Until next time.

Hi all.  It has been a while.

This will be the final post on Phyllis.  Sorry bitches. 

Gram passed away on St. Patrick's Day and it just doesn't feel right to keep on posting here.  However, I will eventually start somethin' else and hope you will follow me there.

People have asked sista if I was planning do a final post and while I feel strange doing so, I owe it to Gram and her followers. 

I am not used to the fact that she's not here and I randomly cry at the thought.  My aunt put it best when she said she thought she'd live forever.  I did too.  

I am so very sad that she's not here to make me laugh anymore, but I am happy she's at peace.  I am also happy because she knows I will be okay.  She met the love of my life.  NO, not salsa con queso.  The bf.  She loved him.  So much so that she gave JP slobbery kisses on his neck every time she saw him.  I think she enjoyed visits from him almost as much as visits from me even if he is addicted to drugs. http://phyllisismyhero.blogspot.com/2010/11/must-love-gran-crackers.html#links

I had the honor of giving Gram's eulogy.  I hate public speaking more than slow mall walkers.  I somehow managed to get through it. I  even looked at the crowd!  That part was easy because I can't see for shit.  Anyway.  Here's to Gram:

Gram was the strongest woman I know.  She had to overcome many obstacles and hardships throughout her life.  When she was just 29 years old, her husband died and she raised three daughters on her own while working many jobs to support them.  Education was very important to Gram with each daughter going on to become successful college graduates with careers in healthcare and education.

Not only did Gram raise a family by herself in the 50’s, a time when it wasn’t typical for women to work outside the home, she was a three-time cancer survivor.   I remember her complaining if we had more French fries than her on our plates at Friendly’s, but never once about treatments or the many doctor appointments.

Gram was always there for me, for us.  Irish dancing, soccer games, basketball games, graduations, spelling bees, first day of school, last day of school, fifth day of school.  Every day.  She was there for us.  My dad liked to joke that she would drop off a pencil just so she could see us.  She loved her family more than anything and we all loved her.

My favorite thing about Gram was her sense of humor.  She made me laugh more than anyone.  There are too many stories to tell, but I will touch on the memories that stick out in my mind.

Her love of driving.

Trips to the Base.

Her gourmet goulash.  The cooking channel is still asking for the recipe. Tomato soup, browned beef and macaroni elbows.

Her love of gran crackers and steadfast denial of her addiction.  I always told her I’d be her sponsor.

Sleepovers at her house with my sister and her bed slats breaking.  And her belly laughter and teeth falling out.

Her Irish pride.  I would go to her house to pick her up for a breakfast date and the house would be shaking.  The Irish Hour was on.

Death is so final and the thought that Gram isn’t here anymore is overwhelming.  It is so hard to believe that I won’t walk into her room and hear her ask “Got any candy?”  Love however, isn’t final.  Our love for Gram will live on.  I think of how hard it is for all of us that she’s no longer here and wonder how we’ll survive. Then I think, Phyllis would survive this and I know that she instilled some of that strength in all of us so that we can make it. She had such a devout faith and it’s her faith that helps me know I will see her again.  I think that when my time is about to come she will be waiting in heaven with a gran cracker in hand watching a Red Sox game.  She will say, “It’s time to come home honey bunch.”

I’m very sad that Gram never made it to Ireland, the home of her favorite patron saint.  I think I speak for the family, when I say it brings us all great comfort that she held on for thirteen days and passed on St. Patrick’s Day.  We like to think Tom was in a Cadillac, a car Gram always wanted with a full tank of gas waiting to embark on their new adventure together.

 

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields and,
Until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

I love you Gram.  Bye now.

"I'll hold."

Phyllis rarely calls me, so when she does, no matter what I am doing, I am sure to answer.  She is one of the rare few that has this privilege.  I call everyone back, but if I am in the middle of an episode of Pretty Little Liars, sorry.  A few weekends ago, I was sunning/reading on the roof and saw that Gram was calling me.  I picked up and yelled, "HI GRAM!"  Instead of the squeaky scream I expected to hear, a young voice replied, "Hi. This is Katie, your grandmother wants to talk to you."  Gram got on the phone and screamed, "HI ROBERT! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"  I informed Gram that it was not Robert and that she had called Meredith.  "I'VE BEEN TRYIN' TO GET A HOLD OF YA, I'M SO HAPPY I FINALLY DID."  I said, "THIS ISN'T ROBERT."  Gram replied, "I'LL HOLD."  Now, I was my brother's secretary. I finally started to pretend that I was Robert without bothering to change my voice.  She seemed pleased to be talking to him.  Until she said, "THIS ISN'T ROBERT!"  Perceptive.  Katie finally took the phone back and explained that she thought she wanted to talk to me.  I'll meet Katie this weekend while visiting Gram I hope.  She's practically my best friend.  We've talked on the phone twice.

In other news.  I don't have too much else to post.  Summer is flying by.  Oh!  I ran my first 5K.  My goal was to not stop the entire time.  I am a sprinter and not a fan of running long distances.  I just Googled my Harpoon 5-Miler results from 2009.  I did better than I remembered.  1903 out of 1943. I thought it was 1106 out of 1110 (?).  I beat a 66 and a 71-year-old.  Suckas.  Anyway.  My goal was to not suck as much as the last race I participated in.  And,  I succeeded.  I didn't stop to walk/rest, my time was 26:56 and I came in 260 out of 545 peeps.  The bf came in 99th place.  I think someone gave him a ride.

Lastly, eyebrow progress is slow.  There are some hairs growing, but I still have to draw that shit on daily.  On weekends I care more about how it looks.  I take my time and make sure the eyebrows match.  During the week, I likely look like Amber from Teen Mom.

Aren't they the cutest? I read an article recently that Gary (that HOT piece of love above) spent $5,000 at a strip club.  Those poor working women.

That's about it.   I'll say "HELLO" to Phyllis for everyone this weekend.  Hopefully she doesn't think I am Robert.

Kath has a Kindle

It has been a busy bitch of a summer.  Sorry to my 11 readers.  I will have to get Gram a computer so she can post some blogs of her own.  Wouldn't that be somethin'?  I just chatted with her for a few.  I mostly screamed to her that I would be home in a few weeks.  During this conversation, she handed the phone off to Katie, a physical therapist in training and told Katie that I wanted to speak with her.  I did not.  She sounded like a nice girl. When Phyllis finally took the phone back, I said, "I MISS YOU!"  She replied, "I LOVE YOU TOO HONEY BUNCH.  BYE NOW."  It reminded me of just a few years back when she frequently hung up on me.  I miss that.

The sibs and I purchased a Kindle for Kath for her birthday.  A lot of times when I call Kath and say "Whatcha doin?"  She replies, "Reading."  Now, when she tells me she's reading, I ask, "A real book or Kindle?"  So far, her answers have not pleased me.  "A book.  Honey, I don't know how to use the Kindle!"  I told her to look at the instructions and she informed me that she needs a one on one instructional.  That will be Fun for my sister.  My sister and I share a lot of books on the Kindle.  By share I mean she takes all of mine.  I wish we had Kindles when we were little Lang's.  Ours would have been full of The Baby-Sitters Club and Sweet Valley High.  I used to have long internal debates about which babysitter I wanted to be.  Final decision was usually Dawn Schafer even though she had blonde hair. She was an environmentalist and didn't like guns. I could relate. It would have been Stacey McGill, but she had diabetes and I never was a fan of needles. Claudia Kishi was a close second because she ate tons of junk food and I liked her style.

Anyway, like I mentioned, I have been a busy b.  The bf and I biked 40 miles a few Sundays ago.  In one day.  I'm still tired.  I didn't fall once.  Last week we were in Colorado for a conference and his birthday. (Happy birthday! And happy birthday to my brother!)  When I told Gram we were going to Colorado she said, "YOU'RE GOING TO CALL WHO?"  It took a while to get that across.  During the trip I went whitewater rafting for the first time.  I was initially nervous about falling out, but calmed down once we went through the first rapid and managed to stay in the raft pretty easily.  At one point our guide MacGyver told us to smile for the camera.  Someone listened.

Out of the eight or so photos they took, the bf is beaming in about seven of them.  I think it would make for a great billboard.

In other news, I told CF that I will give Murder She Wrote a shot.  She has dozens saved on her DVR and we are going to watch a select few and drink some wine.  I am really looking forward to this.  I love, love, love drinking wine and watching reality TV with CF.   I told her I would call her tonight after I finish watching The Real Housewives of NYC Reunion Special (Part 1) and then Watch What Happens Live.  Neil Patrick Harris was the guest.  If you haven't seen WWHL, the host, Andy Cohen, gets wasted while interviewing his celebrity friends.  Talk about dream job.  Anyway.  I am looking forward to getting drunk on Angela Lansbury with CF.  We make our mothers proud.

Oh. Before I sign off and watch some trashy fun.  Someone thinks my eyebrow is growing back.  I don't, but the bf is convinced. He swears he sees hairs growing, I just don't want to get my hopes up.  I am sick of the daily drawing on my face.  I was never one for art. Fingers crossed.

"Alopecia areata!"

I wonder what this post will be about.

Kath emailed me last week after reading one of my blog posts.  Subject was, "sunday-jus​t wondering about the missing half of your eyebrow".  It's good that she puts the day of the week in the subject line.

>Anyways, just reading your blog-yes, I laughed.  Loved the doll w/bangs-does resemble you a little.--maybe, more than a little.<

Isn't it wonderful that my Mother agreed that I looked like a creepy male doll?  Though, I guess it's better than what the bf compared me to this past weekend.  We were enjoying drinks in the sun and blotches started to form on my neck.  I asked, "Did I get blotchy on our first date?"  He said, "You think?  You looked like the Terminator." 

I don't know who is luckier.  Me, with such a fresh bf or, him with a blotchy, browless gf.

Now, I will move on to what everyone really wants to know. Yesterday was the BIG day.  My dermatologist appointment.  Dr. Burns entered the room and asked what I was there for.  I contemplated saying, "Guess!" to see if he could figure it out.  Instead, I pointed to my balding brow.  He rubbed his chin and stared at me. He then went through a series of questions:

"I see that you fell last year."

"Yes!" I said. "But that was St. Patrick's Day 2010."

"I see. Are you losing hair anywhere else?"

"No."

"Scalp, underarm, leg, all normal?"

"Yes."

I didn't tell him that I am a hairless wonder.  He would worry.

He asked if I had thyroid issues.  I told him I didn't, but peeps in my family have.  I also told him that my aunt lost her eyebrow once.  He asked if it grew back.  "I think so?" I replied.  He then used some microscopic tool with a light and dictated his findings to the nurse.  So scientific. "No hair outer part of eyebrow.  Hold on. I shouldn't say no hair.  There are a few.  Type sparse!"  He told me to pull my ponytail out and went through my scalp with his hands.  "You've got a lot of hair!" he said.  "On my head anyway." I replied.

When he was done looking, he told me he had a pretty firm diagnosis, but still wanted to test my thyroid.  "Alopecia areata!"  Dr. B. exclaimed.  I don't know why he was so excited.  After he said the words, I couldn't help but smirk.  I could tell he wanted to know why I had a smile on my face.  I said, "My boyfriend actually diagnosed me a month ago.  I'm not very happy that he's right."  The bf sent me a text last month telling me to look it up.  After I did, I told him I was going to be sick.  Don't Google image "alopecia areata".  You'll worry about a bitch.  Anyway.  Dr. B. said my eyebrow should grow back and to put cortisone cream on it.  Then he looked at me and said, "Questions."  I looked at him and waited for another interrogation.  He looked back.  It was then that I realized he said, "Questions?"  I didn't have any at the time.  Now I have a million.  My internet research after the fact made me tear up so I stopped looking and am just going to hope for the best.

Enough about that. 

As some of you may know, this is my fave time of the year.  The Lang Family Reunion.  The bf and I are headed to my sista's today to help prepare for the weekend.  CF is coming today as well.  She called me last night and asked what I was doing. "Watching Ghosts of Girlfriend's Past". I said. "Oh." she replied. CF was judging me.  I hope she enjoyed her Angela Lansbury fix last night. 

That's all for now.  Enjoy the long weekend bitches.  Maybe I will have an eyebrow by Tuesday.

Highway to Heaven

Before I start, I don't have anything specific to say. I am going to just ramble and see where this goes. Lucky you.

Here is Kath's mother's day card.  

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

On the inside it said, "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY. FROM ME AND MY SISTER." 

Kath loved.  Speaking of Kath.  She doesn't email me as much.  I think she has gotten over the novelty of it. This old email made me laugh.

>okay, no one won powerball, 184 M-now why did the size of this font get smaller-i did nothing. guess what i am watching on tv-give up-highway to heaven-lent is coming up- wonder if i am going to give up dramas - thinking about diet soda.<


Every time I call, she is watching that damn program.  Kath is always quick to say, "Must you call me when I am watching the last five minutes of my show?"  I hope she's not waiting for new episodes.  It ended in 1989.  Here's a brief Highway to Heaven synopsis courtesy of Wikipedia.

"The series stars Michael Landon as Jonathan Smith, an angel sent down to earth "on probation", and his human companion Mark Gordon, played by Victor French. Jonathan and Mark are given "assignments" by "The Boss" (God) where they are required to use their humanity (and sometimes a little bit of "The Stuff") in order to help various troubled souls to overcome their problems."  

It sounds worse than Murder, She Wrote.  Kath and CF are co-founders of the Angela Lansbury fan club. They're obsessed with that show.  In 2011.  Sista and I used to stay home alone in the summer and watch trashy talk shows.  She was 12, I was eight.  The Jerry Springer Show, Maury,  The Sally Jesse Raphael Show (personal fave).  I didn't like Jerry so much, but whoever made it to the clicker first ruled the TV for the day.  I was out of luck if I spent two hours arranging the stuffed animals on my bed. (I had 186. Barbie dolls included.  And they were placed in the same spot daily.) We hated when Kath stayed home sick and were forced to endure her shows.  In the Heat of the Night, Perry Mason, and of course, Murder, She Wrote.  We didn't mind when at 3:00 Guiding Light came on.  Kath made sure to get us hooked on that show as infants.  It was the crystal meth of soap operas.  We both finally stopped watching in our late teens.

Speaking of stuffed animals. Kath recently asked if I wanted any of my old ones.  I am sure the bf would love, love, love if I had 200 stuffed animals on my bed. He often tells me how much he loves my decorative throw pillows.



I told Kath, "No. I have Herbie!" Herbie was the only stuffed animal that I slept with. Grace and Herbie gave him to me when I was five. What a creative name. He is a white teddy bear and required frequent washings. Every time Bill Lang put him through the spin cycle I told myself, "It's just a bath." Poor guy is buried in the back of my closet right now. He could use a bath. I'll let my dad know.

In other news. I have a date with CF tomorrow night. When she was sick she told me she needed a throat transplant. I called her dramatic, but I would have said the same. I couldn't hear music playing in my left ear this morning and assumed I lost all hearing in that ear. I need new headphones. Last week, I couldn't find my phone. I was convinced I had put it in the washing machine along with my laundry. In my head, I was already planning on when I would go to Verizon for a new one. Good thing I checked my purse. Back to date night. Today I told CF that I was excited for her to see my eyebrow (or, lack thereof) and she asked if I was looking for attention. I learn from the best.

That's all I've got bitches. My DVR awaits and I have a lot of Real Housewives to catch up on. And, I have to call Kath. Until next time