Is it too much to expect the best of everything? Really. Think about this one.
Our careers should make us more driven, more enthusiastic to excel, and excited about the week ahead.
Our families should make us feel wanted, loved, and a part of a collective unit where no one link is better than the next.
Our relationships should leave us satisfied, with loving support and sincere understanding of our needs and desires.
Our friendships should complete this circle, filling in the tiny cracks of life with meaningful conversations and actions, which therefore allow us to have a better grip on our current reality and status.
****
Having spelled out what I believe life should be like, lets discuss the bullshit we actually see and feel on a daily basis. Maybe I'll even get to talk about a plan of action to rectify the half-truths I live and see versus the "shoulds" aforementioned above.
Careers:
Is it too much to ask that I am happy to return to work after a 9 day hiatus? Is it too much to ask that in my first full week off since 2006, my first vacation of ANY kind since I've been with my current company, that I'm left the fuck alone?? That's what vacation means people: vacate from the things of norm; get out of dodge; levitate from your current situation to a different place for a short amount of time, so when you come back, you can tolerate things again... at least for a bit.
I have been doing some soul searching regarding my current place in the business world, really since April 2008. And you know: I just don't see it. The first year in my industry went along so smoothly and quickly; I mistook to inability to stop and breathe for Happiness.
Now that I had a minute, I've filed away all the thoughts and feelings and complications I've encountered in the last year, and I have to say I AM OVER IT. Life is hard. Yes. But FUCK! Work should not have you taking stress tests, chest x-rays, muscle relaxers, and sleep aides. There are people that make what I do, and if it says 8-5 they are at home by 6pm with a fucking smile, a home-made charbroiled burger and a hi-life light bottle in both hands.
I had a great opportunity this week to see my laid-off partner in a new and exciting role in downtown St. Louis. I have not seen her so happy in forever, and it just makes you think: "me too?" Can I do that, too? She just FITS there. It's HER. And you know what's ironic, is that she actually liked her role in my company. I always told her "you haven't hit the 2 year mark... it's like turning 50. You realize how bored you got and realized when and where you lost focus." haha. Really.
So I'm thinking I need a little change-a-roo in this aspect of my life. I haven't hit the job search in a real way: It's a weird thing when you are excelling in your industry. But getting good grades in science did not mean I was meant to be a scientist. And receiving compliment after compliment about what a great Front-of-House POS trainer I am may not be enough for me to think I was meant for this job either. My report card says: A+, but looks bored in class.
***
Family:
Another oddity in life is when families are just not THERE FOR THEIR STRUGGLING 20-SOMETHINGS. Wake the fuck up people!! I actually have a wonderful family by comparison: hard working father, intelligent brother, do-it-all mom, caring grandmothers, etc. But I have a few friends that are in this strange place where they have no one. They call for help, their parents go: "I can't, but while we're on that topic, can I borrow $200?"
This is just not normal!! You are supposed to be 75 before we're helping you shop and cutting your grass and assisting you like you once did us. So again I state, my family is not today's example, however this is just too much to ignore.
I have friends that have no one to count on. They are 26 and they have what I call "fake families." On the birth certificate, around for weddings and funerals, and that's about it. So I have to ask: "Why are these people so negligent toward their kin?"
I think this is the reason I'm so giving to certain people; so willing to go the extra mile when others think it's crazy. I want these people to have meaningful relationships in their lifetime: someone they can call family, even if its someone with a different last name and of the same age. I love them, and I just want them to know that. And like all good family members, hopefully they are there for me if I'm in a time of need.
***
Relationships:
Why is it that when I enter a relationship, or should I say have experienced a relationship, do I feel guilty if I think I deserve to be told only the ultimate truth? WHY? And you know, it is not just me; It’s hard too when you know something fucked up about a friend’s relationship too. I learned the hard way a few years ago to keep my fucking mouth locked up when it came to friends’ indiscretions. And I’m sure my friends have learned a few things about me in the past that would seem a little askew.
Tis the season for us all to grow the fuck up, time for us all to start telling the truth in relationships. PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW the person they just said ‘I love you’ to. PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW all your faces in the beginning: Do NOT act one-way then show a different side.
I want normal. I want someone what can just ‘be’: maybe not be perfect- but can just be themselves. If we still like each other at the end of the day then wonderful… at least we’d know.
***
Friendships:
Friendships in general are a whole different game. A whole new animal. People that you have known for years should SEEMINGLY be the "best urban family members," the best shoulder to drunkenly cry on, and the one you can count on to show up if there are plans to do so.
Recently I've been wondering who true friends are. Also wondering if past decisions to change my friend circle are warranted. After this week, I've made a few discoveries:
#1 Yes: past gut deciding choices were correct. When faced with someone I used to be close with for a couple years, I was like "hm, shall we try this again?" "Have we all grown up a bit?"
Fuck no.
#2 We are all assholes at some point. I called out a near and dear bff this week: "HEY!! What's with being home two week-ends and I see you for 5 minutes??" She retaliated with "No offense Dee, there was a time when you wouldn't give me the time of day when I came home. You're the last person that should be talking."
Ouch. We discussed things via phone while we were both a little buzzed. All is well now. Alcohol is the band-aid for friendships. At least for me and my girl soul mate. LOL.
It takes strength to hold together good friendships just like it does to hold together a good relationship. We fuck up. We forgive. We try to forget. If you can't do it, move on. If you can, well then, my friend, you may have friends for life.
Hollah at your friend,
D
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
These… Are the Drams of our lives.
Really people. What happened to civil behavior? What happened to things you see in Pride and Prejudice where not responding with “please” and “thank you” got your balls detached?
Tonight was the RSVP VIP party Amanda planned, to continue on with the Creagan birthday extravaganza. Great job, too. Twelve invites, eleven RSVP’s for the 9pm event. She even changed the time to assist the people traveling from out of town. It was to take place at a brilliant vodka bar we all know and love, with a great sushi spread for dinner.
The main group was of course about 5 minutes late, as we should have been, because it was Creagan’s birthday and he needed to arrive stylishly late. “Well, hmm, we're the first to arrive, that’s cool.”
Our server was really nice, and we decide to just get an appetizer and some waters while we wait for the other 6 guests.
And wait. Waiting. Wtf. Waiting for our guests.
By 9:30 we are like “Time for that bottle of vodka we decided on.”
THREE of our requests are returned with a “Um, yeah, we don’t seem to have a whole extra bottle of that to give to you.”
So, here comes the owner, like 45 minutes after our DT’s started and the plethora of sushi was almost gone. “Here” he says, “Dan Akroyd’s new ‘Crystal Skull’ vodka. Half price for your troubles.”
Good boy Derek. Fucking awesome. “But hey, Creagan, that 750ml is going to last like 5 minutes.”
And it does. Goodbye $175.
By 10:30 everyone finally arrives, and I was straight up with them: "Uh, ya’ll. Why do you have a half drank martini from upstairs? Why did you get here, drop your coat, and go upstairs to some other small party? Why did you treat this RSVP private fucking room party like we texted you 20 minutes before the event with no other prior notice?"
RSVP means GET THERE ON FUCKING TIME. SIT WITH THE MAN OF THE EVENING. DON’T HAVE OTHER PLANS THAT COINCIDE WITH ONES YOU RSVP-ed TO. Wow. I along with others was pretty flabbergasted. But we made the most of it. And thank you to Jamal, for the extra bottle hook up! Love that Goose!
We leave there hundreds of dollars poorer, little bit more buzzed, and revved for a night in the ManGrove (Manchester Grove area… I love how this pseudo gay strip is playfully named mangrove, like it’s a men’s playground. Lol)
We do Just John’s, we do Rehab, then we do Novak’s, where party people go to have that extra shot that makes them vomit the whole next day. Actually it’s like the best fucking bar in the city for dancing and fun times. The prior scenario is just the story of MY life every time I go there :(
So the joyful ending to this story was when one of my seemingly brilliant colleagues invites “trouble” out after we’d all been drinking. And of course this colleague decides to do what I term “Start Shit in front of ‘Trouble’.” Why I have no idea.
As my boy toy arrives from a hard nights work, I am mid “BLAH BLAH BLAH DRAMAAA” because some fucking “straight” tool bag just told me I wasn’t his type, which I wouldn't normally care about, but at that point I was stomping around like a little 10 year old that didn’t get the NEW Bratz doll. Then, to add to the fun, “Trouble” decides to ask me “Why Dee!!?? Why does your colleague insist on ruining my night/life?”
So to the side walk I go. I’m over this shit. I’m sorry man friend for ruining your night. Thank you for coming, but I have to go handle some shit. Welcome to the show. Have a seat.
Ahhhhhhhh… To the "Trouble": “I don’t know and please get out of my face.” To the colleague that felt the need to invite them “COLLEAGUE GET YOUR DAMN ASS OVER HERE AND HANDLE THIS.” To the man friend I had just invited “Man friend please come back” :(
Three fucking ring circus if I ever saw it.
Sorry C, Happy Birthday. Hey, ended as I thought: Drunk Drunk Drunk.
To another year! 26!
Tonight was the RSVP VIP party Amanda planned, to continue on with the Creagan birthday extravaganza. Great job, too. Twelve invites, eleven RSVP’s for the 9pm event. She even changed the time to assist the people traveling from out of town. It was to take place at a brilliant vodka bar we all know and love, with a great sushi spread for dinner.
The main group was of course about 5 minutes late, as we should have been, because it was Creagan’s birthday and he needed to arrive stylishly late. “Well, hmm, we're the first to arrive, that’s cool.”
Our server was really nice, and we decide to just get an appetizer and some waters while we wait for the other 6 guests.
And wait. Waiting. Wtf. Waiting for our guests.
By 9:30 we are like “Time for that bottle of vodka we decided on.”
THREE of our requests are returned with a “Um, yeah, we don’t seem to have a whole extra bottle of that to give to you.”
So, here comes the owner, like 45 minutes after our DT’s started and the plethora of sushi was almost gone. “Here” he says, “Dan Akroyd’s new ‘Crystal Skull’ vodka. Half price for your troubles.”
Good boy Derek. Fucking awesome. “But hey, Creagan, that 750ml is going to last like 5 minutes.”
And it does. Goodbye $175.
By 10:30 everyone finally arrives, and I was straight up with them: "Uh, ya’ll. Why do you have a half drank martini from upstairs? Why did you get here, drop your coat, and go upstairs to some other small party? Why did you treat this RSVP private fucking room party like we texted you 20 minutes before the event with no other prior notice?"
RSVP means GET THERE ON FUCKING TIME. SIT WITH THE MAN OF THE EVENING. DON’T HAVE OTHER PLANS THAT COINCIDE WITH ONES YOU RSVP-ed TO. Wow. I along with others was pretty flabbergasted. But we made the most of it. And thank you to Jamal, for the extra bottle hook up! Love that Goose!
We leave there hundreds of dollars poorer, little bit more buzzed, and revved for a night in the ManGrove (Manchester Grove area… I love how this pseudo gay strip is playfully named mangrove, like it’s a men’s playground. Lol)
We do Just John’s, we do Rehab, then we do Novak’s, where party people go to have that extra shot that makes them vomit the whole next day. Actually it’s like the best fucking bar in the city for dancing and fun times. The prior scenario is just the story of MY life every time I go there :(
So the joyful ending to this story was when one of my seemingly brilliant colleagues invites “trouble” out after we’d all been drinking. And of course this colleague decides to do what I term “Start Shit in front of ‘Trouble’.” Why I have no idea.
As my boy toy arrives from a hard nights work, I am mid “BLAH BLAH BLAH DRAMAAA” because some fucking “straight” tool bag just told me I wasn’t his type, which I wouldn't normally care about, but at that point I was stomping around like a little 10 year old that didn’t get the NEW Bratz doll. Then, to add to the fun, “Trouble” decides to ask me “Why Dee!!?? Why does your colleague insist on ruining my night/life?”
So to the side walk I go. I’m over this shit. I’m sorry man friend for ruining your night. Thank you for coming, but I have to go handle some shit. Welcome to the show. Have a seat.
Ahhhhhhhh… To the "Trouble": “I don’t know and please get out of my face.” To the colleague that felt the need to invite them “COLLEAGUE GET YOUR DAMN ASS OVER HERE AND HANDLE THIS.” To the man friend I had just invited “Man friend please come back” :(
Three fucking ring circus if I ever saw it.
Sorry C, Happy Birthday. Hey, ended as I thought: Drunk Drunk Drunk.
To another year! 26!
“I’VE GOT IT!”
YAY! First day off in forever!! Amanda and I took off work this Friday to celebrate Creagan’s birthday, in a sober daytime way, (before the drunken party way like 8 hours later.)
We WERE going to go to our favorite brunch Crepes in the City, but it was a little later than brunch by the time we all got going, so we switch our plans to Caleco’s.
Two problems:
#1 I was still hung over from the night before at Caleco’s when I was accosted by NCAA wrestlers and the coaches that worship them. Thank you Nebraska boys for the vodka and toasted ravs—you made my face feel nice and numb from sweet sweet Goose. Needless to say, upon entering that afternoon, I was worried people would remember me and ask “weren’t you just here when we closed at 3am?”
#2 Any time we go to Caleco’s for lunch you may as well hand us a cocktail on entry. SO, let the games begin.
Lucky for us, this day we only had one… because "Stop 2" was The City Museum.
The City Museum is this recycled ‘Rave Kids’ dream: mirrored mosaics, slides, climbing walls, tiny tunnels leading to secret locations, etc. GREAT place for some 26-year-olds on a beautiful afternoon.
“Hey. Denise. Get in that hole. You can do it. Come on. I’ll cover your ass crack with your giant luggage purse.”
:(
Really. Why me.
“Dee. Get in this tiny hole. You just have to climb down, then climb up this slippery concrete wall, then go over the 10 ft wide barrel Marine style MAKE SURE YOUR BOOBIES DON’T SNAG ON THE PIPES!! It’s easy. You got it. I’ll take pictures.”
“HELP! MOTHER FUCKER! OW MY TIT! HELP ME! I’M STUCK!”
“Dee stop cussing! There are kids around! Where are you!!?? All I see is your left big toe. Why did you wear flip flops anyway?!?”
:( :(
Whatever, I made it. We have some GREAT pictures from this little excursion. However, I have to say, I have so many little bruises its just ridiculous. Long sleeve shirts for life.
The highlight of the City Museum was THE DARE. Amanda was like “hey kids, go up in that tall tower from hell, climb across the welded tunnel that eats thong sandals and Louis Vuitton wallets and spits them out to their death into a large ball pit, and then wait in line to go down the slide with the 10 years olds and their moms that hate us.
OK! GREAT! Come on C, it’s your birthday. It’s a dare. And we’re doing it.
In line was the best: “OW, my fucking feet! We totally wore the wrong shoes to be climbing up the tiny-stepped, death tower!!”
“WELL” says a mom, “Didn’t you read the website? I mean, come on, hu huh huh chuckle chuckle (I’m in Easy Spirit fucking tennis shoes…) It said wear tennis shoes. Poor you.”
Bitch.
So we’re off. UP, ACROSS, and DOWN the welded “tunnel” that spanned the outdoor section of this pee palace. This tunnel was made of quarter inch diameter steel rods welded in a thatch pattern with squares about 4” x 4”, and looked like an arch. “We can do this… Right? … Can we do this? … Should we DO THIS??!”
We started off fine, on hands and knees. When you get to the middle on the arch it’s a little scary. We both got stuck trying to rotate our legs around. Amanda is LAUGHING HER ASS OFF below us as I scream “CREAGANNNNNNNNNNNNN Help me!! Get it!! GET IT!”
“Get what??”
“My flip flop!! I’m holding on to it with my left big toe!! GET IT!!!” Hahaha. Funny funny. Fuckers. We get it. All is well. Then:
“DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! GET IT GET IT!! MY FLIP FLOP JUST FELL!! MOTHER FUCKER! No no no!!” Creagan’s little plaid flip flop was also almost a goner. Alas! Amanda yells “Charles!! It’s right behind you!!” Holy Shit how did it not fall through the holes?? We are soooooo lucky!
So we get over the arch of death, both still with our non-recommended flip flops, and we are now walking on a series of landings waiting our turn for the slide. And all of the sudden, C feels his ass.
“Uh. My wallets gone. Really. Where could it be. And if it is in the ball pit, who WOULDN’T steal a LV wallet?”
and all the sudden..
“I gottttttttt ittttttttt” a little voice shouts.
“What?” “Who said that?”
C and I are quite perplexed.
Then little Lindsay Lu Who from la la land comes off the death arch holding up the LV wallet!! We were like “No. Fucking. Way.”
“It was just setting there! Neat!”
Speechless.
So we both slide with wallets, shoes, and our dignity. Dare this bias!!
We WERE going to go to our favorite brunch Crepes in the City, but it was a little later than brunch by the time we all got going, so we switch our plans to Caleco’s.
Two problems:
#1 I was still hung over from the night before at Caleco’s when I was accosted by NCAA wrestlers and the coaches that worship them. Thank you Nebraska boys for the vodka and toasted ravs—you made my face feel nice and numb from sweet sweet Goose. Needless to say, upon entering that afternoon, I was worried people would remember me and ask “weren’t you just here when we closed at 3am?”
#2 Any time we go to Caleco’s for lunch you may as well hand us a cocktail on entry. SO, let the games begin.
Lucky for us, this day we only had one… because "Stop 2" was The City Museum.
The City Museum is this recycled ‘Rave Kids’ dream: mirrored mosaics, slides, climbing walls, tiny tunnels leading to secret locations, etc. GREAT place for some 26-year-olds on a beautiful afternoon.
“Hey. Denise. Get in that hole. You can do it. Come on. I’ll cover your ass crack with your giant luggage purse.”
:(
Really. Why me.
“Dee. Get in this tiny hole. You just have to climb down, then climb up this slippery concrete wall, then go over the 10 ft wide barrel Marine style MAKE SURE YOUR BOOBIES DON’T SNAG ON THE PIPES!! It’s easy. You got it. I’ll take pictures.”
“HELP! MOTHER FUCKER! OW MY TIT! HELP ME! I’M STUCK!”
“Dee stop cussing! There are kids around! Where are you!!?? All I see is your left big toe. Why did you wear flip flops anyway?!?”
:( :(
Whatever, I made it. We have some GREAT pictures from this little excursion. However, I have to say, I have so many little bruises its just ridiculous. Long sleeve shirts for life.
The highlight of the City Museum was THE DARE. Amanda was like “hey kids, go up in that tall tower from hell, climb across the welded tunnel that eats thong sandals and Louis Vuitton wallets and spits them out to their death into a large ball pit, and then wait in line to go down the slide with the 10 years olds and their moms that hate us.
OK! GREAT! Come on C, it’s your birthday. It’s a dare. And we’re doing it.
In line was the best: “OW, my fucking feet! We totally wore the wrong shoes to be climbing up the tiny-stepped, death tower!!”
“WELL” says a mom, “Didn’t you read the website? I mean, come on, hu huh huh chuckle chuckle (I’m in Easy Spirit fucking tennis shoes…) It said wear tennis shoes. Poor you.”
Bitch.
So we’re off. UP, ACROSS, and DOWN the welded “tunnel” that spanned the outdoor section of this pee palace. This tunnel was made of quarter inch diameter steel rods welded in a thatch pattern with squares about 4” x 4”, and looked like an arch. “We can do this… Right? … Can we do this? … Should we DO THIS??!”
We started off fine, on hands and knees. When you get to the middle on the arch it’s a little scary. We both got stuck trying to rotate our legs around. Amanda is LAUGHING HER ASS OFF below us as I scream “CREAGANNNNNNNNNNNNN Help me!! Get it!! GET IT!”
“Get what??”
“My flip flop!! I’m holding on to it with my left big toe!! GET IT!!!” Hahaha. Funny funny. Fuckers. We get it. All is well. Then:
“DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! GET IT GET IT!! MY FLIP FLOP JUST FELL!! MOTHER FUCKER! No no no!!” Creagan’s little plaid flip flop was also almost a goner. Alas! Amanda yells “Charles!! It’s right behind you!!” Holy Shit how did it not fall through the holes?? We are soooooo lucky!
So we get over the arch of death, both still with our non-recommended flip flops, and we are now walking on a series of landings waiting our turn for the slide. And all of the sudden, C feels his ass.
“Uh. My wallets gone. Really. Where could it be. And if it is in the ball pit, who WOULDN’T steal a LV wallet?”
and all the sudden..
“I gottttttttt ittttttttt” a little voice shouts.
“What?” “Who said that?”
C and I are quite perplexed.
Then little Lindsay Lu Who from la la land comes off the death arch holding up the LV wallet!! We were like “No. Fucking. Way.”
“It was just setting there! Neat!”
Speechless.
So we both slide with wallets, shoes, and our dignity. Dare this bias!!
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Random Thoughts
So, this weekend:
A 21-year-old moment
A 26-yr-old moment
A humbling, please let someone do this for me when I'm old moment.
***
So my weekend was seeeeeming going to be normal: Long work week, probably going to drink a bottle of wine one night, had plans with Creagan Friday after he got off work @9pm... all in all typical.
21: Oops I'm Drunk, Oops is that the sun?
Well Friday was halted when my Grandma Flo was still in the hospital, and I was called to be the visitor from like 7-10pm. So I go, I visit, I get home, and I'm antsy. Fucking cabin fever. And Creagan never called, so I'm totally bumming. Cabin fever plus no text from Creagan make neecie go crazy.
So, HARK! 11:35pm: "Hey Dee, what's up. It's not really late, wanna go out?"
Not late. You live 30 minutes away and we are going out a block from my house. What ev!!
So me and Creagan do gay circut Friday. First to a bar that was a recent client, so that's always fun seeing your hard work pay off, not to mention they have the most fun staff ever. So we close down that joint. Thanks for the free round, Ez and Robin!
Next: Uber gay dance disco night apparently. Yay! Party with the girls and the girls. Novak's was a fucking blast, and I only has 7 drinks and 6 jello shots before they closed 1 hour later. That's right. OMG. And OMG where did my money go. Plastic bad.
So, had as many Vodka RedBull's as me? YUP! On to the Oz!
"What do you mean I'm not free! I'm industry bitch! I don't need a paycheck stub!! It doesn't fit in this wallet purse!!
(Actually I've been using the Hooters Corporate Trainer tag for like 4 years too long... but DAMMIT IT WORKS!! Got to find that thing...)
SO, we close down the OZ! It's now 5:45 and luckily not bright outside to remind us that we are supposed to be passed out somewhere. So what else do we do?
On to a diner. Yup, on S. 4th where a client of mine had a gay disco with a diner next door, under the same parent company. Seemed brilliant, but it is no longer open and is now a recycled version of a terrible south county bar. So we find this dive diner next door and order cardiac arrests on a plate.
Fuck. Good times though. But then the sun is totally up, and Creagan had plans at noon, and I had a not so happy manfriend :( It was needed though.
26: Retail Therapy, "I have enough money, I'm not broke"
So Nick and I play nice the next morning (2:30pm) and he, Creagan and I eat "breakfast": bagels, Excedrine, and coffee. Nick's been up since 8am and had the world done and C and I were pulling our heads off the smelly pillows with only 4 hours of daylight left. Felt gooooooood.
So off to West County Mall we go. I had a coupon. Yes, I was to get $50 off of $150. I walk in, see the best season Express has had in like 5 years, and accidentally drop lke $450 :( It's all hot stuff, including the best jeans on my boo-tay I think I've ever seen. But I was going there to buy a dress for my friend Josh's bachelor party Saturday (yeah, that's right, on a gay party bus I'm a bachelor) and I didn't even buy one!! That means I spent that money for no reason. Ah well, I felt better, and Nick and I had a nice afternoon. I then proceeded to buy a new pair of shocks I'd marry if you could marry Nikes, and I had tobe done after that.
So to finish of that blissful day, Nick and I go visit C at his new job at Gulf Shores in Creve Couer. Much more his speed; yet another non-corporate he will soon own. My favorite thing? Besides the yum-delicious crab cake? Creagan's "Oops I forgot my black work shoes, all I have are these burnt orange vintage cowboy boots from the gay-disco night to wear with my black work uniform" work shoes that night. HIGH-larious. :)
Nurse Dee: To help an elder is humbling as hell
Saturday night was my first time to go take care of my Grandma Flo myself, overnight, for over 12 hours. My mom, dad, and step-dad did as much as cancelled a vacation, took a week of sick leave, and went to work the next morning with little to no sleep and came back that evening to do it all again. It was now my time to try to prove how mature and caring I could be. I wanted/needed to give all my other family members a break.
So I went in at 9:30pm, and soon discover that it was on MY shift, that she was FOR SURE getting moved to a new floor. A less hospitally floor. The speech rehab floor. YAY!! But quite honestly, I was scared shitless. I was her primary caretaker. I had to speak for her. I had to be at her beside until my mommy came the next afternoon to relieve me :( Eek.
BUT, really, it was a bonding moment. This whole process has been: both with Grandma Flo and my family. You realize what your family unit stands for. You see your dad and your step-dad able to work together. You then hope that you can create a family like that one day that will be there for you, too, one day.
I left there feeling like I played Karma for the better good for myself, and my grandmother. It's an odd feeling taking care of someone that used to take care of you. It's odd to be needed without having your own child, only two chihuahuas....
Either way, a very atypical weekend. Interesting. Learned alot about myself and my own strengths and weaknesses. Deep breathe.
D
A 21-year-old moment
A 26-yr-old moment
A humbling, please let someone do this for me when I'm old moment.
***
So my weekend was seeeeeming going to be normal: Long work week, probably going to drink a bottle of wine one night, had plans with Creagan Friday after he got off work @9pm... all in all typical.
21: Oops I'm Drunk, Oops is that the sun?
Well Friday was halted when my Grandma Flo was still in the hospital, and I was called to be the visitor from like 7-10pm. So I go, I visit, I get home, and I'm antsy. Fucking cabin fever. And Creagan never called, so I'm totally bumming. Cabin fever plus no text from Creagan make neecie go crazy.
So, HARK! 11:35pm: "Hey Dee, what's up. It's not really late, wanna go out?"
Not late. You live 30 minutes away and we are going out a block from my house. What ev!!
So me and Creagan do gay circut Friday. First to a bar that was a recent client, so that's always fun seeing your hard work pay off, not to mention they have the most fun staff ever. So we close down that joint. Thanks for the free round, Ez and Robin!
Next: Uber gay dance disco night apparently. Yay! Party with the girls and the girls. Novak's was a fucking blast, and I only has 7 drinks and 6 jello shots before they closed 1 hour later. That's right. OMG. And OMG where did my money go. Plastic bad.
So, had as many Vodka RedBull's as me? YUP! On to the Oz!
"What do you mean I'm not free! I'm industry bitch! I don't need a paycheck stub!! It doesn't fit in this wallet purse!!
(Actually I've been using the Hooters Corporate Trainer tag for like 4 years too long... but DAMMIT IT WORKS!! Got to find that thing...)
SO, we close down the OZ! It's now 5:45 and luckily not bright outside to remind us that we are supposed to be passed out somewhere. So what else do we do?
On to a diner. Yup, on S. 4th where a client of mine had a gay disco with a diner next door, under the same parent company. Seemed brilliant, but it is no longer open and is now a recycled version of a terrible south county bar. So we find this dive diner next door and order cardiac arrests on a plate.
Fuck. Good times though. But then the sun is totally up, and Creagan had plans at noon, and I had a not so happy manfriend :( It was needed though.
26: Retail Therapy, "I have enough money, I'm not broke"
So Nick and I play nice the next morning (2:30pm) and he, Creagan and I eat "breakfast": bagels, Excedrine, and coffee. Nick's been up since 8am and had the world done and C and I were pulling our heads off the smelly pillows with only 4 hours of daylight left. Felt gooooooood.
So off to West County Mall we go. I had a coupon. Yes, I was to get $50 off of $150. I walk in, see the best season Express has had in like 5 years, and accidentally drop lke $450 :( It's all hot stuff, including the best jeans on my boo-tay I think I've ever seen. But I was going there to buy a dress for my friend Josh's bachelor party Saturday (yeah, that's right, on a gay party bus I'm a bachelor) and I didn't even buy one!! That means I spent that money for no reason. Ah well, I felt better, and Nick and I had a nice afternoon. I then proceeded to buy a new pair of shocks I'd marry if you could marry Nikes, and I had tobe done after that.
So to finish of that blissful day, Nick and I go visit C at his new job at Gulf Shores in Creve Couer. Much more his speed; yet another non-corporate he will soon own. My favorite thing? Besides the yum-delicious crab cake? Creagan's "Oops I forgot my black work shoes, all I have are these burnt orange vintage cowboy boots from the gay-disco night to wear with my black work uniform" work shoes that night. HIGH-larious. :)
Nurse Dee: To help an elder is humbling as hell
Saturday night was my first time to go take care of my Grandma Flo myself, overnight, for over 12 hours. My mom, dad, and step-dad did as much as cancelled a vacation, took a week of sick leave, and went to work the next morning with little to no sleep and came back that evening to do it all again. It was now my time to try to prove how mature and caring I could be. I wanted/needed to give all my other family members a break.
So I went in at 9:30pm, and soon discover that it was on MY shift, that she was FOR SURE getting moved to a new floor. A less hospitally floor. The speech rehab floor. YAY!! But quite honestly, I was scared shitless. I was her primary caretaker. I had to speak for her. I had to be at her beside until my mommy came the next afternoon to relieve me :( Eek.
BUT, really, it was a bonding moment. This whole process has been: both with Grandma Flo and my family. You realize what your family unit stands for. You see your dad and your step-dad able to work together. You then hope that you can create a family like that one day that will be there for you, too, one day.
I left there feeling like I played Karma for the better good for myself, and my grandmother. It's an odd feeling taking care of someone that used to take care of you. It's odd to be needed without having your own child, only two chihuahuas....
Either way, a very atypical weekend. Interesting. Learned alot about myself and my own strengths and weaknesses. Deep breathe.
D
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