"GRAN CRACKER HOUSE"

I headed home to see Phyllis last Friday afternoon.  I left work earlier than normal as the 1:30 Peter Pan bus includes a layover.  Anyway.  My visit was a surprise  When I told a friend I was planning to surprise her, he said, "What's the surprise?"  My visit, dumbass.  He proceeded to imply that this was a lame surprise.  I said, "I'll bring some treats."  He said, "BRING HER A GRAN CRACKER HOUSE!"  That was a wonderful idea, but I had no time to perform such a task.  He also added, "Make an extra house to play Godzilla with. Walk around your apartment roaring and then step on it."  Maybe next time.

If you can remember, Gram hadn't been feeling well the last time I visited.  I wasn't sure what to expect.  Kath picked me up at the bus station. When we arrived at rehab, Gram was asking a nurse when the next movie and popcorn night was.  Phyllis asking about food was a good sign.  When she saw me, her face lit up.  "Hi, honey bunch!"  she said.  Another good sign.  She told me I looked wonderful.  I returned the compliment.  Gram's cousin Marcia was also visiting so it was a small reunion.  Kath and Marcia caught up while Gram and I chatted.  Gram told me she'd lost some weight.  A moment later she offered me half of a chocolate chip cookie that she had in her lap.  I declined.  I said, "Any new boyfriends?"  She said, "Not like you!"  After a bit of teasing, a small woman in all pink walked by.  Gram rolled her eyes and told me she hated the woman.  "Christ sakes, she drives me nuts! Always following people.  She's horse manure."  Gram behaved though when the woman blessed us in French. 

My mom had a few pictures to show Gram.  There was one of my nieces and nephews.  Gram looked and remarked that Nicholas was thinner than Anthony.  I told her Nicholas was taller and that was why he appeared thinner.  "Well, Anthony's got a belly."  Marcia and I both said, "He's two!" Gram's eye's widened and she said, "HE'S GOT TWO BELLIES?"  Who knew babies were supposed to sport six-packs?

Needless to say, I was thrilled to see Gram as her fiesty, fresh self again.  She even called me last night for the first time in months.  To see if I "still" had a boyfriend.  I am not sure whether to be flattered or offended at her concern.

After visiting with Gram, I did a bit of drinking while filming a special video for the Bridezilla and her groom.  I can't say much as my oh so creative Jewish friend would kill me, but it's going to be fantastic. The following morning, Kath, Meaghan and I were off to Boston to join my CF and celebrate Kath's 60th birthday.  I always get mom gift cards and wanted to do something different.  I found her a special birthday card to write inside and let her know what the plan was:

Kath laughed so hard, she cried.

On the drive east, I was playing with my phone.  Mom asked who I was texting.  I twirled my hair and said, "I am sexting."  She laughed.  At one point I asked if my dad was trying to get laid when Kath mentioned he ironed and vacuumed all in one day.  The rest of the ride was uneventful.  When we arrived in Boston, my CF joined us for lunch and manicures and pedicures.  I don't usually get bold colors on my nails.  I am a natural girl.  Karen always goes bright with nail polish names like, "Flirty Margarita".  I showed her my nude nail color and she asked if I wanted to be like Katie Holmes since she is so boring.  I think my CF is just jealous of my perfect nail beds.

After the manis and pedis, we ended the birthday celebration with dessert at Stephanie's.  We each ordered a dessert and passed them across and around the table multiple times.  When I remarked that the waitstaff was laughing at us, Karen said, "They should see us at Applebee's."  I was hoping Kath would do some birthday shots.  She had two glasses of wine.  Next year.

To end, I would like to say happy, happy birthday to my mom.  Kathy, you're my hero, too.

Mushroom Meredith

Gram is doing a bit better.  I suppose.  I saw her before I ventured off to the Cape for the Fourth.  She was happy to see me and I was able to make her laugh a bit.  I wheeled her to see Henrietta and Edna, my two fave biddies (other than Gram, of course).  Edna was wearing a lovely bracelet and I told her so.  She said, "Oh, thank you!  Do you know who gave this to me?"  Henrietta jumped in and said, "Edna, do you remember who gave that to you?  It was me!"  Edna smiled at me and said, "Henrietta gave it to me."  I asked if they had always been friends.  "We became friends on the inside."  Henrietta told me.  I told them that if they had met on the outside, they would have been great friends.  They smiled.  I hope to see them soon.

After the visit with Gram, I was off to Meggie's to help prepare for our weekend at the Cape.  My job was to clean the fruits and vegetables, make sandwiches and keep the Bridezilla cool.  I was chatting on the phone with Michelle when it came time to clean the mushrooms.  I put them in a bowl with water.  I said to Michelle, "I feel like I am cleaning a bunch of penis heads."  Meggie overheard this and rolled her eyes. The next morning over Bloody Mary's and a Cape Codder, the little Bridezilla told Vinnie what I had said about the mushrooms.  He said, "I am surprised you even knew what to do."  We laughed.  A few moments later he said, "That's why I saw you with your head in the sink!"  For the remainder of the weekend I was the butt of all mushroom jokes. Just call me Mushroom Meredith. 

My friends are perverts.

Morning walks with my F have continued.  My gym probably has my face on milk cartons. 

The FUPA continues to disappear.  I am pleased. My F has been walking the city for a few years now and has made friends along her route.  One is Jerry Powers, 73.  He is an adorable Scottish man who loves his wife.  She's from Italy.  He walks or rides his bicycle every day.  He swims too.  Initially, I think he was threatened by Michelle's new walking partner (me), but he has warmed up now that he realizes I have no intention of replacing him.  This morning after walking us across the bridge, we said our goodbyes. He looked at me and said, "Cheers!" Michelle made a deal with him that he could walk with her as long as he doesn't slow her down.  He slows her down.  But, she acts as though he doesn't.  Just one of many reasons why she's my F. 

To date, we haven't incorporated jogging into our daily walks. I think it would interfere with our sassy conversations. However, I did go for a solo walk/jog on Sunday or a "wog" as I like to call it.  I need to talk to my CF about the 5K she wants to run.  We will have to put down our glasses of wine and start wogging.  Baby steps. 

You'll never believe what I did yesterday.  I cooked.  Swear.   I offered to cook for a certain boy since he has cooked for me twice and he has been requesting that I make something.  It would be rude to say, "Noo." He seems to think I am a gourmet chef and just don't know it.  (This could be true.  I can make my Nana's coq au vin just like Bill Lang.) I decided on pizza.  I have never made pizza by myself.  Growing up, my parents would make my sister and I cook dinner on Wednesday nights.  We made pizza a few times.  Kath and Bill thought I enjoyed making pizza so much that they bought me a pizza maker for my 13th birthday.  I thanked them, went up to my room and proceeded to cry.  I so badly wanted a signet ring.  Tacky, but Meaghan had one and I coveted that bling.  Back to yesterday, I made sure to preheat the oven to 425 degrees.  I also made sure to incorporate protein into our meal since it is vital for muscle recovery.  So I have heard.  I sautéed chicken, rolled the dough the best I could and cut up some peppers and onions.  No mushrooms.  I even put some ricotta on my little masterpiece. 

Fancy, right?  Well.  When I went to put the pizza in the oven, the bitch wasn't even lukewarm.  I suppose I would have known this if I cooked on the regular.  However, my roommates have used the oven and it has worked for them.  I was planning to make turkey sandwiches instead.  My mom can make a mean sandwich.  So can I.  However, when my dinner companion arrived, he suggested we put the pizza in the toaster oven.  It worked! Maybe it would have tasted better from an actual oven, but then I wouldn't have had this story to tell. 

Next meal, hot ham water.

Hasta la proxima, bitches.

MM

Good morning, Boston.

This will be a quick post. So people don't think I am dead. I wouldn't want to worry everyone.

I haven't been to the gym in over a week. Before you bitches say, "I knew she'd fall off the wagon eventually," check yourself. Instead of the gym, I have been so fortunate to walk every day with my F, Michelle. She used to be my GF, but at some point last year the in-thing was to get engaged, so now she's my Fiancée. Or, would it be Fiancé? Anyway. We used to walk every day when we both lived on the other side of the state. My ass had never been better. I am looking forward to getting it back. I did a bit of jogging last week, but my sports asthma inhibits just how much I can jog. Next week, Michelle and I plan to incorporate jogging into our daily workout. I will keep you posted on our progress.  We walk along the Charles River and every morning the WBZ news crew is there capturing a morning shot.  Yesterday we walked right in front of the camera.  I wasn't pleased since it wasn't my best angle.  Today, we were relieved because we thought the camera was not pointed our way.  After I made the gesture of covering my nip out and Michelle grabbed one of her boobs, we realized the camera was as close as it could get.  Good morning, Boston.

Before my wedding weekend at the Cape, I will head home this afternoon to see Gram. She's not doing so hot and I just know a visit from me will cheer her up. When Kath told her I would be visiting, her face lit up. She's my best friend and I can't wait to see her. I will need to bring some sort of treat. I am also quite excited to see my kids. They miss me.  As I reread this paragraph, I realize how modest I sound. 

I hope everyone has a fabulous Fourth of July. I also hope my publicist Angela has that baby of hers. (Lady-eat some salsa con queso.)  Baby Paul is going to marry my Little Bean. I just know it. I need to start working on the dowry.

Like I said, this is a quick post.  I have a date to catch before boarding the Peter Pan.  Ooh.  And, it's not with my Netflix account.  I broke up with Netflix.  For the summer anyway.  I will leave you bitches hanging on that tidbit.  Until next time.