14 posts tagged “on my mind”
Today was April's mom's funeral. It was a short and sweet service at the funeral home and subsequent interment at the cemetary. I did pretty well until I watched as April placed a single flower on her mom's casket, said a few words (which I was not close enough to hear), and tapped on the casket. Unreal. Loretta was only 53. She enjoyed her job, she loved her family, and she had a good life. I find myself with quite a conundrum when I compare her sudden death to that of my grandparents' current circumstances: Is it better to die when things in life are good and not have the longest life or is it better to keep on living, even when each day is more painful and uncomfortable than the last, just to still be alive? I really can't answer that question. I do think that it is fortunate that Loretta will never be a nursing home resident, that she will not be burdened with medical bills, and that she will never have experienced a lengthy illness; however, she will never experience being a grandparent, seeing her daughter get married (should it become legal), and enjoying retirement with her husband. Is it worth all the misery at the end to have a few more life experiences over a few more years? I just can't find peace with the question.
I realized today that I feel pretty darn good. Things are going well. Life is good. Yay.
I think I am going to quit MySpace again. For the second time.
The site (and the people on it) continuously piss me off.
I like to read more about what someone is actually all about.
I don't like to see photos of what someone is pretending to be.
I do like the convenience of a lot of my friends in one place.
Then again, if they were really that important to me, I'd keep in touch no matter what.
I like having access to band information.
Maybe I'll keep my page and only keep the bands I like as my friends.
But where will I find my surveys if I quit myspace?
Uggh.
Grady woke me up right around 4:30 this morning. I couldn't convince him that sleeping was a better idea than waking me up to pour him a bowl of food, so I got out of bed. Of course, when I get up to feed him, I also have to wait up so I can let him outside and then let him back in the house.
It is now 5:30 AM. Grady is sleeping peacefully next to me on the couch. I'm now wide awake. And it is Saturday morning. What is a girl to do?
Well, I have no idea why the interest was relevant to my inability to return to sleep, but I found myself wanting to know whatever happened to Brian Austin Green (David from 90210). He was so cute back in the day... well, except for that rapper phase. So, anyway, I went to the (sort of) knower of all things(ish)... wikipedia.
Here's some finds from his entry (followed by my reactions)...
- He has a son named Kassius. (This fact alone makes me want to play a SNL-style round of "Really?")
- In 1996 he dropped "Austin" from his middle name to become "a legitimate rapper." (Okay, I didn't know that he was really a rapper, I thought he just played one on TV!)
- That same year, he released a CD called One Stop Carnival which was apparently not highly regarded. (Despite the title and my subsequent mental imagery of carnie folk, I may try to download his music for shits and giggles. I don't recall ever hearing anything from him.)
- "His newest project is a horror short called Grace, which is set around a miscarriage gone bad." (A miscarriage gone bad? Who has ever heard of a good miscarriage?!)
- His birthday is July 15. (I have just enough time to put a card in the mail!)
Now that I have the update on Brian Austin Green, I feel way more at peace. Surely, this is the real reason Grady woke me up. I believe that I will be able to sleep easy... ;)
Warning Sign - Coldplay
A warning sign,
I missed the good part then I realized,
I started looking and the bubble burst.
I started looking for excuses.
Come on in,
I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in,
I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones,
That I started looking for a warning sign.
When the truth is,
I miss you.
Yeah the truth is,
That I miss you so.
A warning sign,
You came back to haunt me and I realized,
That you were an island and I passed you by,
You were an island to discover.
Come on in,
I've gotta tell you what state I'm in,
I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones,
That I started looking for a warning sign.
When the truth is,
I miss you.
Yeah the truth is,
That I miss you so.
And I'm tired,
I should not have let you go.
So I crawl back into your open arms.
Yes, I crawl back into your open arms.
And I crawl back into your open arms.
Yes, I crawl back into your open arms...
It's weird pulling into my driveway these days. As much as I bitched about Grandpop and Grandmom's habit of staring out of the window of their side door, noting my every move, I kind of miss them being there. From the time El and I were young, they always had tabs on us. At certain times, it wasn't really a bad thing. For example, Mom and Dad would feel comfortable leaving us at home by ourselves (whether that meant while they were at work while we were on summer break or while they were on vacation out of state) because our grandparents were next door and could keep an eye (or four) on us. Of course, as the years went on, I felt somewhat like an exhibitionist when kissing a boyfriend outside of my house, knowing that they were watching.
If they weren't staring outside the side door when I got home, they would likely be found out in the yard. In recent years, we'd get knocks on the door from everything from a friendly invitation to Bonanza for dinner to a frightened plea for a ride to the hospital because Grandmom's gums wouldn't stop bleeding. Most recently, Grandpop would come knock on the door to ask if we'd seen Grandmom; we'd just have to remind him that Grandmom was at Salisbury Nursing Home, where she now has to live. It's almost like everytime we remind him of that, he hears it again for the first time and it hits him so hard. I can't even imagine what it's like to live life like that.
I try to remember that Grandpop's life is riddled with layers upon layers of emotions: anger, depression, confusion, vulnerability, sadness, fear, paranoia, loneliness, and short-lived bursts of happiness and clarity. Knowing all of this, and using my intelligence to process all of it, does nothing to diffuse the emotional drainage I personally experience. I don't believe that I will ever forget the Sunday afternoon just a few weeks ago that Grandpop told me that I didn't love him and that I wanted to see him dead, all as he was punching the side door of his house. He was upset because he thought I went to see Grandmom without him, though all I did was go out to breakfast (to which I had also invited him).
The more I think about it, the more I realize that I miss the people that they were. I guess I don't really miss them blatantly following my every move, as much as I just miss the awareness of life that they had. It's so saddening for my grandfather to not remember my name and for my grandmother to not to remember how to swallow.
Sometimes you just don't really know what you have until it's gone, which I guess is so true of so many things in my life.
I Still Remember - Bloc Party
I, I still remember
how you looked that afternoon.
There was only you.
You said "it's just like a full moon"
Blood beats faster in our veins
We left our trousers by the canal
And our fingers, they almost touched
You should have asked me for it
I would have been brave
You should have asked me for it
How could I say no?
And our love could have soared
Over playgrounds and rooftops
Every park bench screams your name
I kept your tie
I've gone wherever you wanted
(I still remember)
And on that teachers' training day
We wrote our names on every train
Laughed at the people off to work
So monochrome and so lukewarm
And I can see our days are becoming nights.
I could feel your heartbeat across the grass.
We should have run.
I would go with you anywhere.
I should have kissed you by the water
You should have asked me for it
I would have been brave
You should have asked me for it
How could I say no?
And our love could have soared
Over playgrounds and rooftops
Every park bench screams your name
I kept your tie
I would let you if you asked me
I still remember
- I am in awe of the fact that my house is located perfectly in between two WaWa locations. Okay, well one of them is still in process of being built, but soon I'll have to choose between them.
- I have a tiny little whitehead on my forehead. It's almost kind of cute.
- Today was my first Friday at work in over six months. It wasn't as horrible as I thought it would be and I got a lot of work done.
- I got nails today. Gel ones. It was an impulse thing. I want to stop chewing my fingernails, so I'm giving it a try. The only other time I've had nails was in 1999 for my high school prom... and I even chewed those off! At least I'm typing okay with them.
- I once attempted to do a handstand while I was in the shower when I was maybe seven or eight. I didn't get very far. I kicked my heels up and one of them hit the water faucet and tore a huge chunk of skin off. I shared that story with Mike last night while we were on the phone and I keep trying to figure out what would have motivated me to do that.
- I haven't been remembering my dreams over the last week, which is quite a change from the several weeks preceding this one. They were quite graphic, to say the least.
- I had Clay Aiken's song Invisible in my head all day.
- Keds always smell like Keds. Not really related to work, just a thought that I had while at work.
- Today I did a food stamp interview for the tallest woman I've ever seen. She reeked of incense (or something?). She kept repeating the same questions over and over and letting out the biggest yawns. Worst than her smell, ramblings, lack of memory, and distracting behaviors, when I started asking her about her recent release from jail, she handed me papers indicating that she had served time for four prostitution charges.
- Though my alarm went off when it was supposed to, I did not get up until 7:11 AM. I have to be at work at 7:30. Somehow I made it there at 7:34.
- I'm getting addicted to applesauce. I have all these individual servings of it in my office and it's the best breakfast and snack ever.
While I have a few weeks left of my four-day compressed work schedule, I wanted to celebrate my Thursday evenings for all the good things that they bring my way. I wake up a little easier on Thursday mornings because it's the fourth day in a row I've been up by 7 AM. The intake load is usually lightest on Thursday, so I don't feel as rushed to get to people and people don't seem as cranky because they haven't waited forever to have an interview completed. Generally I go out to lunch on Thursday because that's my last work day of the week and my coworkers want to do lunch with me. The afternoons go by quickly because I concentrate on how every minute that passes is a minute closer to my departure from work and closer to starting my long weekend. Every other day I get home from work, I'm drained; not so on Thursdays. I get a second wind because I am so excited to have my work week finished. Often I will come home and have my dinner or I'll go out to dinner, then El and I will pick up some scratch-off lottery tickets and press our luck. It's a crazy little addiction that we have. Thursday night is also the best night for tv: between My Name is Earl, The Office, and Scrubs during prime time and getting to see David Letterman during late night, almost all of my favorite shows can be viewed within a matter of a few hours. Best of all, I get to sleep in on Friday mornings.
My work schedule changes effective Wednesday March 28. At that time, I'll probably be going back to Monday-Friday 7:30-4, just as I was before going to compressed. It wasn't my choice to make the change (we all had to), but I think that even though I love my Thursdays as is, it may behoove me to work five days. I think that my work week won't be so exhausting, so hopefully I'll be more motivated to exercise after work, make my meals at home, and get into a better sleep pattern.
Thursdays, I'll miss our once-a-week date. Just remember, it's not you... it's me.