14 posts tagged “family”

We drank a lot.  Not as much as we had planned....well, maybe Leslie did:)  That's really all I can say about this portion of our adventures, so enjoy the pictures.

He's getting so big!  He's learned how to sit up and balance, and loves mashed sweet potatoes.  I adore him.

What lesson did your father teach you that still helps you in life?

Lock your doors, check your back seat, always have pepper spray on hand, unplug the hairdryer, and live in fear of freak accidents and psychos on meth.  Thanks, Dad...your paranoia has become mine, but I love you to bits anyway and I wouldn't trade you for the world.  Happy Paternal Unit Day!!

I started sneezing as soon as I crossed the border into Louisiana, and I stopped when I crossed back over eight hours later.  Huh.

Today was my orientation from the bank, and I had to drive, oh, an hour and a half each way to sit in a room with six other new hires and fill out paperwork.  Riveting.  But everyone was super friendly, I got a free lunch, and I'll be reimbursed for everything.  I start at my branch tomorrow.

Dad's test results came back today.  I got the news when I called my mom to tell her I was on my way back to Tyler.  It's not cancer.  It's a touch of pneumonia, and it's something he can beat.  He's fine, though I still have to keep pushing him to improve his lifestyle.  I may have to start force-feeding him.

I'm still recovering somewhat from Jessica's massive graduation kegger Saturday night.  I was all ready to take lots of incriminating photos.  I get to her house and realize that I've left my memory card at home.  F*ck.  Kristi and some guy named Mike took photos and promised to get them to me.  I got completely trashed on some odd combination of Miller Light, Shiner Bock, Red Bull and Vodka, and Sour Apple Puckers, then proceeded to tell stupid stories and take ten dozen trips to the bathroom, paranoid that the entire party was hovering outside the bathroom window trying to get a glance at my white Irish ass.  I smoked almost an entire pack of cigarettes between the hours of 8pm and 4am (when I had two left, they mysteriously disappeared and I don't know if they were stolen, or I inadvertently mistook them for Pocky and ate them.  It's a little blurry.), and now sound like one of Marge Simpson's sisters.  Scary stuff.  There was one almost-fight, one guy passed out in his car, one botched trip to the pub to "rescue" a douchebag, and a two-hour session of acoustic "jams".  Kumbaya, my ass.  All in all, it was quite a fun evening/morning.

I am so tired. 

Oh, and apparently, a large bird of prey decided that my helpless little car was the perfect spot for a drive-by shitting.  The pattern reminds me of a Spin-Out shirt I had in the fourth grade.

...for the thoughts and the prayers, the calls and messages.  We all appreciate them, and I will keep everyone posted. 

Amidst all this craziness, I had a little victory today: I passed my ten-key test for the proof operator position at the bank.  I get roughly 7300 keystrokes an hour (the minimum required was 6200), and my error percentage was 2% (minimum required was anything less than 5%). They said I'd be getting an email with instructions on how to fill out the second application, and I guess I still have to go get drug-tested and oh, yeah, the little thing called an FBI background check.  Wow. 

Get this.  If I get the job (it's technically still an "if"), I get to sit in a big room on the third floor of the bank building near the Square(!!!!) with a bunch of other people and ten-key for a few hours a day.  No annoying customers, no returns/exchanges, no shoplifters, and I can listen to my mp3 player while I work.  The only downside I've heard is that I'll probably end up with a wrist brace:)  It's paradise for a little retail slave like me!

EDIT: I've got an interview tomorrow!!!  Hope I don't screw up or throw up; both are possible.

Dad finally went to the doctor.  This is good.  But not really, as they found an abnormality in his lungs.  I'm freaking out.  I'm trying very hard not to freak out until we know for sure (May 6th...what the hell is with the wait?!), but shit, it's my DAD.  I know he smokes like a chimney, eats almost nothing but junk food, and his liquid intake consists mostly of chocolate milk and beer, but it still hit me like a ton of bricks.  It could be three things: pneumonia, mesothelioma, or cancer.  Any of these could kill him.

.................

Prayers, please.  As many as you can spare.  My dad is everything to my sister and I.

This is really, really, incredibly nerve-wracking.

Back in January, when I moved home to Tyler, I added a StatCounter to this blog.  I was curious to see how many people read my writing and where they hailed from.  I was pleasantly surprised to see hits from as far away as Russia, Brazil, London, etc.  But I noticed other things, too.

It's okay.  It's a public blog, and anyone who has access to the internet can and should be able to read what I write.  I still keep some posts private, even from close friends.  I have my secrets. 

However.  I do not understand why there are those who claim to hate me, who believe that I am a terrible person, and yet they are here, reading about my life, everyday.  Sometimes multiple times a day.   I hate that I have to address this, but I really don't understand.

Is it that:
a) you miss the friendship, as I do, and wish things had worked out differently?
b) you want to see if I'm miserable?
c) you're gathering ammunition?

Whatever the answer, I want to set aside my privacy for a moment and let you in.

The bad:  I do miss Jason sometimes.  I wake up some mornings thinking I am still in Florida.  I cry when I think too much about the library and the kids.  I feel like a failure from time to time.  I work a temp part-time job at the music store, and I barely make enough money to cover my car insurance and cell phone bills.  I have scars on the insides of my elbows from selling plasma to make ends meet.  I'm scared all the time. 

The good:  I drove all the way back myself.  I will be in school this fall.  I cook all the time.  I have the greatest friends a girl could ask for.  I have traveled.  I've dated, and though it didn't work out, I am grateful that I met him and care about him immensely.  He opened my eyes to the fact that I am a good person who deserves to be happy.  I drive my little car all over the place, no destination in mind.  I get out there and dance, even when I don't have a partner.  I wear dresses and pretty heels.  I drink when I can and have almost learned how to throw back a shot.  I'm still working on that.  I read whatever I want, whenever I want, and if I want to get online to kill a few hours, I don't feel guilty.

I am fine.  I hope you are fine, too.  I wish we could bury the hatchet, even if we do so in silence.  I want you to know that I am ready when you are.  Life is too short and too precious to carry a burden like this.

I feel like I haven't slept in weeks.  Here and there, back and forth, walking and running...I'm completely run down.

Thank you all for your kind words and support.  Nanny was laid to rest with all of her family and many of her friends surrounding her.  An old friend of the family led the service; he filled it with memories and funny little stories.  My sister and I felt a little awkward, as we are not considered the most glorious couple of branches on the family tree (we just haven't fully bloomed yet), but it was nice to see our relatives again. 

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Leslie came down this weekend.  We lit up the town Friday night with Kelli and Jessica (well, not really, but there was a fair amount of alcohol and maybe some heckling mixed in...great fun), then spent the following morning sipping coffee and watching Becoming Jane.  I'm in love with this movie.  I don't think much of it is true, but still...you can't watch Anne Hathaway or James McAvoy and not be thoroughly entertained.

Also, Leslie told me about Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, and I had to get online and view the trailer.  I'm really excited about it!

I got the news yesterday that my grandmother, my last remaining grandparent, had died of complications from pneumonia.  Nanny had been in an assisted living facility for the past several years, and also suffered from severe dementia.  Basically, she hadn't been "Nanny" for some time.  It's a shocking and sad thing to witness.  I'm glad that she is not suffering anymore, and I believe that she's in a better place. 

My family had planned a simple, private graveside service tomorrow, but I arrived home this afternoon to find out about an unexpected funeral home visitation.  Apparently, Nanny still had quite a few friends that had called and asked about the service.  My dad and uncle decided to hold a viewing tonight, and I went to support my dad.

She looked so different.  Skeletal.  Frail.  But her face was set in that same determined expression that I had seen my whole life.  We're stubborn people, my family and I.  It's our way or the highway.  That's the Nanny I remembered.

My five cousins, most of whom I haven't seen since I was fifteen, drove in with their flocks of adorable children.  So many years gone by!  The youngest is a junior at Texas A&M now, two are teachers, one is a stay-at-home mom with two little boys, and another has two little girls and is pregnant with her first son.  We talked about the old house out in Noonday, the strawberries we used to pick there, the old rope swing out back.  The games of Truth or Dare that we played long before we could think of any really good dares or had any secrets to confess.

I guess it's just a shock to see us now, grown and independent (for the most part).  I'll admit, I feel a little behind.  It's hard to watch those younger than you race by on life's little trek.  But there's time for that.  Not an incredible amount of time, as I was reminded today, but enough.

Kelli's coming up tomorrow for the service.  We'll probably go out for a drink with Leslie.  I'll get Guinness if I can.  Nanny was always so proud of me for loving my heritage.  I owe her a toast.