THIS IS GRAM.

I just made myself a chef salad for dinner.  And by chef salad, I mean prepackaged lettuce, shredded cheese and a slice of deli ham.  Last week I attempted to cook a piece of chicken.  One piece.  The smoke detector went off immediately and I almost died from smoke inhalation.  I ended up having to microwave a half cooked piece of chicken. I was surprised when it worked.  I wish I could have had chicken with my salad tonight, but I didn't want to die.

In Phyllis related news, Gram called me last night!  I think it is because I put my letter on her fridge.  Now, my phone number is in plain view.  Of course, I stupidly left my cell phone at work and missed the call.  The message was great though.



I love, "THIS IS GRAM."  I have many 85-year-old women calling me so I am glad she made that clear.  I called her back tonight.  "I called you last night Honey Bunch, but I didn't get through."  We talked for a few minutes.  She asked how my job was.  Twice.  I told her I had a date tomorrow.  She didn't seem too impressed.  She finally asked who, and I fessed up and told her I was actually meeting my Jewish mom's daughter for lunch.  Ilene thinks we have identical personalities so she "set us up" so to speak. I need to figure out what to wear.  My friend Seth advised "nothing Palestinian".  I agree.  Gram thought it was nice that I might make a new friend.  However, she quickly bored of the topic and asked if I had talked to my mother.  I told her I hadn't just as Kath was beeping in.  "You better call her.  She says she never hears from you anymore."  I told her I would and was able to catch my mom on the other line. "Your mother just told me I had to call you." I said.  "I was calling you to tell you to call my mother." she said.  Gram had spoken to my mother earlier today.  "SHE'S ALWAYS TELLIN' ME TO CALL HER.  Then I do and she doesn't pick up!" she yelled.  She will probably never call me again.

Here's Gram speaking in her French accent: