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.

Three bitches, one dude.

Cosmo is messing with me.  I had a lazy Sunday with Kerry, Chris and Jonas.  The plan was to do a bit of day drinking and watch True Blood. Rowr.  Eric is just, ohh.  Anyway, Jonas bought some tabloids and I of course purchased Cosmo.  One of the headlines was "VAGINAS UNDER ATTACK". I thought, "Is there a vagina war going on?  Is mine in danger?" Turns out it was about gynecologists trying to get you to have plastic surgery on your piece.  I have enough apprehension with my face, Lin and Chang will not be persuading me to get anything done down under.  Back to Cosmo effing with me.  I read my horoscope.  After reading, I have to wonder what constellations/stars they are consulting.  Maybe Webbie Debbie writes the horoscopes.  This was part of mine: "While he's in your mouth, hold a vibrator to your cheek.  Disgusting and dangerous.  The Sun, the Moon and the planets are unrealistic perverts.

I have to say Chris is a trooper. He hangs out with three bitches on a fairly regular basis and never complains.  We were having drinks before the Sox game on Friday when us girls started talking about when our next cycle was beginning.  We don't hold back on details either. Chris said, "I have made some poor decisions in my life that have led me to this moment."  Even yesterday, I walked into the room and mumbled something.  Kerry asked me to repeat myself and I whined, "My boobs are killing me."  Chris shook his head and chugged his Miller Lite.  I also shared my horoscope with him. He had to read it for himself.

I was exhausted yesterday and mused that I wished I had some Midol PM so I could sleep like a baby.  I stopped at CVS on the way home.  I was scanning the aisle and there was a man standing next to me looking at tampons.  I saw the Midol and grabbed it.  He snorted.  As though it was so typical of a woman to buy the product.  If I wasn't sleepy, I would have said, "I'm sorry, sir.  You're looking at maxi pads and tampons.  Your balls must be so big." I did flip him off behind his back.

I felt terrible for not going home on Father's Day, especially because I am my dad's favorite, but I could not endure another Peter Pan bus ride.  Sorry, Pops. I did chat with him twice this weekend.  He has a joke that when you ask him how he is, he replies, "Let me check."  Every time.  He got me on Saturday, but I got the sucker yesterday.  "How are ya, honey?" He asked.  "Oh, let ME check."  I replied.  He did his "Nyuck, nyuck nyuck" while presumably shaking his fist.  I told him how I tried sushi the night before.  He was impressed.  I even tried fish eggs.   I didn't tell my mom all of the details as she equates eating raw fish to risking one's life.  Kath worries enough.

I meant to massage my assface last night, but like I said, I was exhausted.  I will tonight.  It's going to be messy.  I return to the office of Lin, Lang, Chang at the end of July.  People tell me they can barely see the scar and it looks much better.  I need to figure out a story to tell my children about my battle wound.  Maybe something like, "I took a bullet in the face for you.  Pour me some wine."  Or, "I was knifed when pregnant with you, clean mommy's room."  Ideas welcome. 

Until next time, bitches.  Happy Father's Day, Dad!  XO.

"Maybe with Lloyd."

I would like to start by wishing Gram a happy birthday.  I know she never, ever reads this and has completely forgotten about its existence, but I just wanted to say it on here.  For the record, her birthday is not today. It was yesterday.  In case you want to write that down on your calendar. 

I just returned to Boston yesterday afternoon from my Sesame Place vacation.  Last Monday, we all woke at 3:30 a.m. to leave for Langhorne, Pennsylvania.  The ride wasn't bad.  But, it was a long first day.  By the time we went to see "Elmo Live" I was done.  As seen below:

The only reason I would not go back to SP is because they don't serve booze.  That and I don't have children so that would be creepy as hell.  How is it possible that they don't serve alcohol?  I understand that it's a place for children, but parents (and aunts) should have some sort of fun outlet.  However, the kids had a blast.  Anthony bossed me around all week.  He is one of the few people in life that I allow to do so.  He is capable of walking, but if I was nearby, he would scream, "UP!"  I happily obliged.  He's quite cute and it was a good workout for my arms.  I told Tony I can't wait to have kids because my arms will be in killer shape.  He shook his head.  Anthony also forced me to color for what seemed like hours.  I stopped coloring for only a moment because Zia and I finally had alcohol and I needed to take Zantac.  I was about to swallow my pill when I heard, "TITI! COLOR!"  I calmly told him I was drinking and had to take my Zantac in order to prevent the blotches.  I also said, "It runs in the family.  Hopefully this doesn't happen to you.  It sucks."  He replied, "Sucks."  Swearing runs in the family, too.

We returned from Sesame Place on Thursday night.  I was booked on Saturday for Maid of Honor duties, so Kath brought me to rehab at lunchtime on Friday so I could visit with Gram.  We brought her lunch from Panera since she hates the food at rehab so much. I was lucky enough to have lunch with the biddies again.  I found out that "Edna" is actually named Roberta.  Every four minutes she would ask, "Is that your grandmother?"  I would always enthusiastically reply, "Yes! She's the best."  Roberta would smile and sip her juice at my response.  I asked Gram if she had any boyfriends, and Nurse Edneida said, "Mmhmm.  Lloyd.  She is always stealing cookies for him."  Gram laughed and asked if she was turning red.  She was.  I am so happy she has a crush.  A few minutes later I asked Gram if she would sleep later.  She said, "Yes.  Maybe with Lloyd."  Phyllis can be so fresh.  Lunch was coming to an end and Roberta said she was sad to leave such an entertaining bunch.  I know she won't remember me when I see her next, but I can't wait to tell her what a wonderful grandmother I have.

After lunch, Gram ordered me to push her around.  She's just like my nephew, but older. Gram had physical therapy with John and I stayed for that.  I am hoping next time I get to see Gram Wii bowl.  Lloyd was bowling.  And swearing.  They are a perfect match.  Kath came to pick me up and I brought Gram to her room so she could rest.  No word on whether she had a napping partner.  I had my sister call me yesterday when they visited Gram so I could sing "Happy Birthday" to Phyl.  She was happy to hear from me.  So happy, that she sang "Happy Birthday" in return.  I wasn't expecting that.  To remind you of Gram's rendition:

In other news, the dress fitting went well on Saturday.  It was LOOSE this time, not SNUG.  I still think I need to tone up as the Bridezilla made a fat face at me when I was getting measured.  Isn't she awful?  I obviously joke.  If every bride-to-be could be like Meggie, the world would be a better place.  That should go in my speech.

  

By Sunday, I was anxious to return to Boston.  I just wanted to be in my own room and I wanted to watch the Real Housewives of NY Reunion on my DVR.  Of course, my dad had to bring me to the bus station.  It reminded me of high school.  I was young for my grade and took the bus all four years.  Rock star. Kerry would bring me home, but she couldn't wake up in the morning to pick me up.  (The rides home and the scrunchie ban probably saved my life).  Anyway, the bus stop was just a short walk from home.  However, Bill Lang insisted on driving me to the bus stop every morning.  Apparently, it was not embarrassing enough that I had to take the big yellow bitch.  Even  now, when he dropped me off at the bus station, he waited until I was at the door to go inside  the station before driving away.  I guess I should thank him since I was never kidnapped. 

I hope this girl eventually has a Kerry in her life.

We are family.

I am always sad when Memorial Day weekend ends.  I am also so lucky to say I have a family that can stand each other for three straight days. It was a wonderful weekend.  I saw Gram, made Bloody Mary's and was kicked out of The Blast Zone.  Oh, and I found out that there is a family history of the Asian Flush.  Without further adieu.

My CF and I took the Peter Pan home Friday afternoon.  Immediately, we wished we had wine in our soda bottles.  I can't believe we didn't think of that prior to the trip.  Next year. When the minivan came to pick us up, Anthony was in the back seat solo.  Nicholas was home napping. I told Karen how Nicholas told me to "Come home quick," last week without any prompting.  My sister and mother looked at each other and rolled their eyes.  "Meredith, do you live in a bubble? He's two-years-old!" one of the jerks said.  I said, "Yes, I do live in a bubble.  And I like living there."  The boys did say "I love you Titi" without someone telling them.  So I was told.  I don't know if I trust that.

Friday night was uneventful.  Karen and I tested out the trampoline.  We plan to take our show on the road in 2011.  After the trampoline, we bought the booze for the weekend.  Of course, we needed a ride.  We filled our carriage with bottles of Pinot Grigio and Bloody Mary mix.  I think the trampoline and half a bottle of wine exhausted us as we were in bed before 12.  This time we didn't have silly conversations overheard on the baby monitor. 

The Lang's were all arriving Saturday afternoon.  This left some time Saturday morning for a visit with Phyllis. Gram was sleeping in her bed when I walked in.  I tried shaking her to wake her up. She woke for a second, beamed and kind of sang when she saw me, then fell back asleep.  Her friend Lloyd wheeled by and asked if I was her daughter.  I said, "NO.  Granddaughter." I shook Gram some more and then nurse Maria came in.  She told Gram to get up so she could visit with me.  Gram obliged.  She's in a wheelchair now so she asked if I could push her around.  "Everyone has someone to push them around.  Not Phyllis!"  she said.  When we approached others in the hallway, Gram would yell, "This is my granddaughter!  Kath's girl! Isn't she cute?"  I think she was trying to pimp me out.  Lloyd seemed interested.  We sat in the dining room for a bit and Gram told me how great it was to see me.  And how wonderful my teeth looked.  This visit was such an ego boost.  I might have to move in with Phyllis.  After a few minutes, Gram said, "Wanna push me some more?"  I did and she said the same thing, "This is Kath's girl! Isn't she cute?"  She told me to wheel her to the cookie cart where she proceeded to steal two packs of cookies.  Then she ordered me to go find Lloyd so he could have them.  I wheeled her down to Lloyd and after much prodding, he finally accepted the sugar free pack.  Gram was trying to push the other cookies on to every resident.  Finally, a woman with a blue knit hat on, I think her name was Vera, accepted one of the two chocolate chip cookies.  Gram ate the other. 

After pushing Gram around the entire nursing home, she said, "Bring me to my seat.  Lunch is going to be served soon!"  I brought her to her table.  Henrietta, Anna and Edna are her meal partners.  Gram introduced me to all of them.  Edna, an adorable little lady who loves wine, asked if Gram was a good grandmother.  Twice.  Both times, I said, "She's the best!"  Edna said, "I'm glad you came.  Normally they never talk."  Henrietta looked at me and said, "We always talk.  She just can't hear a thing!"  Gram told me that Henrietta and Edna were sisters.  I wasn't sure if she was lying, but I think she was.  Though, Edna did say Henrietta had better hair. Phyllis said something fresh about her food and Henrietta started choking.  I asked if she was ok, and she said, "Your grandmother makes me laugh.  I laugh so much I choke.  And then my bottom teeth fall out." 

It was the best lunch I have ever attended.

I was sad to leave Gram, but she will get her fill of me the next two weekends.  I wish she could go in the Blast Zone.  I hope to have lunch with the biddies again.

When I returned to my sister's, no one had arrived yet. My CF and I decided to start off the day with Bloody Mary's.  At 1:00.  Then, my twin uncles showed up and I made some more.  It was a proud moment for me as the youngest of Nana's grandchildren making drinks for everyone.  When my Uncle Buddy first greeted me, he said, "Monica, right?"  I said, "NO!  Meredith."  At least it started with an M.  Due to this error, my friend has now taken to calling me "Monica Assface".   My sister and Tony went in with their friends and purchased a bounce house.  It's called "The Blast Zone".  I was told it had a 500 pound weight limit.  The kids invited me in.  I think that was the only time over the weekend that I put my drink down.  I was jumping around until Tony said, "Mere, I don't think you should be in there."  I was kicked out of The Blast Zone.  The kids were pissed, but my wine did miss me.

We had a bake-off on Sunday.  I decided not to participate as I didn't want to set anything on fire.  Especially the bounce house.  I just helped Karen with her moon-pies.  That's what a cousin friend does.  Even with my splendid assistance, (i.e. being her bitch) she didn't win.  Aunt Mary and Shaun won for their hot milk cake and chocolate truffles.  Both delicious.  After the bake-off we had a wine tasting.  I think it was the same day.  I could be wrong.  Due to the mix of wines and Bloody Mary's, I had a really bad case of blotches. My aunt and mother told me I had a terrible sunburn and was going to be in pain the following day.  I knew it was just my Asian Flush.  Kath thought a Nexium might help, but it didn't.  I asked around and Uncle Richard told me he used to get them all the time, but they eventually stopped.  I won't be a mutant for life.

Mom and Meaghan made a slide-show of the family that we watched Sunday night.  It was nice to see how horrible our hair was.  Debbie made fun of my side ponytail complete with a hot pink scrunchie.  I don't know what Kath was thinking.  However, a photo later was Debbie with a short haired perm.  I will take my scrunchie any day.  (I wore scrunchies until senior year of high school.  I didn't know what a faux pas they were.  Until Kerry and another friend dragged me into the bathroom and ripped a hunter green one out of my hair.  Mean Girls style.)

Back to the slide-show.  It was a hit.  Good job, Kath.  There was a picture in there that likely inspired the characters of George Michael and Maeby Bluth.  I won't say more.  They are my family. I am still sad that Memorial Day is over, but it's worth the wait every year.  Uncle Richard left me with these parting words, "Great to see you darlin'.  Don't worry.  The blushies will go away."  Maybe next year.