hearts

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so, i was talking to a good friend of mine recently. this buddy happens to be in a tricky relationship situation, one that you listen to and try to find something wise and original and helpful to say in response, and basically come up with, "oh.... damn. that sounds shitty, dude."

i think i can safely say that 75% of us (and by us i am assuming those who read this are 20 or 30-somethings that don't live in the remote wilderness and have exactly zero dead bodies stored in the deep freeze) have been in a long-term relationship that has been painful and drawn-out and made you deeply unsure about what love means and where you stand and what fate ultimately has in store for you.

talking to my friend, of course, brought up my own time and a lot of those questions and doubts from back in the day. (thank god it was back in the day.) i am thankful for a few things in life, and i'll count them quickly now - being in my thirties, having someone awesome that i appreciate (don't laugh, i give a lot of beef but i do recognize), and having gone through the drama and craziness so i know what i want, what doesn't work, and how to spot a bastard. during my most miserable, soul-searching shit, i remember looking out of the window at the wall of ivy covering the building next door, watching the fog roll through against that backdrop. there was one small window in that building that i could see clearly enough to determine that it was a bathroom window, and i used to sit there, all tragic, and wonder if the people in that apartment were happy. if they could sense my world of misery, if they were living what i was living. whew. (i told you. when it comes to misery i'm a pro.) as shitty as times were, i am grateful for that lesson, that i know what it feels like, what took me there, and how to go in a completely opposite direction if i can sense the fringes of that coming my direction.

ok. now that My World has been established, let's move on. what's the right thing to do? will i regret it for the rest of my life? maybe being in love is different for me than it is for others. i will never be able to forget that he said that to me. well, friends, no one really has the answers for you. it's something that you and your person work out, however messily, for however long it takes. it works out in the end, and when you get to that right place, you'll know it. you'll feel it throughout your mind and body. your internal chaos will be silent, those torn fibers will knit and become whole. something inside just tells you. but you've got to fuck up a whole hell of a lot to get there. at least i did.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

waaaaaaaaaay too funny. the cuchini! solves those pesky camel toe problems. you must see the celebrity photo gallery and WATCH THE VID. trust me. it's way too worth it.

so i was standing in line one day...

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wow, feels funny and great to be using blogger again. i'm beginning to HATE my other web publishing service. hate hate hate. anyhoo.

i had a funny experience yesterday. funny as in laugh-out-loud, funny ha ha. i was standing in line at the kaiser pharmacy, which happened to be my second successive day to be both at kaiser and in line at this particular pharmacy, and was minding my own business, hum dee dum, checking out the assortment of supplements and tummy aides and whatnot. la la la. so i get up to the front of the line and wait for the next available cashier, and happen to get the same guy that rang me up the previous day. i notice these things, but not everyone does, so i make it a practice, dexter-like, to not let my somewhat creepy observational skills out of the jar, lest someone take it offensively, or worse, flatteringly. so the cashier looks at me and says, "oh, you're stuck with me again today."

"oh, haha, yeah, i guess. i like to hang out at kaiser every day." (me, beginning to suspect that this guy didn't notice me because of his hyper observational skills.)

"yeah, i thought that was you in line, but i wasn't sure. i was going to tell you to just come up to me and not wait."

"oh, that's nice, but i don't mind waiting." (me, now certain that this guy rifling through my bag of prescriptions thinks i'm cute.)

and THEN, my new friend pulls out the three-month supply of birth control in my bag and whispers confidentially, "hey, do you need this right away?"

"um, huh? uh, i guess not." (what the fuck in hell? i am too confused to get indignant.)

"well," (still whispering), "i can save you $10 if you fill it through the mail instead of taking it home today."

"oh, cool. yeah let's do that." (kind of relieved - he's just trying to hook a girl up - and kind of knowing on another level that most people would find this invasive and i'm not those people but probably should be.)

"alright i gotta cancel this order and re-enter it..." blah blah the rest fades from memory. but you catch my drift. i thought it hilarious (trevor didn't seem to agree) that some dude was totally commandeering my prescriptions and getting all intimate with my shit. i mean, i guess he IS the cashier at the pharmacy, but it's not like he works the door at a club i want to get in to. you should - for the benefit of people not like me - maintain this facade of pharmaceutical professionalism even if you're handling someone's wart cream or whatever the hell, pretend like you don't know what it's for even though you do, pretend that you don't see it or don't care. i was just happy to have saved $10 and have a friend with questionable lines of professional conduct at the pharmacy, but that's just me. and we all know about me.

[side note: i know better than to jump in line in oakland. you would get called out by everyone from the seven year old in a cast to old grandma ethel waiting for her precor refill. you either have to have an invisible cloak or just had a huge pair of cojones and a thick hide to get away with it, and i have neither.]

catching up

what have you been up to?

my life of late has been a study in elder care. i am becoming intimately knowledgeable about the differences between a board-and-care, an assisted living home, and a skilled nursing home. i know what a dementia ward is, and what services it offers as opposed to a board-and-care. i know what different forms of bed and wheelchair alarms there are in existence, and why severely demented grandmas will never be able to sleep in a bed without fall pads and full bed rails. i've resorted to bribery with cheese puffs. it's a whole other world out there.

my grandma is very very lucky that she has one unemployed grandchild and a retired daughter-in-law. she doesn't remember it, but she gets daily visits, lots of snacks, tucked into bed and chatted with, cajoled to eat her meals, hot tea, and strolls around the premises. it's heartbreaking to only provide those creature comforts for the two or three hours you are there, but truthfully it's much more family contact than the average dementia ward resident receives.

you learn things. the staff at both of the two facilities she has occupied in the past month have been surprisingly attentive and observant, and i have learned to be more than grateful for the down 'n dirty CNAs that check on her every 30 minutes, sing songs with her, clean up after her, bathe and feed her. it's like caring for a very stubborn, dexterous, capable, oversized 2-year old.

you also learn that with senility comes suspicion. as a frequent visitor, some residents have routinely found me untrustworthy, others have only shooed me away or flapped at me with sheets on occasion. my old person is the same - anyone she doesn't recognize is instantly suspicious and receives a scowl. we thought it was just her and felt embarrassed about her anti-social ways, but after her roommate, mary, looked me very calmly in the eyes and told me she was waiting for me to leave, i decided this is normal. this is par for the course. don't worry about what it should be and get with what it is.