Long Long Day
I left the house at 11 am to drive to K for a quick lunch (it was not intended as a quick lunch but I realized when I printed out the directions to the funeral that it was going to take me 45 minutes longer than I anticipated) then headed out to parts West of here for the funeral. The town was a bit further than I thought it was.
The little people and I arrived about 10 minutes before the funeral was to start. Angie was in the foyer of the funeral home and she was delighted that we came. She hugged on the kids and kissed them both. Seating was at a premium. The service was very tasteful and very nice - especially considering it was a Southern funeral - I've been to PLENTY of Southern funerals (having a Southern family and all), and this was by far the most tasteful. After the preacher talked about some bible scriptures and talked a lot about rewards and crowns (gonna have to consult the Christian in the house on all that... I mean what kind of crown exactly? Big like Queen Liz wears at special events or just a tiara? (more sarcasm)) there was a video presentation to music. It was not quite far up enough for me and the little people to get a good view of it but we did see part of it. I think it spanned 4 or 5 songs - 2 of which were Elvis songs :o). Toward the end it showed photos of Angie and her dad and was set to Martina McBride's "In My Daughter's Eyes" (I might have the title a little wrong, but it's close). Everyone there knew that Angie was Daddy's little girl. I could hear sniffling through out the room. It was very touching and heartbreaking. Bob looked like such a happy man and I know he was Angie's hero. At the end the we did the "Shake hands with the family, express condolence" thing. Luckily for me I had the little people in hand and didn't really have to do that at all. Angie's family grabbed the little people and hugged and kissed them saving me from the awkward handshake and mutter of "I'm so sorry for your loss". I'm glad the little people were there, their hugs gave everyone on the first row big smiles.
To my utter surprise, amazement and relief, the little people behaved VERY well during the funeral. I probably used up all my Good Kid Karma for the rest of the month on this though.
Anyway, I'm glad I went, I think Angie and Martin both appreciated it. My thoughts are with Angie tonight.
Friday, July 02, 2004
The Fan, The Tub, The Floor
Today the maintenance man is coming to fix the fan, the tub and the floor. Theoretically. Yesterday the maintenance man told me that he would be over today to fix the above mentioned items. That still doesn't fill me with faith that these items WILL get fixed today. Ya see, last week an eerily similar scene played out. Thursday I ran into said maintenance man who assured me he would be by the next morning to fix things. I was busy Friday morning. I returned Friday afternoon to find that the fan, the tub and the floor were still in a state of disrepair. *sigh* I waited. I called on Wednesday to find out WHEN (if EVER) my items would be repaired. I'm seriously tired of NOT having a ceiling fan in my living room. The tub, well it's the tub upstairs and since I rarely venture upstairs - and have NEVER used the tub/shower upstairs, I generally don't notice the state it's in. I'm sure K would like it fixed though. The floor is the tiles in my bathroom. Part of them where 4 corners come together has come up off the floor and a certain little 2 year old who shall remain nameless (Cabbage Patch) took to picking at them. Not a huge problem, but it looks unpleasant.
I'm going to a funeral today so I'll be out of the house from 11 am (going to have lunch with K first) until 4 pm or later. It would be a delightful surprise to return home to a working ceiling fan, a not dripping tub and repaired bathroom floor. *sigh* but I'm dreaming I guess.
*Later*
Much to my surprise (sarcasm), when I and the family arrived home today near 6 pm the fan was not fixed. The tub was not fixed. And the floor was not fixed.
I take all the blame for this as I must have dreamed up the previous conversation (both of them!) that detailed when and how the above mentioned items would be fixed.
Petey called to day to jokingly offer to fix the fan while I was attending the funeral. I should have taken him up on it.
I want my fan fixed. I don't know who I'm going to have to kill or what ancient fan fixing gods I'm going to have to make an offering to, but I will get my damn fan fixed. Maybe a cute little voodoo doll of Juan the maintenance man would get his ass in gear.
Today the maintenance man is coming to fix the fan, the tub and the floor. Theoretically. Yesterday the maintenance man told me that he would be over today to fix the above mentioned items. That still doesn't fill me with faith that these items WILL get fixed today. Ya see, last week an eerily similar scene played out. Thursday I ran into said maintenance man who assured me he would be by the next morning to fix things. I was busy Friday morning. I returned Friday afternoon to find that the fan, the tub and the floor were still in a state of disrepair. *sigh* I waited. I called on Wednesday to find out WHEN (if EVER) my items would be repaired. I'm seriously tired of NOT having a ceiling fan in my living room. The tub, well it's the tub upstairs and since I rarely venture upstairs - and have NEVER used the tub/shower upstairs, I generally don't notice the state it's in. I'm sure K would like it fixed though. The floor is the tiles in my bathroom. Part of them where 4 corners come together has come up off the floor and a certain little 2 year old who shall remain nameless (Cabbage Patch) took to picking at them. Not a huge problem, but it looks unpleasant.
I'm going to a funeral today so I'll be out of the house from 11 am (going to have lunch with K first) until 4 pm or later. It would be a delightful surprise to return home to a working ceiling fan, a not dripping tub and repaired bathroom floor. *sigh* but I'm dreaming I guess.
*Later*
Much to my surprise (sarcasm), when I and the family arrived home today near 6 pm the fan was not fixed. The tub was not fixed. And the floor was not fixed.
I take all the blame for this as I must have dreamed up the previous conversation (both of them!) that detailed when and how the above mentioned items would be fixed.
Petey called to day to jokingly offer to fix the fan while I was attending the funeral. I should have taken him up on it.
I want my fan fixed. I don't know who I'm going to have to kill or what ancient fan fixing gods I'm going to have to make an offering to, but I will get my damn fan fixed. Maybe a cute little voodoo doll of Juan the maintenance man would get his ass in gear.
Thursday, July 01, 2004
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Shit That Pisses Me Off
New York child killer goes free. Fuck. This man killed his illegally adopted daughter and he only serves 17 years of his sentence???? Where is the justice in that??? Fucker should have gotten the death penalty.
And if that isn't enough read about Foster parents charged with abuse. They had 18 children in their home!!! I'm not fond of the Department of Human Services or their agency of Child Protective Services. Sadly another case of them not doing their job of PROTECTING children and placing them in safe homes. I hope these foster parents get prison time and get treated the way they treated the children.
New York child killer goes free. Fuck. This man killed his illegally adopted daughter and he only serves 17 years of his sentence???? Where is the justice in that??? Fucker should have gotten the death penalty.
And if that isn't enough read about Foster parents charged with abuse. They had 18 children in their home!!! I'm not fond of the Department of Human Services or their agency of Child Protective Services. Sadly another case of them not doing their job of PROTECTING children and placing them in safe homes. I hope these foster parents get prison time and get treated the way they treated the children.
Passing On
(just rambling tonight... sorry if this is just crap)
The Little People and I have a funeral to attend this Friday. I know, very depressing post. Angie is a dear, dear person. I've never met her father, but I've heard a great deal about him from her. I feel for her. I've lost my mother, I know how desperately difficult it is to let go of a parent - especially one you are very close to. Angie is so cute, she never refers to her father as 'father', she always says "my daddy". Her eyes light up when she talks about him and what a great guy he is. She's daddy's little girl. I was always a Mamma's Girl. It's hard to loose that person, to not be daddy's/mamma's little girl. Every time I've gotten an update about Angie's dad I've dissolved into tears. I wish I could take her pain for her.
I feel especially bad for her in that this is a time when she should be deliriously happy. She is getting married the end of July. My sister got married a week before our mother died. I remember how mom's impending death over shadowed her day, a day that should have been so happy for her. I hope that Angie's wedding being a little further from her father's passing will make it still a joyous occasion.
Anyway... I'm going to the funeral on Friday. The last funeral I was supposed to go to, I bailed on. I made an excuse about not being able to find child care - I made this after the fact so as to not have anyone offer a solution. I was a pussy. I still carry a great deal of guilt about it as the person who passed was a former co-worker. He was very fatherly and very sweet. I just didn't want to deal with it, he was the same age as my father. He has kids my age, grand kids my kids age. I'd like to say that I didn't want my final memories of him clouded by the memory of his sad funeral but that's just bull shit. Avoidance was easier. Deep down I'm a very emotional person. I sometimes just bubble over with emotions and I tend to be exceedingly sensitive. It's not exactly something I'm proud of or fond of - I really do try to hide it - the sensitive emotional side, I don't try to hide the bad temper I have, although I probably should. Anyway, this is why I avoided the funeral of my co-worker. I have this fear that I'll cry in front of everyone. I haven't cried at a funeral since my great grandmother's when I was a sophomore in high school. Seriously. I didn't cry at my mother's funeral. I wasn't raised to be like that. In these situations people fell into two categories - those who are to be silent and stoic and those who are to be brave and strong then fall into hysterics. I've always been in the first category - aside from my great grandmother's funeral (where I totally lost it and freaked everyone out by my hysterical crying). I don't cry in public. I've only cried in public once since that funeral - that was when my home was in a fire 6 and a half years ago - we lost almost everything. Thank G*d for friends, family and the kindness of strangers.
So anyway, I'm rambling... I dread the funeral because I empathic with Angie. I adore Angie and I wish I could take this pain from her. She's putting up such a brave front. I'd like to skip the funeral just because funerals are just morbid and depressing, I can't though. I'll go for Angie.
(just rambling tonight... sorry if this is just crap)
The Little People and I have a funeral to attend this Friday. I know, very depressing post. Angie is a dear, dear person. I've never met her father, but I've heard a great deal about him from her. I feel for her. I've lost my mother, I know how desperately difficult it is to let go of a parent - especially one you are very close to. Angie is so cute, she never refers to her father as 'father', she always says "my daddy". Her eyes light up when she talks about him and what a great guy he is. She's daddy's little girl. I was always a Mamma's Girl. It's hard to loose that person, to not be daddy's/mamma's little girl. Every time I've gotten an update about Angie's dad I've dissolved into tears. I wish I could take her pain for her.
I feel especially bad for her in that this is a time when she should be deliriously happy. She is getting married the end of July. My sister got married a week before our mother died. I remember how mom's impending death over shadowed her day, a day that should have been so happy for her. I hope that Angie's wedding being a little further from her father's passing will make it still a joyous occasion.
Anyway... I'm going to the funeral on Friday. The last funeral I was supposed to go to, I bailed on. I made an excuse about not being able to find child care - I made this after the fact so as to not have anyone offer a solution. I was a pussy. I still carry a great deal of guilt about it as the person who passed was a former co-worker. He was very fatherly and very sweet. I just didn't want to deal with it, he was the same age as my father. He has kids my age, grand kids my kids age. I'd like to say that I didn't want my final memories of him clouded by the memory of his sad funeral but that's just bull shit. Avoidance was easier. Deep down I'm a very emotional person. I sometimes just bubble over with emotions and I tend to be exceedingly sensitive. It's not exactly something I'm proud of or fond of - I really do try to hide it - the sensitive emotional side, I don't try to hide the bad temper I have, although I probably should. Anyway, this is why I avoided the funeral of my co-worker. I have this fear that I'll cry in front of everyone. I haven't cried at a funeral since my great grandmother's when I was a sophomore in high school. Seriously. I didn't cry at my mother's funeral. I wasn't raised to be like that. In these situations people fell into two categories - those who are to be silent and stoic and those who are to be brave and strong then fall into hysterics. I've always been in the first category - aside from my great grandmother's funeral (where I totally lost it and freaked everyone out by my hysterical crying). I don't cry in public. I've only cried in public once since that funeral - that was when my home was in a fire 6 and a half years ago - we lost almost everything. Thank G*d for friends, family and the kindness of strangers.
So anyway, I'm rambling... I dread the funeral because I empathic with Angie. I adore Angie and I wish I could take this pain from her. She's putting up such a brave front. I'd like to skip the funeral just because funerals are just morbid and depressing, I can't though. I'll go for Angie.
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Rain, Rain, Go Away!
We got cabin fever! We got cabin fever! (sung as the muppets do in Muppet Treasure Island)
Fuck. It's been raining all day. I need out of the house. I need to wear the tiny terrorists out. Chaos and Destruction are fighting over... Well anything, any-damn-thing that one has and the other does not.
This morning I was taking out the trash and I found a particularly valuable item (yes I was dumpster diving) - a pink Barbie jeep. The little people already had one. As in one car for two children meaning when one was interested in playing with the car, the other would also be interested in the car and fighting would ensue. So I grab it, bring it as an offering to the Tiny Terrorists and everything seems rosey. They accept the offering and head upstairs to play for about an hour.
Fast forward many hours later... Barbie cars hold no interest at all for either. It's raining outside, whining inside and they are now in the midst of negotiations (read fighting) over a stupid baby doll and doll back pack. I have a headache (sinus headache) and I want out of the house!!!!
Whaaaaaaaaaa!!!! Calgon take me away! (or bring me a roll of duct tape and some valium or a roofy-colda.)
We got cabin fever! We got cabin fever! (sung as the muppets do in Muppet Treasure Island)
Fuck. It's been raining all day. I need out of the house. I need to wear the tiny terrorists out. Chaos and Destruction are fighting over... Well anything, any-damn-thing that one has and the other does not.
This morning I was taking out the trash and I found a particularly valuable item (yes I was dumpster diving) - a pink Barbie jeep. The little people already had one. As in one car for two children meaning when one was interested in playing with the car, the other would also be interested in the car and fighting would ensue. So I grab it, bring it as an offering to the Tiny Terrorists and everything seems rosey. They accept the offering and head upstairs to play for about an hour.
Fast forward many hours later... Barbie cars hold no interest at all for either. It's raining outside, whining inside and they are now in the midst of negotiations (read fighting) over a stupid baby doll and doll back pack. I have a headache (sinus headache) and I want out of the house!!!!
Whaaaaaaaaaa!!!! Calgon take me away! (or bring me a roll of duct tape and some valium or a roofy-colda.)
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