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

Where'd you get that giant?

I still have not found my eyebrow.  I've been penciling it in daily.  It is a task I dread.  Yesterday I had to draw it on in the gym bathroom in front of another person.  That was a blast. The bastard shows no signs of growing  back. I sometimes just part my hair all the way over to the right to try and hide it.  I wish I looked good with bangs.  I have photos of myself at the age of four with a bowl cut and bangs. I looked like the My Buddy doll.

I suppose it is better than looking like Webbie Debbie.

I finally called the dermatologist last week.  I kept getting transferred and had to tell three people the following, "Half of my eyebrow fell out.  It isn't growing back." Two of them asked me to repeat myself.  I go May 26th.  I learned that my aunt lost her entire eyebrow once.  It eventually grew back.  Now I am paranoid that the left one is thinning.  I look at old photos of myself with two full eyebrows and wish I hadn't taken them for granted.  I was at a restaurant recently and the waitress had gorgeous eyebrows.  I almost told her, but thought that might come off as creepy as I sat there with my Sharpie eyebrows.

Enough about that. 

I went home on Good Friday to see Gram.  As you all know, I don't have a car. Normally this isn't a problem, but sista, aka my driver, went to Italy. I asked Bichard if he could pick me up at the bus station that Friday afternoon and then take me to Gram's.  He said he would, even though he threatened to not show up.  I have been an ass enough times in our friendship to believe him since I would have deserved it.  Luckily, Phyllis was part of the equation so I was 70 percent sure he wouldn't leave me stranded.  He showed up. He has heard every Gram story and is one of many who has always wanted to meet Phyll.  We pulled into the parking lot and Richard said, "I don't know if I can do this.  I'm kind of nervous."  I said, "It's like meeting Gandhi." 

It was lunchtime when we walked in and Phyllis was eating with her pals Roberta and Henrietta.  Gram's other friend Phyllis (!) sat nearby.  I introduced Gram and the gals to my 6'5'' tall Egyptian friend.  She was so grateful that he drove me to visit her and told him so.  I said to Gram, "HE'S EGYPTIAN."  She said, "HE'S A GYPSY?"  After repeating myself several times, she finally understood.  "WERE YOU RAISED IN EGYPT?" she asked him.  He explained that he grew up in Wilbraham, Massachusetts, but that his dad grew up in Egypt.    I asked Henrietta if there were any activities planned for the day.  She told me they were dying eggs at 2:00.  Gram heard this, rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, great."  Richard was in stitches and told me my impressions of her were spot on.  He also told me he is going to visit her on his own.  He should.  They're both single. 

When she finished eating lunch, Gram said, "RICHARD, DO YOU WANT TO SEE MY ROOM?"  He said sure and began wheeling her out of the dining room.  As we left, Roberta beamed at us and said, "Merry Christmas!"  She is the cutest lady and turns 100 on October 23rd.  Gram told me so.  I am glad she knows her birthday. Anyway.  Gram doesn't have a roommate currently and she showed off her room and all the space she now has.  We chatted for a few, then it was time for Richard to go. Gram ordered me to give him more candy to "hold him over".  I obliged.  Richard and Phyllis said their goodbyes and after he left Gram told me he was a "very nice person."  She is 87 and does not always know what she is talking about.

After my tall friend left, Gram told me to take a nap.  This is something she says when she wants to take a nap herself.  She fell asleep in her chair and I sprawled out on her bed.  We dozed for 15 minutes.  When we awoke, we went out into the hallway and a neighbor of Gram's, an older gentleman, was milling about. Gram saw him and rolled her eyes.  He talks incessantly and doesn't make any sense.  This drives Phyllis crazy.  He passed us and said to Gram, "Are you my mother?"  Gram looked at me and said, "HE'S A PAIN IN MY ASS!"  After this, we ended up going to the activity room and dyed some eggs.  Phyllis enjoyed.  I did as well.  Kath came shortly after to pick me up and I told Gram I would be back the next morning.

Kath and I returned the following morning to visit with Phyll before I went back to Boston.  We sat with Gram in the front lobby and her friend Phyllis was sitting there as well.  Friend Phyllis told me I looked different than the prior day.  I asked if that was a good or bad thing.  She said, "Good!  But you didn't look bad yesterday!" she said.  I probably did a better job drawing my eyebrow that morning. Friend Phyllis then asked, "Where's your friend from yesterday?"  I told her he was at home.  She nodded and replied, "Where'd you get that giant?" This made Kath and I laugh. Friend Phyllis smiled.  I like her.

I will be seeing Phyllis this weekend and again Memorial Day weekend.  I am going to have the bf come with me for a lunchtime visit with Phyll over Memorial Day because I think he will get a kick out of it.  Speaking of.  Memorial Day weekend is just a few weeks away.  CF and I talked on the phone for almost three hours last night.  She filled me in on her recent cold and said, "Oh. I have a cough injury."  She told me she has been using hot pads to alleviate the pain.  When she was in 7-11 buying a water she realized that all of her hot pads had fallen to the ground.  CF looked at them scattered on the floor. And ran out.  I wish I had been there.  I forgot to tell her about my missing eyebrow.  I wish I had because she'll know what to do. 

That's all for now bitches.  Be extra nice to the Kath's in your life on Sunday.

Where did my eyebrow go?

Half of my right eyebrow is missing.  I don't know where it went.  It looks like I Nair'd it off.  Maybe not half, but a large enough portion to have multiple people notice.  A third of it is gone, maybe?

About a month ago I was applying my eyeshadow and I noticed that the outer half of my right eyebrow looked much thinner.  I thought, "Guess it's always been like that," and proceeded to put on my mascara. That is unlike me. When it comes to matters involving my face (and any changes to it), I tend to freak out.  Maybe I had been drinking?  I don't know.  A few weeks later, the bf was ogling me.  Ooh. I said, "What?"  He said, "Huh.  I've never noticed that your eyebrows are so different."  Again, I didn't think much of it.  Fast forward to this past weekend.  The fam was having dinner at my sista's.  Kath was sitting across from me.  I could not help but notice that every time I looked at Kath, she couldn't look me in the eye.  She would try, but her eyes would immediately move to the right side of my face.  "Is there a problem?"  I asked.  "No." she replied.  "Then why are you staring at the right side of my face?" I asked. "Honey, it's just.  What happened to your eyebrow?" 

This is when I started to panic.  I told Kath how I did notice something different about it. The worst part is the hair shows no intention of growing back.  In the past, friends have referred to me as the hairless wonder because you can't see my arm hair, my leg hair is barely there and I only had to start shaving under my arms in my 20's.   I always considered this a blessing.  However, I want two eyebrows.  "Why don't you Google it?"  Kath said.  "What would I type!  'Where did my eyebrow go'?"  I yelled as I ran to the computer.  I did in fact type 'where did my eyebrow go?'  The first result was meanspirited and did not help. Other results indicate I should see a doctor.

Kath told me I needed to make a doctor's appointment right away.   I haven't yet.  I hate needles.  And, I feel ridiculous.  Last year I went in there with a black eye that I had no clue of its origin.  (Remember Ass Face and that bump?) "How did you get a black eye?" Dr. G asked.  "I fell."  "Where did you fall?" she asked.  "Going up the stairs to my apartment."  I lied.  The only reason I am typing this now is because I finally confessed to Kath what happened.  We chatted on St. Patrick's Day and she asked if I was going out.  "Hell no!  Not after last year."  I said.  "Why? What happened last year?"  she asked.  I said, "You can't get mad because it happened a year ago and I am ok." I asked if she remembered that appointment I had to make with the plastic surgeon (Lin, Lang Chang) because of the fall I took last year.  She did.  "Well, mom.  Last St. Patrick's Day I drank too much.  I woke up at 3 in the morning to pee and when I looked in the mirror my face was all bloody and I had a black eye."  I told her.  She calmly asked, "How did you get a black eye?"  "I have no idea." I replied.  Kath laughed.  "You don't know!" she giggled. This was not the reaction I was expecting.  I know if I told her when it had actually happened she would have put me in rehab. 

It is probably a good thing I didn't go through with the plastic surgery. I would look like this hot mess:

(My eyebrow isn't that bad.)

Anyway.  I will make an appointment.  I want to wait a minute to see if it grows back in.  I had to purchase some Clinique brow filler yesterday.  The bf asked if the filler was to "paint them on".  Great. I asked my roommate this morning how my fake eyebrow looked this morning.  "You can't even tell!" she said.  I'll ask my Jewish mothers at dinner tomorrow. Ilene and Donna tell it like it is.

In other news.  I saw Gram this past weekend.  I arrived solo and the first words out of her mouth were, "WHERE'S JP?"  I told her he was in Utah.  She just nodded. If he arrived solo, I do believe she would not inquire of my whereabouts.  Anyway. It was BINGO time, so we went down to play.  Gram has a new roommate.  Mary. Gram does not like Mary.  I did not either.  Mary and I started off on the wrong foot when she took Gram's seat at BINGO, which meant that I didn't get to catch up with Henrietta and Roberta.  When the nurse asked where I lived and I told her Boston, Mary looked over at me from across the room and sneered, "Boston."  I rolled my eyes.  Just like Phyllis.  Phyllis then began to talk smack about Mary to Raveen, my new friend.  "Isn't she just somethin'!" Gram yelled.  "She's always around, back and forth."  Raveen replied. "She's a WINNER. I tell ya." Gram said.  Maybe Phyllis is following Charlie Sheen's twisted tweets.  I kept noticing Mary looking my way.  Thinking back, she was probably wondering where my eyebrow was, too.  Later on, Kath asked me what I thought of Gram's new roommate.  I made a face.  "Malignantbraintumor." Kath said.  I immediately felt guilty. Poor Mary.  Kath did not like her at first either, then she heard the sad news.  I think I should let Gram know so she doesn't engage in another walker war.

During the BINGO game, Gram said, "WHAT'S JP DOING IN HOUSTON?" I said, "He's in Utah.  TO BECOME A POLYGAMIST."  Of course, Gram could not hear me, so I had to repeat myself two more times.  When she did hear me, her eyes opened wide, then she started to laugh.  The nurse laughed too.  I wish I could go to BINGO every week. 

Speaking of polygamy.  I went to my nephews girlfriend's 4th birthday party while home.  Sofia is going to marry both of my nephews.  The girl is too cute for words.  Instead of sister wives, she will have brother husbands.  I hope this is ok with her mother, Angela. One of the reasons I attended this party was because I was so looking forward to meeting Paula, Sofia's grandmother.  When Angela told me she wasn't going to be there, my heart sank.  From what I have heard, Paula is just like Kath.  In fact, when Kath and Paula met, they hit it off.  I told Angela they should exchange email addresses.

This is too long, sorry bitches.  I have more to share, but it can wait.  I'll keep you posted on my eyebrow and it's whereabouts.  Let an Ass Face know if you find it.

"I don't know her."

Kath has discovered email.  Well, she's known about it for a bit and I suppose uses it once in a while to send chain emails to her work pals, but she discovered that she can email Me.  I was not in the mood for chatting on the phone last night.  I knew I should call Kath to check in, but I was just tired and wanted to read my Kindle by book light.  I have made a habit of this.  I will get ready for bed at 7:45, shut my lights off and read my Kindle.  A few times I have woken up around 9:30 p.m. with the Kindle open next to me.  It's better than waking up with an empty bottle of wine on my chest at 4 a.m. circa 2008.  I couldn't fall asleep last night because I napped for a few hours during the day due to drinking a bottle of wine at lunch with CF.  We know how to celebrate President's Day in our family.  I checked my email around 10:00 and saw one from Kath (!).  Below is an excerpt:

>nothing much new-except, i have a little fever ~ 105, i got mugged this morning going to work, and i have to have major surgery<

I dialed Kath immediately, swearing at myself for being a bratty daughter (yet again) and not calling my mother.  Kath cheerily answered, "Hello!"  I yelled, "YOU GOT MUGGED?" "Oh, honey.  That was a joke.  You couldn't tell? What did you think of that story about Annabella?"  I asked her how she would feel if she received an email from me telling her I was raped on the way to the gym.  She dismissed that and said, "Let me know what you think about Annabella once you read it." Like I got that far in the email.  We chatted for a few and I told her I would email her in the morning.  Here is an excerpt:

>Have a good day. Don't email me later telling me you got carjacked. I will take you seriously. You will be the Mom who cried WOOF.<

I added the "WOOF" part to the end because I received a phone call from Kath after my most recent blog post asking me how to pronounce wolf.  She could barely breathe she was laughing so hard.  I told her it was her fault as my mother that she didn't teach me how to pronounce basic words.  However, I don't know if it was her fault that I mixed up the words organism and orgasm in fifth grade science class.  I can't recall how it was that I realized my gaffe, but I remember being in class one day reviewing my notes.  This moment was so traumatic, I remember the outfit I had on.  My all purple sweatsuit that made me look like Grimace. I saw "orgasm" and "orgasms" written down, page after page.  I felt myself turn red. I started scribbling furiously correcting them all.  I should have just used the caret punctuation mark and wrote "ni".  Maybe I did.  It wouldn't have mattered except our teacher reviewed our notebooks. Sorry, Mr. Kawa.



While we're on the subject, I will share another traumatic memory from fifth grade.  I was such a nerd that I forced my parents to allow me to switch schools because I wasn't challenged enough.  Somehow, I got my way.  My uncle was the principal at my new school.  All of the students knew and this did not get me any friends.  I only sat with people at lunch because the cafeteria was so small and I was forced to sit with a group.  When we had lunch outside in the nicer weather, I ate by myself.  No need to feel bad. I had friends outside of school, I just hated the wretched children in my class. They were 10-year-old criminals, stealing pills from their parents and skipping school. I couldn't relate at the time. Anyway. It was the last week of school and I sat in the back row. It was also 90 degrees. I was daydreaming of summer when the door opened and in walked Phyllis and my two cousins with my uncle.  Gram was sweating profusely, her hair matted to her forehead because she didn't have air conditioning in her car. She was wearing a purple and blue ensemble that if I explained it to my sister, she would know what I was talking about. I could see their eyes scan the room looking for me.  I was spotted.  The three of them stood there, beaming and waving at me. I just stared at them and sunk into my chair.  Bianca, who sat in front of me said, "That your Nana?"  I said, "I don't know her."

I will ask Gram if she remembers that day next time I visit.  Not likely. 

In the time that I have written this post, Kath has emailed me back.  She shared an interaction she had with Phyllis today:

>Visited w/gram.  Not much conversation.  I told her powerball was 155 M and proceeded to tell her to give me a number -any number 1 -->  39.  She pondered for awhile-quite awhile and finally blurted out "40." I didn't say anything and after about a minute she turns to me and started laughing-she had just realized what she said-she's truly a trip.<

Speaking of Gram, we just had a four minute conversation. She was not wearing her hearing aids.  During our chat I told her that I was becoming a nun and that I have a tattoo of the Virgin Mary on my back.  "THANK YOU FOR THE LOVELY CARD" was her reply. I screamed for about two minutes when she said "Love ya Honey Bunch.  Bye now." 


Too bad Phyllis can't email me.  I would set up an account just for her emails: honeybunch@gmail.com. I wonder if that's taken. 

Dash Hounds and Sneaky cats

I called Gram last night.  I wanted to let her know to expect a letter from me.  I said this to her and she said, "HOW IS JP?" I think I annoyed her by talking when all she wanted was to get to the good stuff.  I imagined her sitting there wearing her 50 dolla shawl, rolling her eyes and impatiently waiting for her turn to talk.  Maybe I will give her his phone number.  That would be such fun for him. I bet my name wouldn't even come up. "JONATHAN, HOW ARE YOU? YOU DATIN' ANYONE SPECIAL?" She told me that Kath asked her if she'd heard from me lately.  I said, "I just talked to Ma yesterday. She knows I was planning to call you tonight. " She said, "Well.  You better write her too."  Fresh.  I told Gram I would be coming home in the next couple of weeks, I just haven't figured out a date.  She said she was "anxious" to see me.  I guess that is a good thing.  I miss her terribly.  And my kids.  Here's the latest letter:

"Monday February 7, 2011
 HI GRAM!

I AM SO SORRY THAT I DIDN’T WRITE YOU A LETTER AS PROMISED LAST WEEK. I AM A TERRIBLE GRANDDAUGHTER AND SHOULD BE BURNED AT THE STAKE. I HOPE YOU DON’T TAKE THAT SERIOUSLY. I AM AFRAID OF FIRE.

HOW ARE YOU? DID YOU WATCH THE SUPER BOWL? I AM GLAD THAT DREADFUL SPORT IS OVER FOR NOW. IT’S SO BORING! BIG MEN RUNNING AROUND CHASING AN ODDLY SHAPED BALL. AND THEN, EVERY TWO SECONDS, THEY BLOW THE WHISTLE. MEN!

BASEBALL SEASON STARTS SOON. I BET YOU’RE EXCITED. I DIDN’T CATCH TOO MUCH BASEBALL LAST YEAR. MAYBE I WILL THIS YEAR. IT IS VERY TIME CONSUMING AND I AM A BUSY GIRL.

I AM TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHEN I WILL BE HOME NEXT. IT WILL BE THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS. I WILL BRING YOU SOME TREATS. ANY SPECIAL REQUESTS? RUMOR HAS IT THAT YOU LIKE PEANUT BUTTER CUPS. I AM GOING DOWNHILL SKIING FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER THIS WEEKEND. I EXPECT TO FALL A LOT. JONATHAN BETTER WEAR A HELMET. IF HE WERE TO GET HURT, WE WOULD BOTH BE BOO HOOIN’.

WHAT ARE YOU GIVING UP FOR LENT? LAST YEAR I GAVE UP SALSA CON QUESO. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR ME? MAYBE I WILL GIVE UP SWEARING.

I JUST OVERDOSED ON BLUEBERRIES AND COULD REALLY USE A NAP. I WILL CALL YOU TONIGHT AND TELL YOU THAT YOU WILL BE RECEIVING A LETTER FROM ME SOON. I WOULD IMAGINE AS EARLY AS TOMORROW! WHAT A TREAT. I HOPE YOU’RE DOING WELL AND STAYING OUT OF TROUBLE. WE DON’T NEED ANOTHER WALKER WAR IN 2011.

I LOVE YOU TO REESE’S PIECES AND CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU.

LOVE,

MEREDITH ELIZABETH LANG"

I normally head home for Valentines Day and have a date with Gram.  However, I am going skiing this weekend.  For the first time eva.  I am excited, though a little sad I can't watch a V-Day Lifetime movie with Phyllis this year.  I wonder if Kath will give me a V-Day gift bag now that I have a bf.  Not likely if she's anything like her husband.  I was telling sista friend that this was the first year Bill hadn't given me an additional gift card for my birthday and Christmas.  She said, "I never get extra from him!"  I said, "That's what happens when you're the favorite child."  She replied, "More like that's what happens when you're single." Whatever helps her sleep at night. 

I talked to Kath on Sunday.  I told her I was at the bf's parents and that the dog and cat were sitting at my feet.  "What kind of cat?" I'm impressed she even asked because Kath is not fond of cats. I recently asked the reason behind this.  "They are just SO sneaky!" I think she watched too many Disney movies. Anyway. I said, "It's orange?" Then she asked its name. "Indy." "CINDY?" I corrected her. "What kind of dog is it?" she asked.  I said, "A hot dog." She replied, "Oh. A dash hound." A couple of weeks ago when I called, she told me she was watching a movie.  I asked which one and she said, "Something with Leonardo DiCaprico." So, this time, when she said "dash hound" I replied, "Did you hear they are making a movie about dash hounds with Leonardo DiCaprico?"  She called me a wise ass and tried for two minutes to pronounce dachshund without success. I thought a hearse was pronounced "hearst" for 26 years and for the longest time I pronounced wolf as "woof". The latter in that sentence is just embarrassing.  I blame Kath.

In other news, I am oh so looking forward to the end of winter.  Come spring, I am going to attempt to run a 5K for the second time.  Two summers ago I ran in one with my pal Sam and placed 1160 out of 1200. In my defense, I was hung over and had a FUPA.  I am back to feeling more athletic now.  I wasn't voted "Most Athletic" in the 8th grade without reason.  That and when doing box jumps at the gym last week, a woman applauded me.  I took off my headphones because I could see she was saying something and she said, "Are you a dancer?"  I just about died.  She went on to say that I was impressive to watch.  Please just know that I felt the need to publish this tidbit of information as I was relentlessly made fun of after my first 5K and I want those bitches to know how far I have come.  When I told Sam about the dancer comment, she replied, "She probably meant a stripper."  When we "trained" for our first 5K Sam told me I looked like a Tyrannosaurus Rex as I jogged along with my arms up high and close to my chest.

 
I am going to wear that shirt and chase her around. 

Until next time. 

Sneaky cats:

Even if it's of Jesus Christ?

I had a lovely visit home this past weekend.  The Peter Pan ride was actually quite enjoyable.  The driver was the most enthusiastic Peter Pan employee I have ever encountered.  Tony Delgado introduced himself to all of the passengers and went over the benefits of Wi Fi.  "If you've got a laptop, you can do all sorts of fun things!"  I slept most of the way.  I was a tad hung over from a night out with CF.  I mentioned the horoscope change to her and she said, "OHMYGOD! I forgot this is your birthday dinner!"  I reminded CF that we already had that a few weeks ago.  Next time I will keep my mouth shut. 

Sista asked me to make dinner Saturday night.  You read that right, bitches.  I was asked to cook.  Pasta-less lasagna.  Success.  Meaghan loved the dish and my bippity boppin' brother-in-law loved it as well.  Tony's mom is a fantastic cook (she's in my top five), so he's hard to please.  Much like the Lang girls who grew up with Bill's gourmet meals. I asked Tony to cut the eggplant because his knives are very sharp.  I asked Meaghan to take the ground turkey out of the packaging because the smell of ground turkey makes me want to upchuck.  I gladly layered the lasagna. We made a great team. 

Gram's extra hard of hearing these days so I wrote her a note in all capital letters last week telling her I would be home.  I was dropped off at rehab at about 10:15 Sunday morning.  I saw some nurses I recognized and they told me Gram was napping.  They formally introduced themselves.  De'Nette and Dorothy. I like them. I went down to Gram's room and tapped her shoulder. She opened her eyes and kind of smiled.  I walked over to the front of her bed so she could see me better.  "HI HONEY BUNCH! I DIDN'T RECOGNIZE YA!"  I was wearing glasses.  I see now how no one recognized that Clark Kent was Superman. Later Gram told me she thought I was her friend Claire.  Claire must be at least 70 and a member of AARP to be a friend of Gram's.  I was not flattered.

I pulled a bag of Oreos out of my bag and dangled them in front of Gram.  "WHERE'D YA GET THOSE? WASHINGTON?"  she asked. I said, "I got them at Meaghan's."  "I THOUGHT THEY WERE RUBBER GLOVES!" she said.  I also brought her some candy.  A few Andes mints and two mini peanut butter cups.  She managed to eat all of her treats during our visit.  De'Nette came to Gram's room and helped Gram into her wheelchair. I sat on Gram's bed. "This is my granddaughter!  She travels all over the United States!" Gram said. I went to Washington in October and NYC for a Christmas party last month.  I tried explaining this to Gram. She gave me a thumbs up sign. While in her room, I looked up at her bulletin board to see the latest photos that were up.

I counted myself in two photos.  Then, my eyes fell upon the above. I said, "Who the heck did that?"  Gram with her mouth full of Oreos and candy said, "WHAA?"  I said, "Who stabbed me in the head with the cross?"  "It's a palm!" Gram said. Like that made it OK.  "Your mother did that."  Kath came later to pick me up and when I confronted her she denied crucifying me.  Gram yelled, "Well, we know it's not me because I can't stand!"  I think it's the awful nurse that I gave serious attitude to on Thanksgiving.  I reserve my attitude for the worst of people. Scientologists and people that are not nice to Phyllis.  I believe in karma so I am not going to retaliate.

Anyway.  Back to Phyll. "Push me! I like to be pushed." she ordered.  (I can relate.  I loved being pushed in a shopping cart and something tells me I would enjoy it still.) I obliged and we went down to the room where Phyllis eats her meals.  "Are you still dating?" Gram asked.  I told her yes, I was and to stop worrying.  Maybe it is because I told her the bf was on vacation with his other girlfriend.  "He better not be!" she said.  I replied, "Men!" 

I pushed Gram back and forth between her room, the lobby and the lunch room. Every time we passed someone with a pulse, Gram said, "This is my granddaughter! She travels the country!"  At one point I asked Gram if I should get my nose pierced.  "No, don't do that."  "Belly button?"  She shook her head. Then I asked if I should get a tattoo.  She scrunched her nose.  "Even if it's of Jesus Christ?" I asked.  "I wouldn't do anything like that." she said. I will neva eva get a tattoo.  I am far too picky to like anything on my body for that long.  Kath would also go through the roof.  She called me a "miserable little wench" last week.  I cannot remember what provoked such a comment, but I assume tattoo backlash would be much worse.  I also won't dye my hair until required.  I only wish I felt that way in high school.

The visit with Phyllis was one of the best we have had in some time.  It was so great to see her in such good spirits.  Maybe she's got a bf of her own.  She denied this when I asked her, but she kept waving to the new guy. A granddaughter can hope. 

Until next time.
MLW

Not a Scorpio

I should have known that I would be called out for my lack of posts in the New Year.  I've been a busy bitch.  What else is new?  Here's a quick phyx.

How was everyone's holiday?  I had a wonderful Christmas. The boys are 3-years-old now, and they were oh so excited about Santa Claus coming down the chimney. I have been told that I believed in Santa until I was 15.  I think that's a lie, but Kath and Bill sheltered me a bit, so it could be true.  By sheltered I mean I had a "bed time" of 9:30 when I was a senior in high school.  Kath wouldn't let Meaghan and I eat mozzarella sticks until we were 16 because she was afraid we were going to choke on the cheese. "Small bites! You'll choke!"  she would yell.  I digress.  Back to Christmas.  I hope my nieces and nephews believe in Santa forever.  The bf gave me a Kindle.  For those of you who don't know, I am obsessed with reading and to have a gadget that allows me to read 24/7 is a dream come true.  I said to him, "Jonathan, now that I have this Kindle, I will be too busy to hang out with you."  He said, "Why do you think I got it?" Fresh. Anyway.  Book suggestions welcome.  For those curious, I gave the bf golf shoes. I had told CF of the shoes and she told me that it was a "great gift".  Well.  He liked the idea of the golf shoes, but not the actual style.  When CF asked me what he thought and I told her, she said, "Please tell him I thought they were a bad idea all along."

I don't know about any of you, but I am having a bit of an identity crisis.  Last night, I was on Facebook and saw a status about peeps Zodiac's signs changing.  I immediately called sista and said, "What Zodiac sign am I?"  Meaghan (took her time) and finally announced that I am now a Scorpio. I swore a little bit at the news.  I've been a Sagittarius for 27 plus years and I have always identified with my sign.  I think I am kind of funny - we're known for our sarcasm, and I rather enjoy my independence.  I read that Scorpio's are very emotional.  I have cried at "The Hills" before, but I don't think that counts.  It also said that Scorpio's make excellent doctors/surgeons.  I don't trust myself with a fork, never mind a scalpel. Though, I do like Grey's Anatomy. 

I am very excited for the weekend ahead.  I get to see my kids.  I miss them so much that I am at the point of stalking Meaghan's Facebook looking at pictures of them and tearing up a bit.  Last night I played three saved voicemails from the kids saying "Hi Titi.  I yuv you, Titi." This doesn't make me an emotional Scorpio, it just makes me a sap.  I also plan to have a nice long visit with Phyllis.  From what I hear she's in good spirits.  "Got any chocolate?" she asked Kath the other day.  I will have to bring her some.  I hope a good movie is on Lifetime.  We can fall asleep watching it together.  Kath also advised that Gram offered $50 for a shawl from her neighbor across the hall.  The neighbor wouldn't hear of it and said $30 is fine.  When Kath saw it she was not amused.  Apparently, it is a string of yarn that barely fits over her shoulders.  It doesn't sound like this shawl is ready to wear. 

I hope everyone enjoys their weekend. This is the most adorable video I have eva seen. Happy Friday, bitches.

Kind of like Sling Blade.

I had a dentist appointment earlier this week.  I do not like the dentist.  I remember going as a child and the dentist asking me how my gag reflex was.  Not knowing what he meant, I said, "It's fine." The moment he shoved a wad of cotton in my mouth, I almost vomited after biting his hand off.  You shouldn't expect an eight-year-old to know what gag reflex means.  That wasn't part of Bill Lang's National Geographic Trivia.  Speaking of Bill Lang.  He has the weakest stomach known to man.  One time, sista woke Bill in the middle of the night after she vomited.  Instead of consoling her and holding her hair back, a la Kathy Lang, he ran to the kitchen sink and vomited himself.  When our baby teeth were loose and we wanted to show Dad, he'd quickly look away and request for us to immediately cease what we were doing.  If we mentioned urine at the dinner table, we would hear, "Girls!" As a child, I never understood why he was such a wuss and was grateful he didn't pass that gene on.  However, now that I am an adult, I have discovered that this has changed.  At my dentist cleaning, while the hygienist was poking my gums with that devil instrument, I was gripping the arms of the chair afraid I was going to upchuck all over the poor girl.  My body was hot and my eyes wide open.  She kept apologizing.  It was torture.

Following the cleaning, I had to get a tiny cavity filled. The doctor's assistant, Cheryl, asked how I was and I sighed heavily and told her I was ok. I despise needles and was filled with dread all day knowing I was going to be shot up with Novocaine.  However, as I lay in the chair, Dr. R. said, "I'm not going to numb you."  I said, "Are you crazy? Why not?"  She laughed and told me the cavity was so small that the injection would be more painful.  All I had to do was raise my hand if I wanted her to numb me at any point.  I thought "She is whack," but I decided to trust a bitch.  Things were going well until she lightly touched my nerve with the drill causing me to almost eat it.  This caused Cheryl to drop her suction tool and delayed the process for five minutes.  Cheryl finally collected herself and started talking about a show she watched on TV about Superminds. "These people can remember what they wore and ate for breakfast 17 years ago!"  "Eewee?" I said. "Yeah!" Cheryl exclaimed. It amazes me how dentists understand their patients with all that junk in their mouths.  My friend told me he usually grunts the whole time.  "Like Helen Keller trying to figure out a math problem."  Dr. R. told us she used to remember everything from school, but not so much as she gets older.  Cheryl said, "That's cause you're havin' a baby! Your mind gets fuzzy."  "Eh a oo oo" I asked.  She didn't understand, so I made a motion with my hand of a pregnant stomach.  "Oh! I am due April 20." she said. "People tell me it's called the pot day." I tried to nod as if to tell her, "Yes. It is the pot day." I stopped myself and instead just attempted a laugh.  Cheryl had never heard of 420.  I was shocked as I assumed she was going to go home and smoke some "dope" as Kath would say.  "Is it a day that people don't smoke pot?" Cheryl asked.  Maybe she was playing dumb.  The conversation then moved on to a male doctor who enjoyed his women.  It ended up being my favorite dental experience. 

I can't wait for my checkup in six months.

In other news. My CF took me out for my birthday last week.  The food and wine were great.  The service was, too.  Until our server looked at my CF and said, "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Kirsten Dunst?"  I quickly defended her and said, "No. But she's been told she looks like Catherine Zeta Jones."  He corrected me on my pronunciation of Zeta.  Douche.  My CF said, "That's great, so I look drunk."   

She looks nothing like her.  Kath will be pissed when she finds out.  She gets very defensive when people tell me I look like Katie Holmes.  "You look nothing like her!" she'll snap when I tell her I heard it from a new person. I don't mind.  I just wouldn't want her to play me in a movie.  She's such a bore. I digress. We were walking out of the restaurant and my CF said, "Lately, I have noticed that I move slow.  Kind of like Sling Blade." 



She's something else.  I have to admit, she was moving slow.  Anyway.  I've got a full day of Phyllis comin' up on Saturday.  No better way to celebrate Jesus' birthday.  I hope Gram likes her present.  I am so excited to see my kids, I could cry.  And, the rest of the fam too.  It's been a while.

Feliz Navidad, bitches.

Maybe we'll get wild.

Monday night was a talk on the phone kind of night.  Some nights I ignore all phone calls.  Sorry.  My Catholic guilt usually kicks in though, and I call right back.  Other nights, I reach out and call a bitch.  First I called Gram. "HI HONEY BUNCH! HOW ARE YA?" she yelled.  I told her I was good, a bit busy.  "YOU STILL GOIN' WITH JP?"  I told her I indeed was.  Phyllis informed the both of us on a recent visit that if the bf were to leave me I would be "Boo hooin'".   I thought to myself, "Who would leave this?"  Anyway. Gram asked when I would be home next and I told her I would see her on Christmas Eve.  She asked if I could write her a note and let her know the dates I would be home.  She said. "I know it's hard, honey bunch, but I would really appreciate it."  I told her I would write her a note the next day and she'd get it this week.  Phyllis told me she would try and write me a note as well.  I hope it's on a paper placemat.

Letter to Phyllis:

I like to put in a picture of us so she remembers how cute we are.  Even if I do look a tad Jersey Shore. I put the letter in a pink envelope adorned with hearts and stars and sent it off.  With any luck she received it today.  After Gram, it was Kath's turn.  She informed me she won't tell me stories anymore since they will end up in my blog.  "But, everyone loves you, Mom!"  I whined. I think she should be flattered.  She went on to tell me, "Your blog only has 21 followers."  If that's the case, then only 21 people read about her antics.  That's what I should have said.  Since my blog only has 21 followers, I don't even care that my phone number is in plain sight for the world to see.  If you call, I won't answer anyway.

In other news.  Time to start thinking about your New Year's Resolutions.  Does anyone have any good ones?  I think 2009 was the only year I honored my resolutions.  I don't think I made any last year.  This year I have a few.  I am going to post them on here so I am held accountable.  1.) I need to drink more water. My bladder is the size of an ant's so not only will that be fun, it will be convenient.  I won't drink water when I take the Peter Pan home.  I'm too afraid to leave my backpack and I don't trust strangers.  2.) Kick heroin. Thanks for the support, Ma. 3.) I need to post on this piece more.  4.) Lastly, I must read the news on the regular.  I hadn't a clue what WikiLeaks was until the BZ explained it to me last week.  I assumed classified news was leaked on Wikipedia.com.  Bill Lang and CF are going to kill me.  Less New York Housewives, more New York Times.

To end, I have to comment on the latest celeb split.  If anyone remembers, I wished back in April for this break-up.  ScarJo and Ryan Reynolds are ova.  I sure hope he gives Sandra Bullock a call.  I think Betty White would agree.

Until next time, 

Meredith Elizabeth Lang

"CIAO."

Tis the season for holiday parties. I have two this weekend, three next weekend and then it's Christmas.  My work Christmas party is tonight  After a fancy dinner, we're going to "da club", so I knew I would not be allowed to roll up in my usual homeless attire.  "What, you don't like my XL male hoodie, boss?"  I am not what you would call trendy. I think the last time I wore a skirt was the 90's.  That's not true, but it has been years.  I'm more of a jeans or yoga pants kind of gal.  Anyway.  I knew I had to step it up.  As you all know, I think shopping is for the devil.  I despise it.  It took me three shopping trips to find an outfit to wear.  First trip, I bought a little black dress to wear with leggings and boots.  Looked great at the store.  Then I went home and tried it on.  I looked like I was dressing up as a slutty witch on Halloween.  Kath def would not have approved. Then I tried on a green shirt, again with the leggings and boots.  Initially, I thought, "Oh, cute!"  Then I realized I looked like Peter Pan.  I suppose I have a new outfit for the bus.

My last resort was a fetch little store in the North End.  Normally when a retail employee asks me if I need help, I avoid eye contact and say, "I'm all set, just looking!"  This time, when the lady asked if there was anything specific I was looking for, I replied, "Yes! Something for my work party that goes with leggings and boots.  And it has to cover my ass." She immediately went to work.  She found a few items and I said I would start with those.  She also suggested a belt to wear, but I politely declined.  I love the Kardashian's, but I would look like an ass dressing like one.  I only tried on one item and it met the criteria above.  Sold.

In other news.  Still haven't done too much Christmas shopping.  However, that is because I have a personal shopper.  Thanks, sista friend!  Thanksgiving was lovely.  It was wonderful spending an entire day with Phyllis.  She looked marvelous.  And, I was not too hung over like last year.  My brother-in-law's (hey, cognato!) grandmother from Italy moved to the states recently and was also in attendance.  Phyllis was glad to have someone close to her age to talk to, even though Bisnonna does not speak English.  At one point, Gram yelled across the table, "NOW. JUST SAY YES OR NO.  DO YOU LIKE LIVING IN THE UNITED STATES?"  That's almost like the time I met Vinnie's cousin from Italy.  I was introduced to his cousin and I said, "CIAO."  He looked at me a little strangely and said "Ciao" back.  Only later when he was speaking perfect English did I realize it was his cousin from East Longmeadow, Massachusetts.  Phyll and I make a great team.  We are great with the I-talians.

I am getting closer to my 30s.  Wonderful.  My sister was a sketch and told me she would drive me back to Boston as a birthday present.  I thought, OK.  The plan was to get Indian takeout for my family birthday bash.  Kath does not eat any food other than traditional grilled chicken sandwiches, "MayoonthesidenotomatocanIhavecoleslawinsteadoffriesIdon'tknowifIlikeyourfriessoIdon'twanttochanceitOHand canIhaveaDietCokewithjustalittlebitoficeactuallycanyouputtheiceinaseparateglassthanksmarie"  So, I thought we each could eat what we wanted in the comfort of my sista's home.  Mom could have a Diet Coke and not worry about the amount of ice and I could get some chicken masala.  I napped while waiting for the food.  I was exhausted from waking up at 3:17 a.m. for the Black Friday excursion.  I didn't even bother showering that day.  What.  Meaghan asked if I could get the door for delivery.  I hate when she does that.  I don't like talking to strangers.  We fight over who has to call for takeout constantly.  I grabbed the money from the counter and opened the door. The handsome Indian delivery man said, "Hey."  I looked at him. I said, "Hi" and looked down to count the money.  When I looked back up, I realized it was the bf.  What a guy.  He even had the food.

I don't have any other updates.  My CF and I chatted for two hours and 20 minutes the other night.  We have a wine date next Friday.  I can't wait. I will have to tell her to hold off on watching our latest favorite Bravo show so we can watch together like old times.  Actually, we will probably both have watched it and just want to watch it again.  Anyway.  I'll end by posting this gem of a song.  You're welcome.



Must Love Gran Crackers

What up, bitches?  This will be a quick one since I don't have too much to say.  However, I will be spending a decent amount of time with Phyllis this week and will hopefully have a post worthy update for you next week.  Anyway. Have you started your holiday shopping yet?  If you are anything like me then that answer is no.  I am the worst.  Last year, I did my Christmas shopping the week after.  I don't have a car and I hate shopping.  And other people that shop.  They walk too slow.  I end up swearing at them under my breath.  Holiday procrastination doesn't run in the family.  My sista and Kath are always prepared. I never partake in Black Friday because I can't think of a worse way to spend a day.  However, when sista Meaghan sexted me asking if I was going to go, she wrote, "It wasnt that bad last yr. It was kinda fun :)"  I knew she wanted me to go because she included a smiley face emoticon.  Sold. 

In other news.  The little bean can say "Titi".  I called two Friday's ago.  She grabbed the phone, or so I like to think, and said, "Hii."  Then she said, "Titi." My heart melted.  Of course, this task took me a bit of time to teach my little bean.  Months, actually.  I wasn't too pleased when, during a recent visit with the bf, Kath said, "Annabella, can you say JP?"  She said, "JPeee".  She's a little shit.

See?

The bf and I had  a lovely visit with Phyllis two weekends ago.  Gram is starting to act like her fresh self when Jon P. is around, which must mean she feels comfortable in his presence.  At two points she said that I needed a spanking over the knee.  I reminded her that I was not hit as a child.  No need to change things this late in life.  I don't even recall what I said to bring about such a comment.  I asked Gram if she had a boyfriend.  "Not yet!"  she said.  Good thing I love to Google  shit. I stumbled upon this little gem of a site:  http://www.datingforseniors.com/. I found 139 potential matches for Phyllis.  I can't wait to set up a profile for her on Thursday.  "Must Love Gran Crackers". During the visit, I noticed that the time on her watch was still an hour ahead. I tried fixing it to no avail.  I enlisted the help of Jon P.  He was able to fix it.  I put it on Gram and said, "It's a good thing you have his business card.  You can call him at allll hours of the night if you have any issues with your watch."  She gave me a questioning look.  To which I replied, "He is up all hours because he is addicted to drugs."  Gram kept asking me to repeat myself.  I did, but she obviously did not hear me. I finally yelled, "HE'S A DRUG ADDICT."  Maybe that is when she said I deserved a spanking. 

Just to let everyone know, (so I don't get a beating, though Bill Lang would say I deserve it), the bf is not addicted to drugs.  Drug addicts are too high maintenance. 

I'll end on that note.  Everyone, have a lovely Turkey day.  Here's to hopin' Phyllis finds her gran cracker love.  And, happy, happy birthday, Pops!

Burqa Bean

It has been a while.  What else is new. Much has happened since my last post.  No croup, though.

I drove a car for the first time in almost a year.  When I arrived at Fox Rent-A-Car in Seattle, there was a silver Honda Civic waiting for me to get in.  For anyone who doesn't know, that was the same car I used to drive.  Phyllis would have been so excited.  My old driving habits quickly took over.  I was passing slow people and riding people's asses if they were going too slow in the fast lane.  The speed limit on some areas of the highway was 70. That meant I could go 80.  I like to make Bill Lang proud.

My nephews turned "free".  I would appreciate it if they stopped growing.  When I went home for Meggie's wedding weekend, my sista and I took a trip to the mall with all three kids in tow.  I was holding both of the boys hands walking through Macy's.  We walked by the Junior Girls Department.  There were some skanky dresses.  I said, "Anthony, Nicholas, do you like these dresses?"  They looked at me and didn't respond.  I said, "Good.  Never date a girl that wears one of those dresses.  Date a girl that dresses like Titi." I hope they won't need counseling.  I told Tony I would be dressing my little bean up as a ho fo sho before hot dates.  I was kidding.  If Meaghan is anything like Kath, Annabella will be dressed in burqa's through college. My little burqa bean is also very close to saying "Titi".  She says, "Ti".  I will take what I can get. 

My best friend got married.  I smile as I type that.  Meggie was the most beautiful bride.  Vinnie looked a'ight. Their wedding was perfect.  No one tripped down the aisle, i.e. this girl.  I thought I would be a sobbing mess throughout the ceremony, but managed to maintain my composure.  My posture was perfect as well.  Vinnie's nephews told me so.  I am glad I wore a ballgown because no one could see my legs shaking.  I don't know why I was so nervous.  I  will need to take Ativan on my own wedding day. I also managed to make it through my speech without vomiting or crying.  I would rather drink whole milk than do any form of public speaking. 

Speaking of which, I had to present for work last week.  Again, I was a nervous wreck.  An employee asked me to "Speak up just a bit."  I smiled and said, "Oh, sure! That's my one weakness."  I quickly realized my gaffe, and started to awkwardly explain myself to the audience of 30. Then decided to just let it go.  I am glad I decided not to elaborate because I have lots of weaknesses.  Chocolate, fro-yo, my arm strength.  I should borrow Kath's Shake Weight.

Anyway.  The wedding weekend fittingly ended at Rehab with a visit with Phyllis.  She was delighted to see me and "John P".  Gram has a new nickname for the bf every visit.  I brought her a bunch of candy for Halloween.  She had a peanut butter cup and two kit kats during the visit.  She tried pushing a Tootsie Pop on me, but I declined.  I told Gram that I was "very hung over."  She smiled.  John P. told her that we cut up the dance floor at the wedding.  Gram seemed impressed.  Unfortunately, we did not see the biddies.  (My brother visited with Gram a few weeks ago. He was lucky enough to meet Roberta. As she does with me, she kept asking him who he was. He gave her a different answer each time. Clever.) We chatted about Thanksgiving.  I am so looking forward to a long visit with Phyllis.  And watching Toy Story 3 with my kids. They are so cute, I am afraid I am going to eat them. 

To end, I am going to post the oh so wonderful Mockumentary written and directed by Michael Ford.  Amazing.  Even if you don't know the DeCesare's, this shiz is funny.  And, a little crude.  I hope my brother didn't end up watching.  He shouldn't hear his baby sista talk like that. 

Relationship In Slow Motion [Part 1] from Michael Ford on Vimeo.

Relationship In Slow Motion [Part 2] from Michael Ford on Vimeo.