I'm Working On It

Last night we were at a hockey game and I was looking forward to the violence (i never want anyone permanently injured) and mayhem that generally come along with hockey.

I noticed at one point that my drink had fallen over and was slowly encroaching on the gentleman 2 seats down. I let him know my drink was headed his was and said I was sorry. His response was "it's touching me." I said again that was sorry and realized the rest of the row we were in was empty and I was going to make a recommendation he move down until I could get it cleaned up and he interrupted me to tell me the drink was now migrating south to the row below us. I AGAIN said I was sorry and I saw there was roughly 1 1/2 minutes left in the period. I stated then that I would go at the end of the period and either find towels myself or get someone to clean it up.

As a side note in hockey it's basically a sin to move during the period. The ushers don't even allow people to go to their seats from the concourse while the team is playing, they must wait for a stoppage in play.

My assessment of the situation at this point is: the drink fell over, got close to a gentleman two seats over, contrary to his statement (it's touching me", it hasn't touched him and is not in danger of touching him, because it's draining down to the row in front of us (where no one is in danger either). There's a minute left and I have said I would get the situation taken care during the break and have apologized THREE times.

He's getting really agitated, abnormally so, and I say again I will go in what's now 45 secs and I'm sorry. He says (i am 99% sure, it was a hockey game, they're loud) "I don't believe you."

WTF?! I don't believe you? really? are you kidding me?! A - it's a hockey game, not the opera, he had sneakers on, B- IT DIDN'T actually touch him, C- he could have moved 20 feet away without a problem, D - there's maybe 45 secs left on the clock which translates to perhaps a minute at which point I said I get the cleanup done, E - our seats are 4 rows from the ice, meaning a hell of a long way from the top of the stairs, F - cardinal sin of hockey is getting up during the action and finally G- I said I was sorry FOUR times!!! You don't believe me? JACK ASS

He gets increasingly more agitated and gets up, says something under his breath and leaves. The period ends maybe 30 sec later. My husband goes up to do the Clean up on aisle 3 routine, come to find out the JACK ASS had already complained about it. A nice man comes down and cleans up the drink, I thank him and apologize profusely.

Jackass doesn't come back for the 2 period, I figured he had left to clean his shoes because he was so upset. He shows back up for the 3rd period and INSPECTS the clean up work. INSPECTS IT!!! States there is still some drink there that needs to be cleaned up!!? It's now like an hour later, anything that was there has long since dried. I glance at him and give him a look that clearly says "give me a friggin break."

Okay, perhaps I should have jumped up immediately and screamed for a medic to get down there and clean it up. Or sprinted up the stairs from the land of near ice to the land of far the f away from the ice and demanded zorro come out of the wood work and hop to it, all while committing the cardinal sign of moving during play action. Or maybe I should have taken off my shirt and mopped it up in just my bra. Don't get me wrong someone has a heart attack, gets hit with a puck, there's a fight, or someone has a seizure, I'm not waiting for a stop in play action. But.... this.... was.... a..... spilt.....drink..

Phases of the evening: "it's touching me," and "I don't believe you." Courtesy of Jackass. HIT HIM harder - Courtesy of me.

Many, many months ago, when the stock market started to head south, we had a spirited debate in our offices about the direction of the country. My opinion was not popular, but I held to it. Everyone said I was crazy, there is no way the US would do what I thought. Here are my thoughts:

1. The government will at the very least make significant headway in nationalizing banks, if not succeed.
2. The government will attempt to intervene in big business, through take overs, increased taxes etc.
3. The government will attempt to save those who bought homes they couldn't afford, while leaving those who played by the rules out in the snow.
4. The government will attempt to institute nationalized health care
5. The government will attempt to remove guns from the people
6. The government will raise taxes on the "rich" forgetting that most small businesses are s-corps meaning the income from the business is placed on the individuals income.
7. Those of us who have played by the rules: work hard, pay our bills, will not get the benefit of that work, proportionate to our work in relation to those who get benefits without work or playing by the rules.
8. The government will increase its aim of redistributing wealth by increasing benefits for a certain segment of the popular and increase taxes on another
9. The movement of "illegal immigrants" will increase strain on our borders and probably result in increased violence and turf wars.
10. If the US is not careful we will lose even more of our quality of life due to policies and inflation
11. The US is quickly headed to a socialist state.

Many of the things I listed haven't come to pass and I would prefer that none of them ever did, however, many of them are happening.

Before my grandfather passed I was charged with keeping his check book. Not the smartest choice for you Gramps, I stated. I haven't balanced my own checkbook in (and this is embarrassing) in over 8 years. I do balance my business checking account but the accounting software is almost idiot proof. Well, almost. I have been known to make a few errors.


Grandpa did his accounting the old school way: a tin box that had the following in it - a calculator that could have easily been from the 1950's, a pen from roughly the same time period, tape, envelopes, checks. He never counted cents, he has, he told me for a very long long time, rounded up or down to the nearest dollar. Huh? What kind of system is this? He said "it's my book and that's how we do it." Okey dookey, you say so.


I did it his way and I must admit it's a heck of a lot easier rounding up or down, until the statement comes. Now I'm a person, I like to know to the penny what I have, with his system you just make sure the check cleared for about the correct amount. It was a disaster. I gave myself an ulcer worrying if it was close enough and what if and how come and, and, and....... so on and so on.

Finally I chucked his system, and found out his way was a good way to save yourself money. He was off my a large amount, in his favor, so he had an automatic emergency fund. Who knew.... geez gramps was smart!

Anyway, now that he's passed I am paying all the final bills and what not. He had many bills paid by direct debit right out of his account. Have you ever tried to stop one of those? Have you ever tried to stop one when the account holder is dead? Good Luck, and I mean that whole hearted, good luck.

1st of all you're not on the account, so they don't want to talk to you, 2nd of all they don't care if the account holder is dead, 3rd of all until you tell them they will not be receiving a dime, they will not even entertain the thought of giving you any information and finally when you state you need to stop a direct debit, the wheels fall off the train. See my convo below, I've embellished a bit because without the ability to give voice tone on this blog, you can't really fathom the stupidity:

Me - I need to stop the direct debit payment portion on the account

Them - We have to speak with the account holder to do that

Me - As I explained he passed away in mid feb.

Them - I understand that ma'am, but we must speak with him in order to make changes

Me- He's dead, do you propose we hold seance to reach him?

Them - Ma'am it's up to you how you reach him, but we must speak with him to make changes on the account

Me- I don't think you understand me (I am still calm by the way, shocking I know), he...... is..... dead.... as in not breathing, not eating........ crispy crittered..... cremated.....you know..... dead?

Them- I understand he's dead ma'am however we cannot make any changes without speaking with him.

Me- Would a death certificate be sufficient?

Them- Sure, however he must present it in person, so it would be best if you could just have him call us

Me- are you really this stupid, really? He's dead, he can't possible show up in person anywhere because he's burned into ashes and placed in an urn next to his wife, whose also dead and their dead dog.

Them- there's no reason to get graphic ma'am, I understand he's dead, however in order to make changes we must speak with him

Me- I swear to god, you are the dumbest, most idiotic, retard I have ever spoken to in my life, and if you know my life you would know that makes you a HUGE retard- let me speak to your supervisor

Them- Ma'am we are not to spoken to in that manner

Me- How do you propose I speak to a jackass, who evidently is unable to understand dead means a person is incommunicado, dead means they are not on this earth any more, dead means dead, and your asking me to speak to a dead man means you are DUMB ASS, put your GD supervisor on the f'in phone.

Them - Supervisor blah blah here. I understand you are being abusive to my employee

Me - your employee wants me to put a dead man on the phone and demands that the dead man bring in his own death certificate, so yes I'm a bit annoyed

Them - I can understand your distress however we have our policies and as my employee told you the account holder must be present to make changes

Me- Fine the account holder is located at (and I gave them the address for the cemetery) Please send all correspondence there.

Them- Lovely, i have updated that address, we will send all further bills there. How long do you think it will take him to respond.

Me- Oh, um... he's dead and your sending the mail to a cemetery so he should respond extremely promptly for a dead man.

Them - oh wonderful. Thank you and Have a good day.

Me- you are a complete f'in moron, have a good day.

Now, i took some literally license, but that's the basics of it.

So after that debacle, I call the bank to see if I can stop the automatic debits that way. I am on the bank account so they had no trouble giving me any info. i asked if I can stop automatic debits. She says yes they place a hold on the account, but the account will be charge $30 each time one comes through and it's denied. I explain why i need to have the automatic debits not go through on the account and ask again, if there is any other option.

Them -I'm sorry ma am but no there's not.

Me- this is exactly why banks are failing, You guys suck. A man has died, the accounts he has automatically debited will not speak with me, because I'm not on those accounts, and your telling me it will cost $30 each time one is returned, correct?

Them- Yes that's correct, unfortunately there's nothing else I can do

Me - then close the account

Them - Oh we don't want to lose your business

Me- then stop the automatic debits without the $30 fee

Them - I'm sorry we can't do that

Me - Close the account

Them - then the auto debits will simply be returned and all those accounts will be left unpaid

Me- yep that's right, close the account

Them- I'm sorry I can't close the account without both people on the account consent

me- For the love of sweet baby jane - the other account holder is dead, can i bring in a death certificate?

Them- no, both people must appear in person

me- HE'S DEAD, DEAD DEAD DEAD, how do want me to bring him in? Shall I break into the cemetery have him dis- interned and then bring in the urn? HE'S DEAD.

Them- I'm sorry for your lose however we have our policies......

Then I hung up
This is why people go crazy, complete bat shit crazy, this is "going postal" material

I finally went to the back where a wonderful woman told me then can freeze the account so nothing can be debited from the account only deposits can be made. I then inquired about closing the account. She said only one account holder is needed and as long as I close the account with in 2 months of the persons death it's not a problem.

Hallelujah.

Today, my longest and dearest friend had her first child!!! I was overwhelmed with joy for them. All the new newness, the baby goodness, the just plain wonderfulness. My friend lives in another state but it was all I could to not drive over and see this precious new bundle.

I have the feeling the cloud that has followed my family for a good while now has perhaps spent itself of all the rain it gould muster and now hopefully we will be left to bask in the sun of new days.

Another Ode to CancerGramps, I miss him. I read this to him when he was still fairly well. He howled with laughter.


May those who love us, love us;
and those who don't love us,
may God turn their hearts;
and if He doesn't turn their hearts,
may he turn their ankles
so we'll know them by their limping.

In honor of CancerGramps who never said goodbye, who always said "Gotta get to it."

An Irish Funeral Prayer
by Henry Scott Holland


Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Everything remains as it was.
The old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no sorrow in your tone.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting, when we meet again.

I walked into CancerGramps' house today, and I thought, This is a whole life. A whole life lived here and this is what's left. I'm not sure I am conveying that I mean,,..... I don't mean the stuff, the material items.... I mean the life, the laughter, the stories, the moments.... a whole life.

A whole life that is gone now. I have never before been hit so hard by death. I have had relatives pass, close relatives, but never before have I sat on the side of the road crying at a loss, or cried in bed at night etc.

Today we placed him in the "wall" (an area where people who have been cremated can have their own piece of the wall to be interned it) at the cemetery or the "cem" as CancerGramps and Buddha boy referred to it. Buddha Boy would always say "Gotta head to the Cem, see Grandma, talk with her and see Chad too." And CancerGramps would say, "Yep, gotta get to it." and they were off to the "cem."

I always ask Buddha Boy if Grandma ever said anything, he always says no, she's busy. And why they visited Chad I have no idea. Chad was not known by our family, he was a young boy who died and was buried in a small enclosure of his own. CancerGramps and Buddha Boy visited him religiously.

On the way to the cem, i was driving, and a person in front of me was taking their sweet arse time changing lanes and I said "in homage to grandpa, move it along crip." My husband laughed and asked what "crip" was. It was a reference to the handicap sticker the person possessed, grandpa always called it a "crip stick." He always stated he never wanted "one of those crip sticks," no matter how frail he had gotten. My husband was laughing and saying it was such a horrible thing to say, but he could see him saying that.

We got to the cem and my father and mother were walking out with the urn and I started laughing and crying at the same time. Dad was carrying the urn much like a football, cradled safely yet inordinately exposed. And was wondering if cancergramps dog was in the urn. His 14 year old miniature poodle's health declined just as Cancergramps did. I understand it is expressly forbidden to place animal remains with humans (which I don't get ashes are ashes right, and if you want to be buried with your pet ...... whatever). My Dad can be sneaky like that, shifty, slight of hand to put them together. He says he didn't, put them together, and I believe him but I have my suspicions as to whether or not she got her own little box and hidden behind grandma when the cem man wasn't looking.

Grandpa wanted no service, and we honored that, my father placed the urn in the wall next to the BOX my grandmother, to whom my grandpa had been with since he was 20 years old to the day she died in 2001. And my Dad stopped cold. He said if he had known grandpa went cheap on grandma he would have just gotten a box instead of the fancy urn. He started to laugh and we recalled how it took grandpa forever to get ready, and how he would have liked to have one up on Grandma. Here he was in a fancy urn and he got her a simple black box. We talked about how grandpa lived and loved life. There were very few tears. I was just as grandpa would have wanted.

I found a poem that I felt fit what I believe grandpa would have said when he passed, but we didn't read it, perhaps I'll post it here one day.

And life goes on... one foot and then another..... It just keeps going on.

I wish a was a writer. A person blessed with the ability to make you see the sunset on a slightly foggy afternoon, or hear the lullaby of love a mom sings to her child. I wish I was a writer so that I may be able to explain who my cancergramps was, really let people know.



there are no words, well none that i can currently string together to fully encapsulate him.



And now he's gone. Thankfully.



In the past month, when cancergramps was quite literally wasting away, I prayed to God for him to die. For God to take him quickly so he didn't have to suffer the indignities that death brings. He died the way he didn't want to die, wasting away. He had lost so much weight, so much. He was thin in a way I have only ever seen in pictures of the holocaust. He wasn't in physical pain, but he was in anguish over wasting away. He couldn't really speak, except to say wa for water and pee, for well, peeing. Otherwise it was just a string of small sounds that I could never really make out. I was struck that even at the end, when there is very little left your body has instincts to keep you alive.

And I prayed for death to come. I felt like I was somehow betraying God and cancergramps in praying for death. Seems like such an unGodLike thing to pray for - Death, merciful death. Yet this is what I prayed for, for day, weeks and what turned out to be months. I know it's all God's time. I know, I just hoped I had some ...... something.

CancerGramps died on February 16th, 2009 at 2:15pm, 2 days after my father's birthday.

I miss him more than I could ever explain. There just aren't words, at least none that I am qualified to use to explain the depth at which I miss him.

I picked up the phone he used in our office the day after he died. I did it absentmindedly, it was the phone I was closest to, and I receiver smelt just like CancerGramps. He had a very distinctive cologne he wore and I sat down in the chair, didn't pick up the line, even when it madly beeped at me, I just sat. It's odd how a smell can cause you to relive so much, so quickly. I never did pick up the line and we found an entire drawer of that cologne, I think 8 bottles, in his bathroom. Good lord he must have been collecting them every time it was on sale. I don't even know where bought it at, I didn't recognize it.

I miss him.

This peice is called "The 10 cannots" it is often attributed to Abraham Lincoln. I'm not sure who said it first but I concur with the whole list of 10.

1. You cannot bring about prosperity by discouraging thrift.

2. You cannot strengthen the weak by weakening the strong.

3. You cannot help the poor man by destroying the rich.

4. You cannot further the brotherhood of man by inciting class hatred.

5. You cannot build character and courage by taking away man's initiative & independence.

6. You cannot help small men by tearing down big men.

7. You cannot lift the wage earner by pulling down the wage payer.

8. You cannot keep out of trouble by spending more than your income.

9. You cannot establish security on borrowed money.

10. You cannot help men permanently by doing for them what they will not do for themselves.

Or OCto- Mom......What a name by the way.

Yesterday evening, after I watched all the crap TV that is so near and dear to my heart, I wondered onto Ann Curry and Octo mom.

Octo Momma has a serious dysfunction, well realistically probably several. I'll go into fits of convulsions if i talk about the fact that these children will be raised a single Mom, of her own choice. I'm not thrilled with the single mom by choice jig, but I'm absolutely against single mom by choice for 14 kids.

If you're widowed or abused or your significant other is in some other fashion indecent to have around kidos - bid him/her good riddance. But if that's the case you'll (theoretically) get child support, meaning help to pay for the kiddos, hopefully the other parent will still play a role in their lives. This lady purposely goes out and has 14 kids without a job or a way to pay for their expenses. That's crazy!!

You are setting you kids up for a very tough life. And don't give me that crap about love is all kids need. Hell to the no!!! As I once told my husband - baby love doesn't put food on the table or a roof over our head and in the words of Tina Turner, "what's love got to do with it." Basic needs is what I'm talking about!!!

Absolutely irresponsible to have kids without a way to support them. Totally different if you started out with a job and then lose it, you had a job, this lady doesn't even have a job. And her craptastic excuse that she will no longer have to take welfare when she's working?!! I don't know what kind of job she's getting in the counseling field, but I'm about to send her an email to find out. If you can get a job to pay for the expenses of 14 kids in the counseling field, when you are just starting out, I want to know what it is!!!

Anyway - I told you I'd go into fits......... She seems to be really misinformed about what constitutes welfare. She IS on welfare - disability, medi Cal, food stamps, day care at a CA university - all welfare by a different name, subsidized by you and me. (well a lot more you if you live in CA) On the disability tip, how was she physically able to carry 8 babies when she was deemed physically unable work at a fairly sedentary job? WTF? And if she could work before, how is she going to work now?? Help me out here... Now I have not had the honor of birthing anything, but my friends tell me, pregnancy is like a beautiful disaster. People who carry one can have a tough time, this chick bore 8, and while she was on bedrest for a few months, her back apparently wasn't a problem.

She receives welfare for 2 of her kids too..... I will say it again, some people need help some of the time, this chick is going to need help forever!! And getting disability for ADD?? WTF again, come on here - disability, really??? I believe in disability for those who truly need it, my brother is on disability because he is retarded and cannot hold a job (which btw the brilliant people at the government kept asking us monthly for months on end to prove he hasn't miraculously recovered, dude he's retarded and has been since his blessed little noodle was attacked by a virus, not gonna change now!!)

And octo - wacko saying she'll be able to care for all these kids?? !!!! DELUSIONAL. People have a tough time caring for 2 or 3 when they work full time and Octo Wacko isn't going to have problem caring for 14 and working??? Come the hell on here. Who does she think she's fooling???

OCTO - CRAZY I tell ya!!!

I've decided I need to bring back some ladyness to my vocab. so from now on WTF actually means ...... get ready for it...... it's really good...... nah it's actually lame......what the freddie.

Now you may ask why what the freddie - imagine seeing freddie kruger in your bed - what would you be saying?

Shit actually means....... should've had interceding thought before now.
Technically i guess that means it would be SHITBN.

I'm trying here. Work with me. I really am, don't tell me I'm really just saying WTF and the same old shit, under a different banner.

I'm not sure what other words carry the same effect as WTF and SHITBN. When you say them, there's no mistaking what your feeling are.

Don't I get credit for trying to add some ladyness in...... even a little?

What a movie!!! If you plan on seeing it but haven't yet - you might want to skip this post until you do.

Hubby and I went to see it this last weekend. Man is it good. Clint rocks the screen!! Even though his character (Walt) was a rude, racial slur hurling, tough man, he was a good man. Now I know people will say he couldn't have been, because of his use of hateful colorful language, but he was a good man. He did what was right regardless of the cost to him. He took a young man under his wing and taught him how to be a man, even when this kid had tried to steal the gran torino. He stepped in when someone should have and helped when he could.

I found it interesting how the racial slurs were bantered around in regular conversation. There was pollock, mick, slopes, giunea, white devil etc. Can these words be hurtful - absolutely, but more often than not, as long as everyone in the conversation is okay with it, it's just playful banter. One of my CancerGramps favorite saying was "loud mouth guinea." It wasn't said with malice, it was two men bantering. In our society we've gone to where EVERYTHING is offense to SOMEONE. I say get the hell over it, 9 times out of 10, nothing is meant by it. Hell in high school we have eddie the whop, bennie the beaner, eddie's little brother was little whop, and a hawian kid was coconut tree. We weren't being mean spirited, or racist, we were all friends.

Back to the movie - Clint's character Walt - his family sucked, and I mean sucked. I actually said out loud in the theater "I'd slap the shit out of her" when his granddaughter walked into her grandmother's funeral (in a catholic church) with a midriff shirt on, showing her pierced belly button and then proceed to text on her phone. I'm serious people. If I was at that funeral I would have smacked that girl up side the head. Through out the movie I was more bothered by his family's actions than any of the slurs running around.

He later says, while at a diner with his next door neighbors - "I have more in common with these gooks then I do my own family." For me this sentence coupled with his granddaughter sucky behavior and her parents unwillingness to stop it, highlighted the complete lack of reverence on our society. Nothing is sacred anymore because supposedly everything contains the same value. Everything is okay now, nothing is better than anything else, everyone gets the same ribbon just for taking part. I completely and wholeheartedly disagree with this line of thinking. Not EVERYTHING is okay. There should be some basic respect in our society. If an old lady drops her grocery's, help her out, hold doors for people, say hello, if you are at the grocery store and your done with your cart, give it to someone rather than wait for them to struggle and get a cart unstuck so you put yours back in place. I don't know, maybe I live in a very unfriendly place, but i see that kind of stuff all the time.

I have never ever in my life sat at a movie and watched the entire credits. But I did, and then I sat there awhile longer until the house lights came all the way up. I did this because I was trying to compose myself. I didn't enter snot from wrist to elbow status but i was crying.

I don't know if was the fact that Walt had lung cancer and used racial slurs just like my Cancergramps (whose name is Walt), I dont know if it was the craptasic family he had that reminds me of my mother's siblings, who except for one, treat my grandma like a leper. I don't know if it was because if the police came to my door and said my father was killed in the same situation Walt was, i wouldn't be surprised and would actually be proud. I don't even know if you take out 90 % of the slurs and add in a terrific ton of laughter - Walt is my father, honest to God.

I dont know what it was but damn did this movie move me in a way a movie hasn't in a very long time.

My family is big on catch phrases and "little ditty's" as I call them. Here are a few of my favorites:

1. Wish in one hand and crap in the other- let me know which one fills up first

2. Use that lump 3 feet above your ass for something other than a hat rack

3. Ain't nobody any better than me, but I'm damn sure no better than anyone else

4. Everybody takes a dump the same way

5. You just keep putting on foot in front of the other


Numbers 1, 2, and 5 are all from my father. He has a knack for telling it like it is

Number 3 is CancerGramps, that’s exactly how he lived his life too

Number 4 is my other grandpa, he’s famous for “the flag” where he would waive his hand, kind of like if you were swimming , and say “ah shit” when someone would say something he disagreed with. He’d do this while sitting in his chair, leaning to one side, sucking to get in air, with oxygen going to his nose. Dismissed literally out of hand, our family generally has very little problem telling you how we feel.

Have you ever dreamed of what you would do with 100 million dollars? Buy an island, cure disease, help family..... etc. I am fairly certain i would be willing to spend A LOT of money to make a certain person's daily routine hellish just for a month.

I would require my lawyer (since I have 100 million i am assuming a lawyer comes with it) to deliver no less than 3 letters by courier daily, to the office of the person currently annoying the hell out of me. I would also instruct my lawyer to be certain this person would have to hire a lawyer to answer EVERY single letter.

You may be wondering why I would go that far and what the guys is doing. My company is a subcontractor for this person's company and he is currently annoying the shit out me. One of these people who feels the needs to illustrate that they believe their brain is bigger than mine, actually the jackass wants to prove he is better in every way. He feels he has to prove he can twist the language of the contract to his means..... blah blah blah, he's a bully and was probably that kid in high school who got picked on and never got over it so chooses to be an ass whenever he has power.

It's a pissing contest or as i like to call them - who has the biggest wanker contest. he sends unwarranted letters, accusing me of lying and being an imbecile. The real kicker is I KNOW i am right, I have spoken with a lawyer who says basically, "yeah you would win but it will take many thousands of dollars to do so, does that pencil out for you?" No, it doesn't. I can't spend say 5,000 to get back the 2,500 i never should have had to lay out to begin with. Which is why this guys ANNOYS the hell out me.

The really really real kicker is - I DON'T CARE. I feel like calling him and saying "yes your wanker is HUGE, HUGE. Congrats. No really it's the BIGGEST wanker I have ever seen. Perhaps that's why you are such an ass, having to carry around that HUGE wanker all day every day has to be tiring." because i really don't care about his need to feel big and powerful.

I really could care less about the power contest..... ALL I WANT TO DO is the complete the project and be done with the moron. Yet this dumbass writes stupid letters full of crap for no other reason than he knows it will costs me more money to fight him than to just complete the work. Which takes me back to why i would to send him letters, upon letters, upon letters that he would have to spend money to respond to. And if I had a 100 million, I would be just petty enough to do it. Which is probably not a good thing for my karma, but it really would make me feel good to aggravate this SOB.

I sat with cancer gramps today for quite a bit. He was asleep with i first arrived, but perked up quickly when he realized someone was there to see him.

A few days earlier I had taken him for a walk in his wheelchair and he had told my mom later i was a "shitty driver." Even though his eyes had closed I asked if would like to go for another walk. he scrunched up his nose, pursed his lips and shook his head no. I said "oh wait, you told mom I was a shitty driver" His eyes eased open. He looked at me, eyes so clear, they were the eyes of old. Eyes that are a blue in color like the cavern of a glacier and suddenly there he was..... grandpa, just like he had never left. Like he had never gotten sick, or never had his body ravaged by cancer all over and weeks of the waiting..... waiting...waiting for death to come. He had not slipped away to where ever he goes to wait for death, as he regularly does. He was still with me, and he laughed. Not a lot, just a few bars, a chuckle I suppose. It was the best moment of my day. A simple joke between me and him like we used to and for a few precious moments it eased the pain, his and mine.

Then he said he had to "get to it." Get to what I asked him. He looked at me and said "dying." "Why can't I just die, I wish I could just die." I said I know grandpa and I'm sorry I wish there was something I could do. I know this sounds funny but I wish it for you too." The tears slipped down his face and he nodded. He reached for my hand and I held him as i wiped away his tears and tried to stifle my own.

We spent most of the rest of visit that way - him asking why he couldn't just die and me holding his hand on one of mine and 2 wads of kleenex in the other to wipe away tears. One for him and one for me.

i am a firm believer, either you laugh or you cry, and I tend to be a laugher, even when it's not socially acceptable. So this post might seem mean or hard hearted, I promise you it is not, instead it's almost an homage to cancer gramps, he tended to be a laugher too.

Sunday afternoon I went over to cancergramps and he was chilling on his couch. As a side note, these are the ugliest of couches. They are leather and i believe the color is mauve or dark red velvet set off brilliantly against the mid pink carpet. Grandma loved the pinks and reds. You get the idea. So for a dying man to lay there on a couch of that color, does nothing to brighten any one's day. Maybe the couches would be okay not on pink..... doesn't matter.

We spoke for a bit, his lips heavily chapped and his voice failing. They he started to cry. He said again he was ready to go. I said all I could think to say, because i don't think there are words to express the depth of both my gratitude and grief for him. I told him to go, he is a good man, he has lived a good life and if he wants to go he can go, we love him. He closed his eyes and nodded is head. I asked him if he had seen his late wife, he said no, not yet, but he told "him" he was going at 6. Going where I asked. Then he extended his finger pointed and himself and then up to the ceiling. Heaven, I clarified? He shook his head again and I touched his hand, and I said, "Grandpa I don't know if God takes reservations, but if you've got it worked out, it sounds wonderful to me." He chuckled and said for him, they took a reservation. My Dad asked what cancer gramps and I were laughing about and when I explained, my father laughed as well.

Earlier in the day he had told my father that God sent him back twice. Who the heck gets sent back? and TWICE? He more frequently sees his mother and his late brother now as well. (who decided to use the word "late" for someone who has passed? I always think the person just hasn't shown up yet, I digress.) He has asked to go "home" and when we explain he is home, he says "the house with the stairs." He could mean his childhood home, heaven or another home, we just aren't sure.

He spent the rest of the evening not making too much sense saying it takes "his girls" a while to get going. Or making jokes when my father would tell him of people who have called to say hello, cancer gramps waives and simply says bye! in an almost upbeat manner.

He shot up off the couch about 2 hours later and said he was ready to go. We assumed he meant for bed and my dad maneuvered over to help cancer gramps stand up. He was up and then he was down. He just collapsed, no words at all. I looked at the clock and it said 558, and I thought to myself, "I'll be a son of a ....... if he just died I swear to god."

He had past out and was back within a few seconds. He's teeth had fallen out in the fall and I'm looking at a scene, well I can't really describe it. Here's my grandfather, almost indian style, without his teeth and nothing more than skin and bones really. He's whimpering a bit and unable to move himself towards the couch. Here's my father trying to get cancer gramps on the couch so we can get the wheel chair in a place where he can get to it easily. Here I am standing with the chair, feeling absolutely helpless holding the wheelchair, looking at his teeth on the ground. And I thought to myself, this blows goat ass. Plain and simple, blows goat ass. No one should be reduced to this. No one.

We got him settled in his bedroom and I gave him a kiss, and told him I loved him. He said "if I don't see you tomorrow, you're my girl."

My Dad and I stood outside a bit after grandpa had fallen asleep and my usually stoic father, a man i have never seen actually have a tear on his face, had a few slowing making their way down. He hugged me for another unusual minute or so, and I asked how he was keeping it together. He said some of the wisest words ever spoken, "you just keep putting one foot in front of the other. It's not easy, but it's all part of life and it goes on."

I prayed on the way home through my tears and I said "I don't believe I know more than you but.......God........ I don't know if you sent him back twice, but if you did, next time you see him, if you can let him in, I'd really appreciate it, I'll take one for the team if necessary, but next time you see him, if you could let him in."

Today is Tuesday and he's still here, waiting for his table in Heaven.

**********Edited************
Is this something we the people really care about? I personally don't care if he decides to have an ostrich, a camel, an iguana or a ferret for a pet.

WE HAVE BIGGER WORRIES THAN A PET!!!

And while I am at it, I am hearing the government wants to send out another round of stimulus checks (500 a person, 1000 a family). Keep the friggin money!!! Not that either sum is insignificant on its' own, however when viewed in the larger scope of our economy's troubles it is nothing. People need a way to refi a mortgage they are upside down on, people need jobs, not 500 or 1000 bucks.

And another thing, this business about building roads and bridges..... I'm in construction, and let me tell you, roads and bridges are not job creating. They are equipment heavy, but not labor heavy. They need to build buildings that require interior finishes and furnishings.

Plus, where the heck did all the bailout money go? I think we should start a movement and every company who received bailout money and then gave out bonuses should have to return the bailout money immediately. If you can afford to give people bonuses you didn't really need the money to begin with, and if you used bailout money for bonuses that explains why your company is in the crapper!!! You can't give what you don't have.

There must be some accountability here!!! I mean come on the F on....... These people (the government) work for us and yet we do nothing to hold them accountable, they have handed out billons of dollars, BILLONS, with no appreciable difference in our economy. We need a full accounting, what goes in - all taxes and then what goes out.

Something has to give in this country. Either people are going to be willing to give up 50% or more of their income, or we start letting companies that are unprofitable fail. I for one vote for unprofitable companies failing. Yes, in the short term it will have a great cost, increase unemployment, foreclosures etc, however the recovery will happen a lot quicker as those unprofitable companies fail and/or are bought out, opening back up the market, which means jobs will return as will profits. Everyone needs a bit of help some of the time, but not everyone needs help all of the time unless you are disabled.

And the other little piece of info that the government doesn't want to tell you- big corporations just pass taxes onto the consumer, they do not absorb those taxes. The windfall oil tax - yeah that would find it's way to your pocket just like to government making, I believe, 18 cents a gallon in taxes on gas. Historically the only way to grow an economy is to reduce taxes.

It's beginning to get very tricky.

Very Tricky.

i thought i would be stronger when it came down to this time in my granpda's dying. I walked in to his house this evening and was shocked how he had declined since Monday. He lays propped up on pillows on the couch and stares at the ceiling mostly. He's in absolutely no pain (THANK YOU GOD) and is very confused most of the time. He speaks of seeing his mother, and wanting to go to her. My father has told him if he wants to go it's okay to go. I firmly believe those who have gone before you head south for just a bit to ease your northward journey. So some may say it's the pain meds, or the cancer, or the death standing by his side; but for it's his mother waiting to be the angel who will carry him across.


We were speaking and somehow pedicures came up and I asked him if he ever thought would have started getting pedicures at 80 some odd years old and he responded by saying no, but he never thought he'd be this sick either. I guess life is full of the unexpected. He drifted off into the quite stillness that racks his life while the cancer ravages him.


I had to leave the house, I couldn't hold it together for one more minute. I didn't want to upset grandpa or buddah boy so I went out front and cried, big old, heavy, sorrowful, drowning tears.


My Mom came out and hugged me, reminded me he isn't in pain and has been the only she has ever known who says he did everything he wanted whenever he wanted. And those are good things. Very good things. But my grandpa is dying and that wounds my heart. Wounds me in a way i wasn't when my 2 other grandparents passed. Palpably wounds me. Wounds in a manner I am unsure will heal with time, if at all.


I cried the entire way home, the hyperventilating, hiccuping, snot dripping, gawd awful kind of crying. My grandpa is dying and there is nothing anyone can do to make that better or easier for him and that devastates me. I suppose I am crying because I will lose him, because it aches, because the world will lose a kind of man we need more of, and because I can do nothing to stop any of from happening.


Cancer sucks.

2008, so long, farewell and get your big ugly ass out of here.

2009, may you usher in hope and change and a renewed faith.

That's the noise I made earlier. It was me sucking in air while trying not to scream. I had hit my toe against the block of wood at the base of our leather couch, that I'm not a fan of by the way, and my last two toes felt like they were on fire and splayed out at an odd angle. My husband and baddog came running.

I did not cry and surprisingly i didn't even cuss. I just stood, bet over the couch sucking in air. I said I was fine and hubby and baddog returned to their food. I sat down and removed my sock to asses the damage. It looked ok, no toe horribly angled out (i broke a toe when I was younger and had to snap it back into place), no blood. So i got up, headed to the other room, and that's when I felt it, air on my toe, and air on my toe i a way that wasn't good. "Babe, i see blood," I said to hubby. "HUH?"

I threw my foot up on the kitchen sink (extremely sanitary i know) and made hubby look at it. "Oh man you tore off the top of the toe, damn!" WHAT!! like do i need stitches tore it off? "Um, naw I think your good, you just tore off the top of the toe skin and bent the nail back off over half way down. " I look at it and can see the flap of skin hanging off. I said "get me some clippers and I'll cut it off." he said "really?", well yeah, i can't stand having the skin hang there cause every time i walk the skin gets pulled up on the other toe and hurts worse. So i cut off the skin and realized at that point an open weeping wound on my foot might not be the best idea.

My hubby keeps saying "damn babe that has to hurt really bad, just being open and raw like that and the the nail bent back, seriously that has to hurt." Thanks for the reminder mr marine corps.

I hobble into the bathroom and try to find a bandage that would work. I find some gauze and ask hubby where he put the sterile tape he was using when he left the skin on his calf and knee attached to a motorcycle exhaust pipe. "oh i don't know but i've got some electrical tape." Really electrical tape? Come on, seriously? "Yeah it should work."

"Do you think you broke it?" he asks as I'm sitting down to tape the thing up. Feels like it. " let's go get it x rayed" I said to him your people would get it x rayed, my people says it's a toe, we don't x ray toes. Thankfully, he was putting the gauze in place and taping it because at this point the throbbing and pain has set in, unfortunately that caused me to go to tears, because it hurt like a toe whose skin had been removed and met the wood block at the base of a couch I am not particularly fond of. He said again, "what if you broke it?" My people don't get toes x rayed. "maybe your people are wrong, ever thought of that?"

I didn't respond, but no I hadn't thought of it.