1. My dad's girlfriend had a heart attack on Thursday. Now, if you travel back in time to THIS girlfriend, then I'd be celebrating sticking pins in voodoo dolls wishing her a speedy recovery, of course. But this one sort of rattled me. He hasn't said as much, but I'm sure it's rattled my dad, too. We LIKE this one. A lot, in fact. So much so, that if they decided to get married in the near future, I'd be really quite fantastically happy about it. We haven't spent a whole lot of time together...I can count them on one hand...but it feels familiar and comfortable, and just sort of, RIGHT. So when he texted to say they were at the hospital, I was shaken, even after I heard that she was doing well. I went to visit yesterday, strolling into the ICU like I owned the joint, daring anyone to ask me if I was immediate family and planning my lies for when they did. (They didn't. If you act like you know what you're doing, other people think you do!) I was glad I visited, and she was happy I did also. I took her a big bunch of flowers from the yard, that I think she really appreciated. I was pleased that I managed not to get upset by being at the hospital, with the exception of a little heart flutter. I stayed through the debriefing with the doctor, I viewed ultrasound images of her heart and the opened artery, and all of it was okay. At one point, though, I got a little weirded out at how easily I slipped into all-too-familiar roles, and it was brought on by something really simple. S. (she can be anonymous for now) was turning to try to see the computer screen, and her gown gapped open in the back, falling almost off her shoulder. Instinctively, I reached out for the string and pulled it back across so that she wasn't exposed. Immediately, I...don't even know how to put it into words. It was something I would have done (and did) for Edna, or my own mother in that case, but it shouldn't have been that easy. It either speaks volumes about how ingrained that type of behavior becomes, so much so that it's reflex, even after three years, or it speaks of how very highly I think of S., and what a good relationship that could turn out to be. I'm not sure which it is (both?), or how I feel about it either way. Anyway, she's doing great, and went home this morning, with Dad in his also too familiar role of nursemaid. I'm sure he's feeling it, too.
2. On a completely different note, when did "bachelorette weekends" become the norm? Call me old-fashioned, hell, even call me OLD, but back in MY day, the bachelorette party was me and three or four close friends going out for drinks at a local bar/restaurant. Then we went back to my place and had more drinks, gag gifts, etc. And that was PLENTY. No matching t-shirts, no trip out of town, not just overnight, but for the weekend. Why are things so overblown? Do I blame the Kardashians and TLC shows that make everyone want to live like a reality show? I think so! If you haven't guessed, my sister's bachelorette weekend is happening this very minute...in Charlotte, NC, five hours away. And I, the so-called matron of honor, am HERE. Others would say that's by choice, and it's partially true. I really don't see the sense in it...but I'm not the type to go out for "girls' night" or go away on trips with friends and leave my family behind. Introverted, that's me. But I just couldn't afford it. This is a big reason for the "blue" feeling right now, because I really am sad that I can't be a part of this for her. But there's no way that I could pay for two nights in a hotel, every meal out (and not just McD's, either), drinks, matching t-shirts, concert tickets, cover charges, gas, a COCKTAIL dress (required dress for one of the activities), when that money could be a family trip, or a desperately needed household project, or just the mortgage payment. Anyway, I'm missing out, and trying not to blame my sister, who didn't plan it, but didn't stop it either, knowing full well I couldn't go. Yes, I'm bitter. Can't help it.
3. Speaking of household projects, my dresser-to-island project is coming along nicely, but has hit a snag. The piece of furniture is not high enough to be a functional counter, so it's sitting useless in the middle of the kitchen floor. Other pieces of furniture have moved out to make way, but I've reached the point where I need Bob Vila or Ty Pennington or someone to come build me a little something to raise it up. I know exactly what I want, but I don't do power tools. Especially saws. Uh-uh. Not this tomboy. But, it's painted, short, and ready for me to fill up with stuff, which I'm itching to do. I hate having to wait!
4. I made a calendar of events and available activities for Andrew and me to do this summer...and lost it. I've been meaning to sign him up for a day camp at the Frontier Culture Museum and haven't done it. I've wanted to take him to the library, but we didn't. The only thing I really HAVE done that I intended, as far as his well-being and summer enrichment go is plan some review and practice activities for every day...like a spelling list for the week and some word study activities, math games and worksheets, some reading comprehension things, handwriting practice...and boy, is he pissed! It really sucks to be a teacher's kid sometimes.
5. My summer reading is in full swing. Since last Wednesday, I have re-read Through A Glass Darkly and Now Face to Face by Karleen Koen (both at 730+ pages), and am well into my stack of YA fiction from the school library. I read a great book set in Key West during the Great Depression called Turtle in Paradise, and stayed up all night last night reading The Dead and The Gone, a slightly disturbing (and not leading to good sleep) novel about an apocalyptic New York City and one boy's struggle to keep himself and his family alive. Shudder. I'd include the authors here, but I'm too lazy to go look. My plan is to make a display of books I read this summer to hang in my classroom...but I probably won't. Good idea, though, huh?
6. I decided last night in my insomniacal (is that a word?) literary delirium that in a post-apocalyptic/dystopian/whatever the trendy name is now scenario that we could live off groundhog meat if we had to. There is a whole community here in our little neighborhood, with households of the cute critters under the neighbor's shed, under our porch, and somewhere in the other neighbor's yard. I'm watching two of them forage for mulberries under the tree right now. Weird thought, I know, but at 3 a.m. the anxiety kicks in and I start to worry about how we'd survive if our resources were suddenly cut off. I don't have food stockpiled in the basement (yet), the nearest non-convenience store is more than five miles away, I don't can or freeze, or even grow anything, other than mulberries, and...I'm pretty sure we'd starve. Except for the groundhogs. I'm going to need to build a slingshot. That said, I'm going to bed at a decent hour from now on, and no more reading scary stuff before bed. There's enough drama in my life without worrying about the food supply.
And now, off to "wash that grey right outta my hair," (remember that jingle) before they completely take over my head. I have no idea where they all came from! (Ha!) Crap! Why didn't I do that BEFORE the post, then I could have killed two birds at the same time...Sigh.
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