Isle of Remote

So another Thanksgiving has passed down the pike and we all are another day closer to death. (oh yeah, happy birthday to me…)

Went to visit the parents in the state I love to hate - Arizona. I really do hate it there, by the way. From their insistance on ignoring daylight savings time (half the year, prime time starts at 7 - how annoying is that?) and the convoluted freeway system that has every rat-racing idiot on the surface streets taking 45 minutes to go 11 miles. I really, really, really hate it. But that is not what the holiday is about, right?

I did have a great time with the relatives. Thanksgiving dinner was a bit of a crush with some thirty odd people in attendance. My weird cousin was all trying to be my friend, when half the time she doesn’t even talk to me. Whatever. BTW, she’s weird cuz she broke her husband’s wing-wang on their honeymoon (yeah, you read that right. I said BROKE!) and then told the family. Me? I woulda said he had appendicitis….but that’s just me.

Anyhoo - my cousin (the normal one) and his wife hosted the affair and there was food everywhere. But he did my favorite - he deep fried the turkey. OMG! I love fried turkey. If you haven’t tried it, it sounds like it would be greasy, but it’s not. The hot oil seals in the juices and it turns out really moist. I used to not have turkey on Thanksgiving at all because every time I had it, it was dry. I just assumed I didn’t like turkey. Try a deep fried turkey before you die, promise?

And it wasn’t too awful being at the parents. Not that it every really is, but sometimes I get so frustrated. My mom always gets mad because I don’t do things around the house. It’s not that I don’t want to, but just that they’re so freaking weird, nothing I do is ever right. Like she asked me to help with the dishes. So after she emptied the diswasher I went over to do the dishes. I’m rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher - its almost fully loaded when she asks if I’m rinsing them. Yes, of course - knowing she’s one of those people who likes to practically WASH the dishes before putting them in the washer - thought I was doing a good job, too. No, she says, I mean after you wash them. Say what? Apparently I was supposed to psycically divine that they literally WASH the dishes and just use the dishwasher as a drying rack. Hmmm.

There’s a million different weird little idiosyncracies like that. Ones they expect you to know because they assume its normal. The decorative trashcan in full view is NOT for trash. The real trash can is under the sink.

Admittedly, a lot of these little rules are ones of my mom’s husband and she seems happy enough to accept them as long as it keeps her from cooking.

But that was another frustrating thing. He’s sort of laid up right now and not supposed to be moving around. So my mom is doing everything for him like bringing him his meals and stuff. He’s in bed watching TV and talking on the phone. Oh, and driving her crazy.

He can’t let go of any little thing. He’s telling her she needs to take a bunch of boxes to the dump or refill his kool aid or giving precise instructions how to heat up his food when he needs to realize that going to the dump is not priority. His kool aid mug is a 64 oz mug. Anyone who drinks more than 64 ounces of kool-aid a day needs to face facts that they’ve got a problem. And he needs to be happy he’s getting food, cuz trust me, if it were me and my husband was 500lbs and laid up, I’d be putting him on a severe diet in a heartbeat.

Then I get a phone call from my father. He’s finally decided to return my calls, but at a time when he pretty much knows I’m not available. Very neat trick I learned from Dear Old Dad, that. Says he’s sending me 17″ monitor for my birthday. I hope I don’t sound ungrateful, but I hope to God it’s a flatscreen. My current 17″ monitor takes up a considerable amount of room, but it appears to be in good health.

My grandmother thinks I live in New York. That Alzheimer’s thing may not be just a blanket diagnosis after all. Although she remembers that I got a new car and that my cousin and his wife just had a baby. She seems to have blotted out her San Diego memories. Weird, huh?

But the good news is that no one was arrested and everyone made nice to each other for the holiday. It was the very best kind of dysfunctional family gathering.

There is such a thing as too much Vegas.

Tomorrow afternoon officially starts my vacation. I’m looking forward to it more than you can even fathom. This time Friday night I hope to be on Wayne Newton’s lap with martini in one hand and keno slip in the other. Viva Las Vegas, Baby! And then I go visit my family for Thanksgiving. Wee haa! See ya’ll after the 29th!

Abbie:D

Oh Farrah! What has happened to the 70s golden haired pinup girl? I hope she got the license of the truck that hit her. I’m a firm believer in plastic surgery and have my own wish list, but WHY did she mess with her nose? There was absolutely nothing wrong with her nose.

But someone who feeds you a line about how if they “fix” the nose, the rest of the face will look “better” and you hand over the money. This is why you have to fill your own cup. What you’re insecure about is only exaggerated as you get older. Apparently Farrah placed a lot of value in her looks and this is where it got her.

Farrah

Today is my father’s birthday. I didn’t send a card. I fully intended to, but it just didn’t happen.

I do still have a certain amount of resentment toward him. It’s not easy to put our rocky past behind me and move on. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to get tired of trying communicate with me and drop out of my life again.

And yet, I make it difficult on purpose. I don’t reciprocate well. I know what I’m doing and I know why AND I know it’s childish, yet still I do it. Human nature is a very interesting thing.

I know that I should try to test this new relationship, but I want to protect my heart as well. Which is kind of funny because deep down I know that my father and I will never have that kind of close relationship again. Not even because of there being too much hurt in the past or anything like that. But because he is who he is. He is a disconnected person at a fundamental level. He can only relate to a certain extent. He’s been like that in all his relationships, I believe, not just with me.

Not to get all Dr Phil, but I think because of his childhood, he failed to make deep familial connections with his second family, perhaps because of resentment toward his parents. When he was a child, my grandmother was very ill and they sent my father to live with an aunt and uncle so my grandfather could care for his wife. My grandmother died and at that time a lot of fathers didn’t raise a child alone. They saw it better that he was with the aunt and uncle.

So, yes, I do see his disconnect with those who loved him and how that plays out in his life today. I just don’t know how deep I can go with him. One, because I don’t know if I have the emotional stamina and two, because I don’t know how much he can withstand before bouncing off again.

That John Mayer song about fathers and daughters keeps playing in my head.

http://tequilamockingbird.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_tequilamockingbird_archive.html#109953917484163376 Ditto for me.

It is nearly 2005 and so I’m thinking what my theme for the new year will be. This year was about building intentional friendships. I’m happy to say that I’ve deepened my older relationships by making myself more vulnerable and I’ve created new friendships by being more available.

Being blessed with a great number of friends, I could sometimes blow people off and not feel bad, thinking I couldn’t be a friend to everyone. But sometimes its not about being a “friend” per se, but just being available. I think this next year is going to be about aiding people - using my gifts to make connections.

I’m having the yen to entertain and if I want to do that I will seriously have to move. My friend just bought a very cool house - 10 of us can fit in her kitchen without crowding. I admit to being jealous. I want a house where people will feel comfortable. I want to have parties. But who knows where my future lies?

I’m still waiting to hear from Hollywood (Burbank actually, but Hollywood sounds more movie star) so I don’t want to make plans to move before February. And I will need a better paying job if I want to move.
And what will happen with this inner-city mission thing? I haven’t done anything with it yet, but the call is still on my heart and I guess it will remain there until I do something about it. But then, I don’t know what capacity. I don’t know what I’d do there.

So, I guess I’m getting a lesson in patience and “being still.” Instead of being apprehensive and worried, I’m going to work on being excited and anticipatory. I’ll let you know how that works for me.

Where have I been? Let me tell you, it’s been Hell! Had a couple of days off and thought I’d do a little partying, a little gettin’ down with my bad self - if I only knew then what I know now….It totally wasn’t worth it.

After a ridiculous night of excess, I followed this incredibly handsome guy back to his place. At least I thought it was his place. Actually it was a hotel. I got kinda woozy after he fixed me these killer cocktails. Man they were tasty! I guess I had too many and just passed out.

Woke up in pain and sitting in a bathtub full of ice. There was a cell phone in my hand and a message on the bathroom mirror, but I couldn’t bend around the corner to see it all the way. Luckily, I remembered to dial #777 so the police dispatch could automatically locate me.

So the medics arrive and lo and behold I am missing my kidneys! Who would do such a thing! I was looking at a lifetime of dialysis, but luck started shining upon me.

Seems that the really handsome guy was caught at a gas station. He was hiding in this woman’s back seat and she had only pulled over because she had flashed her lights at this car with its headlights off and they turned out to be gangbanger initiates so they were chasing her down so they could shoot her. So she pulls into the gas station and tries to call the police on her cell phone (guess she didn’t know about #777) and the station owner sees her and comes running toward her yelling at her to turn her cell phone off in case she blew the joint up with the static electricity. While he was explaining it all to her he noticed a guy crouched in the back of the car. He made the lady come with him into the station where he locked the doors and called the police.

Within minutes, the police are there and they arrest the guy who just happens to have my kidneys in a KFC bucket - a side note - one of the pieces of chicken wasn’t chicken AT ALL, but a deep fried RAT!!!

They’re able to rush my kidneys to the hospital and stick ‘em back where they belonged. Word got out that I was in the hospital and my friends, who are so thoughtful, arrived with gifts. Flowers, a cactus, candy and my best friend, Elaine, gave me the cutest little chihuahua she rescued from starvation on her trip to Mexico. Another friend, Brian, gave me his brand new computer he got from Bill Gates, just for forwarding an email message! I mean, if I had to be in the hospital and in pain, it was worth it to find out just how much my friends love me.

I heal quickly so I was back home safe and sound in no time. I was determined to put the whole ugly business behind me and move forward. Paco, my little chihuahua, and I really bonded. I still wasn’t moving around much but I made myself take him for a short walk around the block twice a day. You should have seen him on his little leash - he was so darn cute! And the neighbor kids loved him. One of the little boys next door (he’s so cute) wanted to share his precious Mickey Mouse stickers with Paco - they were kind of weird looking (probably from the dollar store) but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings so I just took them and stuffed them in my pocket.

I think it was my second or third day home when I got back to my apartment and I noticed that the cactus I received in the hospital was looking kind of funny - like it was vibrating or something. I get closer and it is really humming. How weird was that? I thought maybe I’d placed it too close to the lamp or something so I tried to move it. Well, I moved it kind os suddenly and it broke in two and I’m not kidding you, but THOUSANDS of spiders came racing out!!! I’m trying to run away but I can’t move that quickly and I see poor Paco’s just getting attacked! They’re all over him! I try to scoop him up, but I’m screaming and screaming and the neighbors come busting through my door and they see all the spiders and they just grab me and run for it. I keep screaming for them to go save Paco, but they don’t.

There are still spiders all over me and the whole thing is freaking me out and I just faint. My neighbors knew I just had surgery so they called 911 (if they’d had a cell phone they could have just called #777) and the police and an ambulance come rushing over. I end up back at the hospital.

When I come to I notice that my friend Elaine is there and so is a police officer. Elaine looks really upset. I know she’s going to tell me Paco didn’t make it. “I’m soooo sorry!” She says. Poor Paco, killed by spiders! “I didn’t know! I didn’t know!” She continues.

Well of course, how could she know the cactus was full of spiders?! I tell her not to be silly, these things happen. “He looked just like a dog,” she says, crying hysterically. Wha? She notices I’m confused. “Oh Abbie! Paco wasn’t a dog! He was a Mexican sewer rat!” I guess that explains why he never barked and why his tail was as long as his body.

The police officer is still there and he’s starting to make me nervous. Things haven’t been going my way lately, I was right to be apprehensive. He tells me I’m under arrest. Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? I was in possession of a foreign rodent and an arachnid hosting cactus. Haul me away officer! I through my hands up to be cuffed. He did not think I was funny. Looked deadly serious, in fact.

Turns out that when I was passed out the searched my pockets and found those Mickey Mouse stickers from my little neighbor boy. Only they weren’t just stickers, they were laced with LSD and the area schools had all been notified that someone had been handing them out to children!

It didn’t turn out completely bad though, because the neighbor kid said he got them when I was in the hospital trying to get my kidneys back, so I was off the hook.

So, I hope you can see why I haven’t written lately. I’m just trying to take it easy and lay low for awhile. But if you think about me, I certainly would appreciate it if you sent me a card. I’d love to hold the record for receiving the most Get Well cards. Thanks for your good thoughts. Abbie:D