless I'm pretty damn sure I'm right..

My little break for my head is nearly over, and I have to go back to being the family pragmatist (bitch) and make with more phone calls and arrangements and such before I head back to the hospital.

Be well my dears, and call someone you love today just for the hell of it.

Crappy video-

great song.. I always loved these guys. and I bet you money Sling drank cheap brown liquor (or something involving a worm) with these guys.. Sometimes you just need a little silly.

Listen to me now-

It has been said more than once that physically I am a carbon copy of my Mamma, but I am my Daddy's daughter.. True enough. After unloading the baggage and trying to have a genuine relationship with the man, I realize that with water, bridges etcetera, we can only find some middle ground and truthfully will probably never come to genuine understanding, and certainly no thunderous moment of revelation on his part in respect to past and present. But if nothing else I know he loves me as much as he is capable of, and as a parent he did what he could with what he had. Baby Sister's theory is that might be why I tend to try and be Wonder Mom sometimes. Perhaps yes, perhaps I just really dig my kids and love watching them turn into viable competent, compassionate, fully functioning adult humans.. That's my story and I'm sticking with it. Personally I think we won the big genetic lotto in that department and I'm pretty well eternally grateful.. random chance won out here totally, and I am in no way looking that gift horse in the mouth.

Either way I have a little time to finish mending the remaining fences and I plan on trying to do exactly that. Mamma went out of the blue, and there was much left unsaid. I don't care to have a repeat performance. His love of music made me sing. His love of architecture and graphic design gave me a pretty damn good critical eye, his love of food and wine gave me an appreciation of a much wider world than a girl from a small town would normally have (pre-internet) and his very liberal political views gave me a window on compassion and a hope for the way the world could be if we just got our collective shit together as a species.. So the total asshole parts I'm just letting go, plain and simple.

So, Tony stick the pencils in you ears.. or just look up the lyrics- For everyone else, this pretty well sums it up in a nutshell.



Have a swell weekend darlings, I'm going to feed the family unit and go see the Old Fart..

And there you have it-

My word, there’s been an awful lot going on!

Doogie Houser MD land has been most intense as I have been trying to get the big empty space stocked with all the furnishings and general stuff and training staff and trying to liaison with the EMR company from hell.. Along with a bazillion other little minor details.. My head hurts.

The family isn’t dealing with the whole Mom works half an hour away thing too well; the adjustment is proving to be most difficult. Unlike my darling Cuz Lorraine, I’m not getting quite the pitching in commitment I was lead to believe I was going to have… In his defense the shit has hit the fan for him at work, and he just doesn’t multitask..

Daddy is back in the hospital- the Doc finally came straight with me and told me he pretty much has about six months to live. The right side of my brain is in no way surprised, the left side is devastated. The number of decisions to be made are mind boggling- Unfortunately I really can’t drop this bomb on Baby Sister till next week-

Why? She’s in the most intense week of her professional life at the moment, and in spite of the fact her bosses adore her, she really has borne the brunt of the care giving and can’t take any timeout until the big bosses are gone- give it two weeks if she’s lucky.. I can’t lay that on her right now.. So Daddy goes to Rehab again and we find a good and safe place for him to go.. Neither of us can quit work to be 24/7 caregivers right now, so it is what it is..

But somehow I still feel guilty..

And thanks t o the best virtual gay posse ever for keeping me sane

Finally, a verbalization of my thoughts-

and my utter moral nausea.. But then again Keith Olbermann usually has an amazing way of verbalizing precisely what I'm feeling.

Well I thought it was absolutely hysterical..

So I was at the bank waiting for the most awesome teller in the world, Babs, to finish taking care of a little phone transaction before she could wait on me yesterday. And for the record- she really is awesome, I go way out of my loop to deal with her whenever possible. Any way..

As I'm standing there idly staring around the lobby of the lovely old building I notice the FDIC sign that's in every bank in the US-

FDIC NOTICE

"Deposits backed by the full faith and credit of the United States Government"

I busted out in hysterical laughter and thought "Well aren't we all screwed?" I literally laughed so hard I was nearly in tears.

I think my old buddy Babs is now convinced I've finally slipped my leash.

Closets

Both metaphorical and literal..

All my loyal readers (all three of you) are well aware that I am in the blogging closet. Why? As previously noted this is my space to vent my various petty personal annoyances and random stupidity, with the occasional light- hearted fluff thrown in for good measure. Since most of said venting involves those nearest and dearest, having to severely edit myself would more or less make that impossible, no?

Recently a blogging buddy of mine inquired as to why I refrain from tackling the “larger: issues” more frequently- as I have no compunctions about littering the internet with vocal opinions on a variety of subjects using this nom de guerre, among others. Well dear heart, since you asked..

I need a place to process, a non -judgmental little hole to retreat to from time to time where the regulars are pleasant and quite charming. Sort of like the bar I worked in through college.. I like having a quiet little corner sans invective (other than my own naturally) that my over the top little self can just be my over the top little self. Self- editing takes many forms after all. In the course of a day I am a mother, daughter, sister, friend, businessperson, boss and involved community member. In all those various daily roles, in reality a small portion of the real me requires some judicious editing. In the end we all are a construct of the various aspects of our lives and personality when it comes to the totality of our psyche. I respect and admire people that can just lay the entirety of their life out there for all the world to see. I simply happen not be one of those people. Frankly many of the people I encounter daily I really have no desire for them to know any more about me than they need to.

Ah well, still waters may run deep my dears, but the turbulent ones often run far deeper, and with far more tumultuous currents.

Now, you’ll have to excuse me as I must clean out the shoe shrine and tidy up my closet in preparation for having to get back to showing up at a “real” office again every day next week. I rather think I’m ready for it, but I must admit, being able to work in jeans and my favorite old red cashmere sweater whilst barefoot with no make up has been rather a pleasant break from the prior 20 years of pulling out the suit and heels five days a week.

Email from the great unknown

If it's spam, they must know me quite well! I must say I found the following quite illuminating dear hearts, read on.. (Not that she didn't scare the shit out of me already mind you)

John McCain just celebrated his 72nd birthday. If elected, he'd be the oldest president ever inaugurated. And after months of slamming Barack Obama for "inexperience," here's who John McCain has chosen to be one heartbeat away from the presidency: a right-wing religious conservative with no foreign policy experience, who until recently was mayor of a town of 9,000 people.

Huh?

Who is Sarah Palin? Here's some basic background:


--She was elected Alaska's governor a little over a year and a half ago. Her previous office was mayor of Wasilla, a small town outside Anchorage. She has no foreign policy experience.1

--Palin is strongly anti-choice, opposing abortion even in the case of rape or incest.2

--She supported right-wing extremist Pat Buchanan for president in 2000. 3

--Palin thinks creationism should be taught in public schools.4

--She's doesn't think humans are the cause of climate change.5

--She's solidly in line with John McCain's "Big Oil first" energy policy. She's pushed hard for more oil drilling and says renewables won't be ready for years. She also sued the Bush administration for listing polar bears as an endangered species—she was worried it would interfere with more oil drilling in Alaska.6

How closely did John McCain vet this choice? He met Sarah Palin once at a meeting. They spoke a second time, last Sunday, when he called her about being vice-president. Then he offered her the position.7
This is information the American people need to see. Please take a moment to forward this email to your friends and family.

We also asked some people who watch Alaskan politics what the rest of us should know about their governor. The response was striking. Here's a sample:

She is really just a mayor from a small town outside Anchorage who has been a governor for only 1.5 years, and has ZERO national and international experience. I shudder to think that she could be the person taking that 3AM call on the White House hotline, and the one who could potentially be charged with leading the US in the volatile international scene that exists today. —Rose M., Fairbanks, AK

She is VERY, VERY conservative, and far from perfect. She's a hunter and fisherwoman, but votes against the environment again and again. She ran on ethics reform, but is currently under investigation for several charges involving hiring and firing of state officials. She has NO experience beyond Alaska. —Christine B., Denali Park, AK

As an Alaskan and a feminist, I am beyond words at this announcement. Palin is not a feminist, and she is not the reformer she claims to be. —Karen L., Anchorage, AK

Alaskans, collectively, are just as stunned as the rest of the nation. She is doing well running our State, but is totally inexperienced on the national level, and very much unequipped to run the nation, if it came to that. She is as far right as one can get, which has already been communicated on the news. In our office of thirty employees (dems, republicans, and nonpartisans), not one person feels she is ready for the V.P. position.—Sherry C., Anchorage, AK

She's vehemently anti-choice and doesn't care about protecting our natural resources, even though she has worked as a fisherman. McCain chose her to pick up the Hillary voters, but Palin is no Hillary. —Marina L., Juneau, AK

I think she's far too inexperienced to be in this position. I'm all for a woman in the White House, but not one who hasn't done anything to deserve it. There are far many other women who have worked their way up and have much more experience that would have been better choices. This is a patronizing decision on John McCain's part- and insulting to females everywhere that he would assume he'll get our vote by putting "A Woman" in that position.—Jennifer M., Anchorage, AK

So Governor Palin is a staunch anti-choice religious conservative. She's a global warming denier who shares John McCain's commitment to Big Oil. And she's dramatically inexperienced.

In picking Sarah Palin, John McCain has made the religious right very happy. And he's made a very dangerous decision for our country.

In the next few days, many Americans will be wondering what McCain's vice-presidential choice means. Please pass this information along to your friends and family.


Sources:


1. "Sarah Palin," Wikipedia, Accessed August 29, 2008
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sarah_Palin

2. "McCain Selects Anti-Choice Sarah Palin as Running Mate," NARAL Pro-Choice America, August 29, 2008
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=17515&id=13661-3372013-rnyyNpx&t=1

3. "Sarah Palin, Buchananite," The Nation, August 29, 2008
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=17736&id=13661-3372013-rnyyNpx&t=2


4. "'Creation science' enters the race," Anchorage Daily News, October 27, 2006
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=17737&id=13661-3372013-rnyyNpx&t=3

5. "Palin buys climate denial PR spin—ignores science," Huffington Post, August 29, 2008
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=17517&id=13661-3372013-rnyyNpx&t=4

6. "McCain VP Pick Completes Shift to Bush Energy Policy," Sierra Club, August 29, 2008
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=17518&id=13661-3372013-rnyyNpx&t=5

"Choice of Palin Promises Failed Energy Policies of the Past," League of Conservation Voters, August 29, 2008
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=17519&id=13661-3372013-rnyyNpx&t=6

"Protecting polar bears gets in way of drilling for oil, says governor," The Times of London, May 23, 2008
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=17520&id=13661-3372013-rnyyNpx&t=7

7 "McCain met Palin once before yesterday," MSNBC, August 29, 2008
http://www.moveon.org/r?r=21119&id=13661-3372013-rnyyNpx&t=8

Yet another reason -

I love my dear Cuz Lorraine..



As always, hysterical. And spot on!

"It's getting breezy here in New Orleans", she said..

I'm pretty terrified. Spoke with Buddyboy and Mrs. Buddyboy- they're staying in NOLA. I got fairly hysterical when he dropped this bomb.. He figures he's a doctor, he moved there because the people needed doctors and he's not going. So if he's not going, she's not going. "Oh we live Uptown, it doesn't flood here". Yeah well flying debris, lack of electricity, massive flooding everywhere else and looters might be something to take into consideration! Just sayin'.. And hell, NO ONE IS THERE!! All the smart people got the fuck out- so who ya gonna doctor there smart guy?? The last message was "There's not a soul in sight and it's getting rather breezy." Jesus, Joseph, Mary, Allah, Mohammad, Shiva, Kali, Buddha and all the rest of y'all please bestow the blessings of safety on his stubborn ass (and herself and the cats as well, especially my boy Elvis) I beg you!!

Where will we go with the cats he asks? The fucking Super 8 in Houston sounds good to me! Drive the fuck back to Virginia- somewhere, anywhere but there!!! But he's a stubborn, stubborn man, no amount of my hysteria is going to move him. I am trying not to obsess, the family took away the remote and has denied me access to the Weather Channel.

Mr. Charles and Edgar are safe at his sister's in Arizona enjoying a bit of a dry holiday. He was the smart one, he got out early! Doogie Houser MD and his family were en route back from a holiday in Mexico when all inbound flights were cut off- so they're stranded in Houston. Which is probably a good thing. Packing up the baby and the Pops and Mom and sitting in gridlock on the interstate heading for, why yes -Houston, would have sucked. Gonna make it really hard to sell the house however.. Pretty sick irony right on the heels of the Katrina anniversary, huh? But to their credit they are doing a pretty good job getting folks evacuated. With the exception of stubborn people. And even if they order mandatory evacuation, he's crucial hospital staff (He up and volunteered) so I guess it's too late now.

I hope all the residents of the Gulf coast and all the islands that have been so hard hit already come through this safe and sound! And here's hoping Hanna veers back out to sea and Gustav doesn't reach category 5 prior to landfall.. Even if you don't pray folks- think good thoughts.

Well that year just flew by..

According to Jeff's new math I'm 1007 today.. And I actually feel like it too.

I think I'll go treat myself to some moisturizer.. and a bottle of champagne.

Paging Miss Dora's Mojo!

Please meet the rest of your party at the courtesy desk.. Motivation, Organization and Confidence are waiting for you…

I’m treading water here dear ones, truly. Time was when I was motivated, organized and a force to be reckoned with. When my feet hit the floor in the morning Satan shuddered and said to himself “Oh shit! She’s awake!” What the hell has happened here? The sloth of working out of the house? I don’t think so really, I got things done in a timely basis. Old and lost my edge? Guess it’s possible. The last couple of months I seem to be simply reacting and putting out fires. Both domestic and professional. I’m procrastinating as opposed to organizing and dealing with the chaos. In short I’m a bloody mess and had best get my shit together in real short order. And I do mean REAL short order..

I really am looking forward to the new job- he’s a swell guy, I genuinely like him and get his vision. And this is the sort of challenge that once upon a time got me fired up, made me take charge, put on my big bitch pumps and make things happen. As opposed to feeling in over my head and overwhelmed.. And if I fuck this up, this nice earnest young doctor gets fucked (along with his family) in the process.. And mine too ultimately.

I really need to find my mojo- so if you see the bitch, please tell her to get her ass home pronto!!

Free to a good home-

16 year old female child. 4.65 weighted GPA, fairly well mannered. Smart mouth and perverse sense of humor. Serious inquiries only.

References required.

Whenever I'm feeling particularly ill tempered..

I walk out on the back deck and look at this view-

The world really can still be an awfully pretty place.

Off to play paintball with a gaggle of jacked up 11 year olds for the Hurricane's birthday. I expect I'll have to take a walk out to look at the view this evening..

I'm back Dear ones!!!

Much like Katrina, the brave souls of NOLA survived me hitting town too.. I had a ball! In spite of the ghastly heat, the rain, the oil spill and the grumpy husband (he had to actually WORK) I sashayed forth and had myself a fine time.

So the recap -cause I promised Tate, Wills and Tony. And fair warning to Al, syntax, grammar, punctuation and proper usage went right on out the door with this one honey..


The trip down was more or less uneventful. I however must state for the record I hate flying. Not the actual being in the air part, that bothers me not one whit. The bullshit that now accompanies getting in and out of the airport before one can actually embark or disembark one’s flight has become damn near unendurable as far as yours truly is concerned. The trip back? That's a whole 'nuther very long post in and of itself..

Anyhoo.. got in late, so we more or less grabbed a drink, ate and fell in bed. Sunday was hot, but pleasant- did a walkabout with the Beast. The heat was more than he could manage, so we decided to take in a movie just for the hell of it- not to mention the air conditioning!

Beastman had to start actually working Monday, so little ole’ me unleashed herself on the unsuspecting citizens of La Nouvelle Orléans for the rest of the week. Long, long meanders through the Vieux Carré. No particular destination, which in my opinion is the best sort of walk to take after all.. And lovely long strolls up St. Charles, turning left or right depending on the mood of the moment.

The thing I adore about NOLA, aside from the genuinely friendly folks, is the fact it’s one of those cities I always feel genuinely at home in. I like visiting LA, but I feel like a stranger in a strange land, ditto for NY (ironic that I lived there a bit) and Miami. There are a few cities however that I have instantly fallen in love with and could quite happily settle down in- Savannah, Charleston, San Francisco and NOLA. And oddly enough I am generally taken for a citizen of said fair cities when there, which says nothing about me, but speaks volumes about the manner in which I felt welcomed into those lovely places.

Yes, I digress, as usual..

So I ate, and ate and ate.. Dressed up, why yes I can tell you’re shocked. Indulged in retail therapy, had some fab cocktails- dang do I love Herbsaint and Sazeracs- boy howdy!! And walked an insane amount, given the heat.

OK, you’re bored- so the highlights..

Hanging with my dear sweet Buddyboy (and Mrs. Buddyboy)- numero uno and the entire reason I decided to be baggage on this trip. The new house is lovely. Up St. Charles and 4 blocks riverside on a street that discretion keeps me from naming.. We had a delightful visit and a long chat, followed by an exquisite late lunch at La Petite Grocery on Magazine St.. to die for!! Fantastic! Went back to the house and had another long chat fest before I had to head back downtown. As usual it was a bittersweet state of affairs, consisting of him joking about convincing me to move and me pointing out the painfully obvious.. Both of us managed not to cry. OK, I did get a bit teary on the streetcar, I admit it. It’s hard to be reminded someone that close to you emotionally is so far away physically. And we had a lovely lunch the following day and a bit shorter visit- not like the man can just stop working for me.. So I was happy as always to spend some time with my dear friend, and very sad at parting. Email and phone calls are all well and good, but for people that have known one another so long they can finish each other’s sentences and have a conversation with a few well-placed expressions, the distance can be a bit sad.

Went to Dickie Brennan’s for dinner with the big bosses (doing the charming wife thing- yes, I know that’s one hell of a stretch) and John Goodman held the door for me like a perfect gentleman.. He's really lost a lot of weight.

I met the most adorable retired drag queen, henceforth known as Mr. Charles. It was early in the morning and raining so my umbrella and I went walking. I think that’s a great time to see any city myself, as the tourists stay in. So I took a walkabout with no particular destination.

Way the hell down near the end of Chartres I see a very wet Scottie running down the middle of the street about to have an unpleasant altercation with a trash truck. The little guy way trailing a leash, so I just grabbed for it (sorry but I really had no desire to get squished either) and reeled him in. Thankfully do harm done! Well I checked the little guy’s collar and it said “Edgar” and had a phone number. Humm, since I had Monsieur Edgar, an umbrella and a bag in the pouring rain I decided to set off in the general direction he came from prior to trying the juggling act of dog, umbrella, bag and cell whilst reading his collar..

About two blocks down an older gentleman in a white linen suit (obviously bespoke) started with a pearl clutching wail of “Edgar, you nearly ended my life!!!” Well, I rightly assumed we had found Monsieur Edgar’s Daddy.

Well bless his heart, the dear thing thanked me and offered me breakfast and I really did attempt to refuse.. I think the term we’re looking for is “force of nature”. Granted I was going to walk him on home anyway since I had a dirty shivering doggie in my arms that would have totally trashed his suit,. and the old dear had both a cane and umbrella.. I agreed to walk home with him for the aforementioned reason but stated quite clearly that I had no intention of putting him out..

He clearly had other intentions, or merely chose not to hear me. My money is on the former as opposed to the latter.

We entered an apartment I can only describe as “apartment as a Fabergé egg”, or Diana Vreeland’s apartment in miniature. Nope, never been there, but I’ve seen enough pictures.

Well I was pretty well a soaked, muddy mess and terrified of the upholstery and carpets.. He tried to collect the dog but I opted to ask for a towel before letting Edgar near that suit! So, with Monsieur Edgar dried off, and comfortably being chastised (i.e.- loved within an inch of his little life) Mr. Charles instructed (I think demanded is closer) me to go dry off and wash up for breakfast. Let’s just say that was a Yes Ma’am situation.. Those of you that know me well realize I can be a bit forceful myself– so you can imagine the type of personality it takes for me to be obedient..

What an utterly delightful morning! After I tided up as best I could, Mr. Charles made me coffee, forced me to take a healthy snort of Herbsaint (to ward off a chill- umm humm) and took me on a tour of his precious apartment. Aside from the fact that it was absolutely gorgeous, the pictures were beyond fascinating! Mr. Charles and his partner (who passed in 2003) all over the world, Mr., Charles in full drag as a headliner in the late seventies through the eighties. Part of me felt so sad that he had lost his love of nearly 50 years, but part of me felt so happy that he had such a wonderful time- and frankly still was enjoying life. Anyway the old dear insisted on breakfast and I refused unless I cooked ;) So we fussed in the kitchen together. We came up with an unusual variation on eggs benedict, but it was pretty damn good if I do say so myself. An interesting morning, and a lovely new friend. Since he doesn’t do electronics, we’ll continue the friendship via snail mail. Damn, I hope my personalized stationary is up to snuff.. it's engraved, y'all think that will be OK??

*An aside- I did go back to say goodbye to the old dear before I left (and show him all the dresses I bought) and the hugs and tears made me feel like I really was taking leave of an old and dear friend, funny, huh??

Let’s see, after that I could recount all the meals in minutiae and so forth and bore you to tears (why yes, I am actually aware you probably got there quite some time ago) but let it suffice to say it was lovely, other than those couple of being the obligatory charming wife bits with the big bosses.. I had a hell of a good time.

I’m awfully pleased I talked myself into it.