1. I met J's family this past weekend.
See, I'm one of those people that is always at my parent's house (except for lately). A week in which I see my folks once or twice is rare, I usually see them more than that (and seeing as how my television isn't hooked up and it's baseball season I imagine I'll be there quite a bit more). J isn't that way with her family, and I have really had to try to not feel like she's avoiding them so that she wouldn't have to tell them about me, which I don't think was totally the case. They all knew *about* me, but hadn't met me before (with the exception of her brother, whom I've met briefly) and finally, last week, J's grandma text messaged her with a dinner invite (that I believe was along the lines of 'where the heck have you been, we haven't seen you in ages') so, we went.
I was super-nervous, especially for someone that has been bitching about meeting this family of hers, and wanted to just not go, but I went anyway. Dinner was at her grandma's house, and we got there and J introduced me to her (and she hugged me?!?!), and then introduced me to her mom as well. The four of us ate dinner, the three of them held most of the conversation, until the inevitable, "So, Doll, what do you do?" from her grandma. So, even though I wanted to lie and just tell them I was a teacher or something, I was honest and said I was a mortician, and grandma kinda freaked out. Not super-freaked, but freaked a little. Luckily though, when people freak out about it (as most people do), they don't have a bunch of questions (not that I don't LOVE the questions, but at dinner the first time I meet my girlfriend's family, I'drathernot,thankyou). So, the subject was quickly changed and dinner was finished. J's brother showed up a bit later, as did her dad (she, her mother and I were now playing Uno), and sat to eat dinner with us while we played. They were all quite nice (grandma went to watch Jeopardy so as not to annoy J with her questions all night) and the evening went well. J looks like her dad. And her mom added me as a friend on facebook.
2. I slept super-well last night, and today I feel quite a bit more refreshed than I have in a while. It's great.
3. I'm wearing some 5 inch heels today.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
1. I met J's family this past weekend.
Friday, April 23, 2010
I know I've mentioned before that some people decide to pre-plan their funeral services, and that it insures that their wishes are followed after they die. Well, we had a death this week for a woman who had done just that, and pre-planned a funeral service in the chapel, followed by burial in a cemetery here. She picked out everything, and prepaid for it all, so when she died we got started arranging for everything and found out she has no family. Apparently the state (or county or whatever) appointed a public guardian to her to help take care of her (find a nursing home, figure out medical care, take care of finances, etc.) since her husband died 20 years ago and she had no other family. Normally in that sort of case the public guardian will just have the remains cremated and then buried somewhere, using any funds that the deceased has left, but in her case it was all taken care of, so the guardian let us take care of it all.
Anyway, we knew no one was going to come to the service. It seems sad to think that, and I suppose it is, but all of us were kind of excited that we would get to be the attendees for the service. Our very own Buck was the officiate, and Monica, Tank and I sat in the first pew of the chapel. Boss sat in the back (he was the only one that knew the deceased at all), and Big Bird popped her head in a few times. The service lasted about 25 minutes, and at the end Buck and Buffy sang Amazing Grace a cappella, and it was beautiful. We were all given a chance to say a few words about the woman that had died, and although we didn't know her we said what was on out hearts. It was really a wonderful service, and a great end to my week.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
I blogged a while back about that guy making his own funeral arrangements because he was dying, remember? Well, he isn’t dead yet. Actually, I’ve wanted to post about him not being dead yet but have thought that I didn’t want to jinx him by doing so (I’m a bit terrified that I am going to come into work tomorrow and he will have died). Anyway, in true me fashion, I’m going to blog about *my* feelings and *my* thoughts about this man, instead of blogging about what his immanent death might be doing to *his* thoughts and feelings, as I don’t know him, nor do I think it would be appropriate to ask him if I did.
The hospital he told me he’d be at is just up the street. I can see it through the window here at my desk. It’s the hospital where I was born, and it is the hospital in which many people die, including, at some future date, my pre-arrangement leukemia man. In the post I mentioned wanting to visit him in the hospital, he was supposed to check himself in sometime in early February, and I still want to. I don’t think I want to talk to him, just maybe go poke my head in while he’s asleep, or ask a nurse if there’s anything I can get him that he might need (maybe some delicious French fries, I know that I’d want some if I were stuck, dying in a hospital), just so I can see him alive again. I’m not sure why, but I just don’t want the next time I see him to be when he’s dead. I want to know when his daughter turns 18. What if he doesn’t make it (he didn’t think he would)? What if he does? How will I know? I have instructions to not call her when he dies, a friend of his will tell her, so I don’t have a way of knowing. Why does it bother me so much? Argh. I’m so confused…
Monday, April 19, 2010
I like wearing skirts. I even like wearing dresses. Actually, i love both, and most of the summer I am in dresses instead of pants (never shorts, those are awful). The thing is though, being required to not wear pants at work has made me re-think my dress-loving sense of style. Weird, yes. Where am I going with this? I'll tell you.
I have been bitching a bit lately about this "no pants at work" policy (gotta love old-fashioned managers), and I've come to realize that it isn't the requirement to wear skirt suits, but the requirement to wear pantyhose that goes along with it. They really are awful things, and I'm starting to really hate summer because of them (christ almighty, they're warm). And through all my complaining I forgot something: I look good in my skirt suits.
See, i was out to lunch a couple of weeks ago on a Saturday, and i ran into a guy I recognized from a funeral (I had been the director for his mother's service about a year ago, and his dad's about 5 months ago). I went up to him and said hi, he was with a friend of his and introduced me, and he gave me a hug and kiss. He told me I look different, but good, in my normal clothes (jeans and a long sleeve shirt), and turned to his buddy and said "you should see this woman in one of her suits. With looks like that not one of us could pay attention to the first ten minutes of Mass." I was flattered, and I told him thanks, and he gave me his business card, telling me I should call him if I ever needed anything.
So, it turns out the skirt suits aren't that bad, I mean, at least I look decent...
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Monica got flowers.
I am totally jealous.
See, I'm not really the type that gives a shit about getting flowers (well, not that much of a shit anyway), and I'm definitely not jealous of getting red roses (yep, Monica got red. fucking. roses.), as I'm not a rose person, but she got them from a family she did the services for, and that makes me jealous. I couldn't have cared less if they had been from her man (cuz he's totally unworthy of her, and all other women), but from a family? Because they were grateful? And with a card that reads "Thanks for the wonderful job you did???" You would be jealous, too. I deserve flowers, damn it. I'm a fucking charming embalmer. People love me...don't they??
So, here I sit flowerless and jealous. Maybe I'll steal them...
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The title of this post was the first thing the boss said to me this morning when I saw him at work, and without knowing what it was I did last night, it sounds pretty juicy...
Yesterday, by the end of the day we had 9 new cases. I already had two families scheduled to come in today, one at 10 and one at 1130. Pretty close together, and I was feeling a bit of pressure knowing how hectic today would be, not counting whatever cases died overnight. Anyway, the boss comes in yesterday around 430:
Boss: Doll! It's been a long day! Boys night out tonight. After work. (Lists the guys that are gonna be there)
Me: *laughs* I'm one of the boys??
Boss: Yes, Doll, one of the guys in particular made sure you were notified.
Me: Is your Sugar Lips gonna be there?
Boss: Definitely not. No girls allowed. And no telling the women, Doll. It's a secret boys night. We're going to that new beer spot in town.
Me: *confused* But I'm not a boy. I don't even look like a boy. *starting to panic* BOSS! DO I LOOK LIKE A BOY???
Boss: *chuckle* You don't look like a boy. *another chuckle* But the boys think you are one of us, you are more vulgar than we are, so you're an honorary boy. And you can hold your beer. We like that.
Me: *slightly embarrassed* That's sweet boss. I have Clem tonight though.
Boss: You need a night out, kiddo. Bring her with you.
Me: What about J? It sounds like girlfriends are forbidden from this boys night out.
Boss: She's good to go. The old guys want to meet her anyway.
Me: So lemme get this straight, Boss. You are having a boys night out at a pub and you are inviting me, my daughter, and my girlfriend?
Boss:*laughing* You coming or not, Doll?
Me: We'll be there... Wait! are the Giants gonna be on???
Boss: You're too much, kiddo.
So, we went out and had a great time. And apparently so did the boys.
And I'm super swamped. The family I met with at 10 lasted til 12, so Monica had to meet with the 1130 which sucks because she had just come in from a funeral Mass about 10 minutes prior, and as I was finishing up with the 10 o'clock we got a new case that was supposed to be here at 2 and still hasn't called or showed up. Jane is pissed because I am busy with four hundred pounds of paperwork and families that don't show up, so I cant work in the prep room and she's got more bodies than she can handle in an 8 hour work day.
Fuck. At least I got to have a couple of beers last night.
Monday, April 12, 2010
She's young. Five years younger than I am. She is breathtaking. She has short brown hair and eyes the color of dark honey. She has freckles all over. Her smile is contagious and she laughs freely. She takes hours getting ready before we go somewhere, but is the most beautiful when she wakes up in the morning. She's a great dancer. She has a perfect heart and a beautiful soul. She is strong and soft and smart and caring and beautiful.
We have fun together and it makes me wonder how come I had to miss out on this kind of thing for so long. And then I laugh at myself, thinking, "if I had met her when I was 20 she would have been 15" and it kinda grosses me out, LoL. We have an amazing friendship, one like no other I have had. Doing nothing with her feels like having it all.
Sometimes her love overwhelms me to the point of tears. I've never felt more at peace.
Posted by Doll Face at 2:25 PM
How did you meet the person you had an affair with? Male or Female? And how did your husband find out? Duration?
I met her at church. She's the girl I've blogged about before. It's kind of strange, the whole situation, I mean, she's a girl which is a bit different, and I met her at church, which isn't really the best place to meet someone that you end up having an affair with, etc.
The hubby found out because the girl I was having the affair with told someone at church, and that person told the pastor, who eventually told my husband. I know I probably should have been the one to tell him, but I couldn't. I tried a few times before anyone even found out (although I am sure he knew anyway), and just couldn't bring myself to say it. I was a total chicken about it, partly because I was scared of what he would say/do (not that I think he would have hit me or something like that, but I knew he would make me leave and I didn't want to leave my daughter), and partly because for as much as I wanted out of the relationship, I still cared and didn't want to hurt him. Anyway, it was a bit of a mess for a while, as you know I lived with my parents and he and I aren't together any longer.
I haven't known her for long, but she and I are still together. We are having a blast, and I feel lucky, you know? I feel loved.
Every now and then it's hard though, my relationship with my family is strained, and I recognize it's my fault. My daughter stays with me in my new place every other night, and she seems to be doing okay. It's especially hard when she asks why I don't love her daddy any more, and I try to tell her that I do love him, I just don't want to live with him. How do you tell that to a child? I wonder if I've screwed up everything for her future. But I also wondered that when I was with her dad. I mean, I don't want to model a mediocre marriage to her, but I also don't want her to have this broken home.
It's also hard because J (my girlfriend) and I have left our church. This is the church that I have considered "home" since I was 14. A lot of the people there I have known since I was a child. J had been going there for about 2 years, and her best friend is no longer talking to her. We've gone to another church a few times, but they aren't accepting of our lifestyle any more than our old church, so we know we can't stay there either.
Anyway, that's the story.
Friday, April 2, 2010
So, I'm live blogging a funeral right now. It's in our chapel, and we are heading out to the cemetery in a bit. Tank and Opie and I are all working this service, and they are funny about certian things, one of which is women. Particularly women at funerals.
See, there's this rule about funerals: there is always one, some woman, at every service, that is a little too cute and a lot too sexy to be at a funeral. Don't get me wrong, it's quite amusing (Tank goes a bit ape-shit), but it's also a little embarassing as well. I mean, you kinda can't help but stare, and we (the funeral staff) always tell each other who to look for. Like with this gal (whom i thought was about 17 until i found out how old she really was), as soon as she came in Tank comes up to me and says. "Foyer, green top, black skirt and HEELS!" So I go out there and yep, she's a little hottie, and i immediately feel a bit dirty and tell Tank he's in trouble, what with how young she is. And to make matters worse she had this flirty "yeah, I know I'm trouble" look on her face.
So, i end up being the one to take the family to the cemetery in the limo, and she sat in the center seat of the back row, right in my line of vision in the rear view mirror. She was kinda making me nervous, and it was hard to look in the rear view without thinking that she would think I was staring at her, so I would quickly look away. It was all a bit amusing (and very embarrassing) and I was glad to be out of the car when we got to the graveside.
On the way back it was the same, but she was talkative, and I swear she winked at me in the mirror. Wtf, right? Anyway, i laughed this nervous laugh, and looked away and didn't look again the rest of the trip.