Fluid Pusher

hi

2011-02-21T10:17:00.001-08:00

Okay, from January 1, 2011 to Feb 21, 2011 we have had 211 cases. Now, two a day might not deem like that big of a deal, but let me tell you, I am fucking swamped at work. I still don’t have a computer or internet at home, and the boss is really starting to monitor internet use at work. All of that combined with me not knowing what to really write about and being in and out of depressive moods from lack of contact with friends that I used to talk to non-stop, lack of any sort of working relationship with my family, and fear about how to pay bills (at all, if not on time) has made for shitty blogging. I know I’ve said I’m sorry for it all before, so I won’t bother you with what will undoubtedly seem like a meaningless apology. And, honestly, it sounds a lot worse than it all is, I’m really not that depressed, but it just seems overwhelming at times, today being one of them.

So, work has been busy, although not very interesting. I had my first ever suicide due to being gay and not being able to deal with the way they were treated. His parents were a wreck, they knew why he did it. And it wasn’t just that, or just them, but still, it’s hard to not play the “what could I have done differently” game. He was young. Younger than I.

Clem is doing well, she is growing like a weed and as sassy as ever. She dances all around, all the time, and is more like a teen than a 4 year old. I just about cried the other day, realizing that I now have to shop in the big girls section for her clothes instead of in the baby/toddler section.

J and I are doing well. I am thankful daily for having her around, and I constantly wonder what it is that keeps her there. I’m a complete nut ball, but she seems to be okay with that. Her family is good to me and to Clem, her dad even got me a Valentine’s day stuffed animal. Her grandma invites us over for dinner a lot, and is generous, I complimented her on a beautiful gold heart-link bracelet she was wearing and she took it off and gave it to me. She offered to make me dinner for my birthday this Saturday, but I had to decline since my family wants to do it then (although J isn’t invited).

Anyway, that’s really about it.

Are you ever gonna post again?

2011-01-07T16:40:00.001-08:00

See, here's the deal: When I have something really great to post, I'm way too busy to sit at a computer (and I don't have internet at home), and when I seem to have time I use all that up by worrying about custody of my daughter, money, and my now broken family ties. I think I'm in a super slump, and I apologize.

Ask me anything

I was on facebook flailing on Cooks Source Magazine like everyone else on the planet tonight and I ran across the term Fluid Pusher which upon doing a google search, I fould your page... And yet I still do not know what this term means.

2010-11-16T16:52:00.001-08:00

Okay, forgive me for not knowing, but I have no clue what a Cooks Source Magazine is.

A fluid pusher, however, I do know about, and you will find my description of one in my profile, off to the right of this page.

Ask me anything

Question from roommates

2010-11-16T16:36:00.000-08:00

My roommate turns to me, knowing that I read your blog religiously, and asked me what happens the organs they remove during the autopsy? Do they just put them back in and stitch the person up, or dispose of them? Or you stitch up the autopsy incisions? I told her I didn't know, but would pose the questions to you.

The organs, and the brain (which is also removed during a complete autopsy), are, after their examination, usually put into a plastic bio hazard bag, placed back into the thoracic cavity, the severed ribs placed on top of that, and the autopsy incision sewed back up. When the case arrives to the mortuary and embalming has been approved by the family, the embalmer opens the cavity, takes out the ribs and the bag, opens the bag and pours high index (strong) embalming fluid in it (called cavity fluid), and closes the bag again so it can "marinate" (man, we use a TON of food references in the prep room that I never really paid attention to). After the rest of the body is embalmed the viscera is taken out of the bag and put into another bag just like it, put back into the cavity, ribs placed on top, and the incision is stitched up again. That's it!

I learned something today

2010-11-16T16:10:00.001-08:00

Tumors don't burn up in the cremation process.

Hey Doll Face..I have a question for you. As my roommate and I were watching Grey's Anatomy this evening, a dr. was working on an autopsy and removing what seemed to be the intestines. My roommate turns to me, knowing that I read your blog religiously,

2010-11-05T16:51:00.001-07:00

So, that's as much of the question that it gave me... Please put the rest in the comments?

Ask me anything

Conversations with my child

2010-10-06T16:54:00.000-07:00

Me: So, Clem, we really need to decide what you want to be for Halloween.
Clem: I want to be the same butterfly as last year.
Me: No. It is much too holy of a day for you to repeat what you were before.
Clem: Okay, I have to think about it.
*thinks*
Clem: Okay, mom, I know…I want to be Lady Gaga.
Me: ?
*pause*
Me: Um, you’re 3, Clem, you realize that you will only have like 3 of her outfits as possible choices, right?
Clem: That’s fine, mom. I’ll just pick one of those three.
Me: Great.

So, yesterday I ordered 5 dozen clear plastic orb ornaments online. Can you guess which Gaga she wants to be?

Disinterments

2010-10-01T14:29:00.001-07:00

So, I had a disinterment this week. A family wanted their mother shipped to another state after having been buried here for 15 years. Luckily, her casket is metal, and she had been buried in a full vault, not just a liner (I suppose you'll need a vocab lesson for those), but not luckily the casket was quite rusty, and she's kinda gross looking I'm sure. But you know what is the best part? This particular cemetery didn't make me climb in the hole to inspect everything first. Nope, they just had me show up after getting her out of the ground, helped me put her in the car, and that was that.

See, thus is how it usually happens: I get to the cemetery when they are digging the hole and once they hit the vault they take off the lid and tell me to go on in to make sure the casket is in good enough shape for them to lift out. I have to open it to make sure the bottom won't fall out either. It smells. I gag profusely while the cemetery guys watch. I have to swallow my own puke. It. Is. Gross. The sit I wore that day has to be thrown away, not even the dry cleaner can get the smell off. My hair smells for days. My skin feels disgusting. The odor is in my noise hairs and I can't get it out. It's really bad.

So, this week's disinterment? Cake walk.

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How big are your tits?

2010-09-29T17:09:00.001-07:00

LOL. Really? How big are yours?

34 B/C. Right in the middle of those two.

But why would you ask? Will you tell me what that says about me? I am baffled and amused at the same time.

Ask me anything

He died, and somehow I thought maybe he wouldn't

2010-09-29T17:06:00.000-07:00

Shit, I'm busy. Actually, the whole office is busy.

So, this past weekend the guy died that I talked about a couple of times before. He looks different now than I remember him.

It's a strange thing, families, and how different they are. I met with a brother and sister yesterday who had lost their mother (I hate that term "lost their ____"), and they got along like they were the best friends in the world. But then there's people like the family in the chapel now, who made us create fucking seating arrangements, complete with names on the pews, just because they didn't want some people sitting with others. And these are close family members, folks. What is going on? I get so frustrated by it. They are all experiencing the same thing, why can't that bond them? Whatever.

I'm tired.

Quickie

2010-09-27T16:49:00.000-07:00

I was just thinking today about this thing that happened last week.

I had to change my cell phone number because someone (some lady) called (okay, only twice (that I know of)), and harassed me.

Convo one:
Me:Hello?
Bitch: Fucking dyke! Your daughter is going to hate you! Just like everyone else hates you!
Me:wha?
*click*

Convo two:
Me: Hello?
Bitch: Burn in hell, dyke!
*click*

Or something like that. Anyway, the phone number I have had for 8 years is no longer mine. I actually sobbed to the cell phone gal (bless her heart) about it all.

And, before you ask, it was a blocked number (I have to answer, what if it was a family I'm doing services for?), and I don't recognize the number. And, really, I just want sympathy...

Thursday case update!

2010-09-23T15:58:00.000-07:00

I don’t have any gross/fix-it cases currently, but I do have a couple of families right now that remind me why I love my job. Here’s one of them:

The arrangement started with a gal, maybe 45 0r 50, who came in about a month ago and got cremation prices from Monica, and I ended up talking with her a bit too. She said that her dad wasn’t doing too well and that she was going to get prices and information for her mother to fill out, so that when dad died we would have what we need. So, she took the paperwork and I didn’t see her until this past Monday when she, her partner, and her mother came in. They explained to me that dad had improved a bit in the last month, but had declined greatly this past weekend, and they knew he would die soon. So, I went over all the necessary paperwork with his wife, and we had a nice (although teary) meeting, and I gave them my cell phone number, just in case they had questions or he died and I wasn't on call, and they left. Tuesday, at about 5:30, I received a call from the daughter saying he had died an hour ago, and she was sobbing so heavily I had a hard time understanding her words. I knew though, he must be dead, and after a minute or two she calmed down enough to give me the details. I asked her to call me if anything came up between then and the next afternoon when they were to come in to finalize everything, and told her that I was sorry about her father dying. She was very grateful.

The next day we met together again, and I did my best to make them laugh, however briefly, and shortly into the arrangement I could tell they were feeling much more at ease. We chatted about the deceased’s life a bit, and I got to know them better. After all the paperwork was done I folded his veteran’s flag for them, and his wife cried again, and after everyone hugged me, they left. I mailed out a nice laminated bookmark with some of his information on it to his wife today, with a note, and I hope she likes it.

Batesville Casket Company

2010-09-22T16:13:00.000-07:00

I think this one was Monday's post

One of the giants in funeral service products is Batesville Casket Company. They are run by Hillenbrand Industries, which own a shit ton of stuff (it seems) that is related to funeral service. I would bet that anyone working in the death industry knows Batesville, and most funeral homes in America probably have some sort of casket or urn on their show floor.

They’ve been around a long time, and as most of the caskets we carry, and the funeral homes that have employed me in the past carried, are Batesville caskets. In mortuary school we watch videos on how caskets are made, and those videos were shot at the Batesville plant (probably) in Batesville, Indiana. The company even offers employees of funeral homes that carry their products an all-expense paid trip to see their Indiana plant, and apparently it’s awesome (my ex has been twice).

They also make urns, and googling Batesville Urn or Batesville Casket will probably show you a wide range of what they make. They are known for being higher-end, and therefore more expensive, but all of their products are mass produced, so they aren’t as expensive as places (or people) that offer one-of-a-kind or handmade funeral products.

Their website is here, although, for a company that is so large, it’s really crap.

New friends

2010-09-15T21:23:00.000-07:00

So, I am finally feeling a bit better today. I am tired, mostly tired of coughing, but I finally don't have a headache the size of Alaska.

Wednesday, right? So that means funeral services.

I haven't worked any really fascinating services lately, but I have worked some services that have ended by starting a new friendship or two.

One, a service for a woman in her late 50s (I think), her daughter was the one to make arrangements, along with her grandma (the mother of the deceased), and everything went really well. So well, in fact, that the daughter invited me (the service was on a Saturday), along with my J and Clem, to meet up with them (she and her hubby, her dad, grandma, some aunts , uncles and a few friends) for breakfast and bloody marys the next morning, so we went. We had a blast. They loved Clem, and weren't at all odded out by my having a girlfriend. It was great. So great, in fact, that they called a few weeks later when they were back in town (the daughter and her husband) to do it again. It really was wonderful. We went to the same Basque place, had an awesome breakfast (served with wine, ???), and they taught Clem how to say she's from the area code that we live in. Hilarious.

I'm not really sure why, but I wanted to share that one with you. Maybe I needed a little pick-me-up this week.

Yuck

2010-09-09T15:42:00.001-07:00

I am so sick. If I die of this horrid cold make sure they drag my body to the next county over so the ME doesn't see me naked.

Glee, party of three

2010-09-07T21:12:00.000-07:00

Ha!! I'm not sticking to my own schedule. Today should be embalming, and I started an embalming post, but I had a quirky work episode.

So, I'm sitting here watching Glee reruns with J, and we have a guest.

A man died. I am working with his brother, who is in charge of his arrangements, and getting everything together for his cremation. He had a pre-arrangement, so it makes it a lot easier (do it! it really does make it easier, even if you don't pre-pay), and in his pre-arrangement he stated that I am to go to his home and retrieve his wife's cremated remains and put his remains in the urn with hers.

So, today, after work, before I picked up Clem, I went to the man's home. I took the urn, put it in the car (buckled) and was on my way. I got Clem and was home shortly after. When I got home I took Mrs. Dead Husband out of the car (I couldn't just leave her there overnight, what if it was cold...what if the car got broken into...what if the world ends tonight and she's alone?), took her inside, and sat her on the couch. I found J in the kitchen, putting away the dishes I had washed last night, and I said hi. Shortly after she came in the living room.

J: What's this?
me: Oh, thats Mrs. Dead Husband.
J: ???
Me: [I explain]
J: What, you want her to watch tv with us?
Me: Well...
J: Um, can she sit on the floor?
Me: Sure (moving her to the floor).
J: Really? You're putting her there so she can watch tv still?
Me: Uh, yeah (OBVIOUSLY!!!!!)

So, she's here, right with me. And I hope she liked show tunes.

Schedule

2010-09-03T13:08:00.001-07:00

Okay, so, I need some structure. I have a lot to post and have been very disorganized lately and have been neglectful. I have also not had internet at home, and I don’t want to get caught blogging at work, but now I have internet at home, yay!

*Sorry!*

So, this is the posting topic schedule I would like to attempt to keep (at least half of the time):

Monday- Some sort of mortuary-related company profile
Tuesday- Embalming stuff
Wednesday- Stuff about funeral services
Thursday- Update on the cases I am working on
Friday- Personal, unless you don’t want me to include that

Got anything to say?

Next on my list...

2010-08-23T08:53:00.001-07:00

The thing that sucks about knowing what needs to be done is that every minute you aren’t doing it you feel like a bit of a failure. This is going to be a downer post. Sorry

I can’t really see any way to not need to get a second job. This single parent thing is killing me. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy in a way I’ve never been before, but I’m also very aware of how much money I don’t have, and very aware how little I had to worry about money before. I cant remember ever worrying about money in my life, not even in college when all I had was a part time job, I always knew everything would get paid, and it hasn’t even really been until this week that I started to actively worry about it. Last night was the deal breaker for me; I woke up in the middle of the night and just thought and thought about it. I couldn’t go back to sleep (which has left me exhausted this morning), and realized that a second job is the only solution, as I have bills that I already can’t pay, let alone the ones next month that will add to the ones this month, which added to the ones last month, which fucking sucks. Not only do I not want to work that many hours in a day, just thinking about my daughter and how much I don’t want to be away from her any more than I already have to makes me cry. I worry that she wont ever understand why I had to do it, take her time with me away, and just knowing that I cant get that time back is killing me. I feel like I’ve failed. Where does one even look for a second job? I don’t have a clue. And where does one find child care for nighttime? I doubt that will be easy. Fuck, this is so hard.

Aspiration

2010-07-23T12:25:00.000-07:00

So, my friend, Miss Anne and I were chatting it up today, and she had some questions, so, with her permission I'm posting some of our convo:

*Mrs.A* says:

how's the deads

any good ones?

Doll says:

yep

*Mrs.A* says:

omg.

you've been holding out!

BITCH!

Doll says:

I had a tough reconstruction yesterday

LOL

I know!

*Mrs.A* says:

what happened?

Doll says:

13 year old

car accident

her mom died too

but I havent done her face yet

*Mrs.A* says:

omg

sadness

Doll says:

yes

*Mrs.A* says:

a 13 yr old ???

Doll says:

yes, and her sister is still in critical at a hospital here

eek!

*Mrs.A* says:

wtf.

is it bad?

Doll says:

yes

*Mrs.A* says:

like un recognizable?

Doll says:

no, but the girl took a lot of work

but i got to train my coworker a bit on it

so that was great

*Mrs.A* says:

wow. girl i dont know how you do it

do you ever get "scared" of the people?

Doll says:

lol

*Mrs.A* says:

i think the eyes being open would freak me out

Doll says:

[the other embalmer] was working on the girl and emailed me a "before" photo of a huge gash on her hand

that was kinda gross

but not scary

*Mrs.A* says:

[cute pet name for my other embalmer]???

Doll says:

lol, thats what i call her, its a pet name

Doll says:

(I explain how I came up with the nickname for her)

*Mrs.A* says:

(i love the nickname)

omg

best

tell me this

if people have gashes, or jacked up faces... (holes, etc)

and you try to embalm

doesn't the fluid come out?

Doll says:

yes!

but you just let it

so that the rest of everything gets fluid

*Mrs.A* says:

the vag/buttplug are almost too much to think about!

Doll says:

i knoW!

but its WAY better than the old way of doing it

*Mrs.A* says:

cotton?

Doll says:

sewing it shut

*Mrs.A* says:

omg

Doll says:

*VOMIT*

*Mrs.A* says:

eeek.

i can plan on a buttplug at death.

Doll says:

most likely you wont need one

*Mrs.A* says:

Doll says:

most people dont

*Mrs.A* says:

ohhh

only if you have a flappy butt

LOL.

Doll says:

when i aspirate their guts most stuff gets sucked out

LOL

*Mrs.A* says:

how do you aspirate?

Doll says:

you use a trocar

ill take a photo in a bit and email it to you

*Mrs.A* says:

(vacuum?)

Doll says:

sorta

*Mrs.A* says:

where do you poke?

Doll says:

near the belly button

lol

its so funny how people have NO CLUE

*Mrs.A* says:

i know

WHY do you think i'm OBSESSED?

/curious

Doll says:

because youre NUTS

lol

*Mrs.A* says:

but i also am kinda scared of the deads

i dont wanna see anyones eyes

Doll says:

you just shut them, you know

or put a towel over their face like you do with their private parts

*Mrs.A* says:

ever have one "gone"

Doll says:

what do you mean?

*Mrs.A* says:

like popped out

or poked out

or missing

Doll says:

ive seen a glass eye a time or two

and one guy had part of his face gone including one eye because of face cancer

*Mrs.A* says:

wow.

how do you fix that?

Doll says:

just like fixing an auto accident

*Mrs.A* says:

lol

Doll says:

lol?

*Mrs.A* says:

like just throw in a muffler, some oil, a wrench and call it good

lol.

(that's what came to mind)

then i was like ....ohh... like facial reconstruction.

(sorry)

Doll says:

LOL

*Mrs.A* says:

i need to jobshadow for a week

*Mrs.A* says:

seriously.

Doll says:

thats funny!!

you do!!

*Mrs.A* says:

omg they wouldn't let me watch anything there tho would they?

Doll says:

they sooooo would!

my boss LOVES hot chicks

so you could totally

*Mrs.A* says:

lol right.

So, a trocar looks like this:

(source)
The three small, pointy objects you see are the tips of the trocars and are sharp. The tip is screwed on before the trocar is used, and comes off to aid in cleaning, as well as to replace when it becomes dull. The two trocars at the top of the photo are used for regular aspiration of the deceased. The end with the handle gets attached to a hose and the hose is attached to a bibb (is that the right word?) that sucks air in when the faucet is turned on (see photo below). Aynway, we use the trocar to puncture the viscera (see other picture) and suck out the remaining body fluids, then pour in some strong embalming fluid to harden and sanitize the trunk of the body.

and is inserted (usually) here:

(source)

Weekend

2010-06-28T12:49:00.000-07:00

Last week my manager, Tank, asked what J and I were planning for the weekend, and I told him I didn’t have anything going on, just relaxing. He mentioned that San Francisco Pride was coming up, and I laughed and told him that we really weren’t “those kinds of lesbians.” And really, it’s quite a trip to take (J has never been to SF, except for a concert once), and I knew a hotel would cost an arm and a leg, if there were even any rooms available (which was very doubtful). So, later that day Tank said he had talked to his daughter who just recently bought a place in Oakland, and she told him to give me her number so that I could call her if we decided to make the journey that weekend for the parade. So, I text messaged her right away and told her thanks, but that I wasn’t going to make it, and we chatted back and forth for a while, and somewhere in there she offered to be a listener if I needed her for any support in my situation. She is my age, and has been married almost two years to a woman. See, they live in California and a few years ago homosexual marriage was made legal, and it was for a few months until it was voted not legal again, and in the window that they could marry each other they did, and are still seen as married in CA. Anyhoo, it was nice of her to offer to listen.

That night J and I were hanging out at her apartment and I got a text from Tank’s daughter, saying she and the wife discussed it and that J and I were to come up and stay with them in their home and go to Pride and have a blast. She also mentioned that they would be entertaining another person or two, and that as long as we brought an air mattress and didn’t hate dogs we were more than welcome. So, we went.

It was fun, although I saw way too many naked people. We got there Saturday at around 4 pm, and sat around with them on their patio and drank wine and beer, and ate a killer vegan pizza that Tank’s daughter’s wife made. A couple was there, a lady named Wendy McMillian (an actress in a lesbian movie called Go Fish from the 90s), and her girlfriend, and they were wonderful. See, I think gay people intimidate me. But all the ladies at Tank’s daughter’s house were great. Really great.

So, we went to The City that evening, around 7. There was a dyke march, and we jumped in and walked to the Castro District. It was a nice night, and after hanging out on the streets for a while we decided to go to a bar. A bar that google describes as, “The Lexington Club: Your Friendly Neighborhood Dyke Bar” It was fabulous! There were hot girls EVERYWHERE. Butches left and right. It was insane. J and I felt like awkward foreigners (at least, I did), not able to believe that places like this exist. A hot girl offered to let me feel her up (?!?). Anyway, it was an experience.

I'm sorry

2010-06-23T12:03:00.000-07:00

I don't really know what to say. Thanks for the emails to those of you that wrote to make sure I'm alive.

I am in a funk I guess. I've been busy at work, lots of co-workers have been vacationing so the few of us that haven't taken off are picking up the slack.

My family relationships (or lack thereof) have been getting to me more than usual. My sister (the one that watches Clem) asked me not to come to her baby's dedication at church a few weeks back, and while I understand her perspective (she doesn't want me to have any spiritual influence on her daughters), it hurts quite a bit. We had a good talk that day, I listened to her concerns and didn't argue, and I tried really hard not to cry in front of her, but it didn't work. I tear up even just typing about it.

My ex has moved away. For now Clem spends one week with me and one with him and we are switching off like that all summer. She is with him this week, and I miss her terribly at times. I took her to her dad's on father's day, and drove back home in time to have dinner at my parents' house. I felt so out-of-place, but I realize it's a position I've put myself in. I had no child, no partner, and I felt like less of a daughter to my dad because I know how hard the whole process of me breaking up with my spouse and then dating someone of the same sex has been on him, and I wonder if I'm ever going to feel like his girl again. I am terrified.

I don't mean to make this a total downer post, I have been having fun, I just feel like I am starting to adjust and sometimes it gets overwhelming. I'm one of those people that hopes. I hope a lot. I expect a lot too. I find myself expecting the things I have hoped, and that's where I find trouble. I had hopes for my relationship with J in regards to my family. I still do, and I think it's those expectations that tend to get me down. I want them to see what I see, you know? I want them to understand. And I know they aren't the ones to blame, and I try so hard to tell myself that they only want what's best for me, and being with J isn't what they believe is best, but I just feel so alone without them sometimes, and it has been hard.

So, thanks for listening. I promise another post (about sewing mouths shut) soon.

You'd think this job would have been strange a while ago

2010-05-17T11:45:00.000-07:00

Last week I had a slightly busy schedule, it seemed like all the families I met with wanted to have full services (which is great) and they were all a little odd. For example, I was meeting with a man whose grandson had died, and we had also done the services for his son 10 years prior. Parts of the arrangement went like this:
Me: (getting info for the death certificate) Sir, what was your grandson's father's name?
Grandpa: Well, you did his services 10 years ago
Me: *blink, blink* Um, okay, sir. *Pause while fighting the urge to say*: I will go down into the Great Underground Vault of All Past Services and pick out a nice case from 10 years back and we'll just use *that* name.
Me: I would be happy to go look up his information, but I would need his name to do that.
G: Well, I can *tell* you his name if that's all you need.
Me: *blink, blink*
*** Later that same arrangement ***
Me: Now, I need to go over some of the members' names of your grandson's family for the register book and the clergy record we provide. You said he has four children, can I get their names?
G: No.
Me: *blink* *long pause of awkward silence* Okay.

So, yeah, it was odd.

His grandson had been in an accident. Now, I know I've sung my own restorative art praises left and right, but I have to admit with this guy: there was NO bringing him back to view-ability. He didn't even look human any longer. He was in a million pieces, and even though the gross stuff doesn't seem to affect me, this one did. I have dreamt about him a couple of times. I'm telling you, guys, he didn't even really have a head. No skull, just a few bones. No skin, no eyes, no mouth (a few teeth though), no ears, hardly any hair, he was destroyed. The Medical Examiner couldn't even find all of his pieces. There are surely still pieces of him lying around town where the accident was. There has to be.

Anyway, I was glad he wasn't going to be viewed. I was glad to not have to tell his family that I wasn't going to be able to make him look like himself. I've never had to do that, and I didn't want to start yet.

I tried to make it less wordy with the photos

2010-05-10T12:17:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day was a bit different this year.

On Saturday I dropped Clem off at her dad's, they were going to take a trip to see his parents for the night and come back Sunday afternoon so I could have her for Mother's Day dinner at my moms. She arrived at my mom's around 3, and to my surprise her dad had bought a card for her to give me. She had written "mommy" (see photo) and even signed her name inside, getting quite good for a three-year-old, if I do say so myself.

She was excited to be at my parent's house, and told everyone "Happy Mother's Day" when they started arriving. My sister's oldest daughter woke up from her nap shortly after Clem got there, and they played outside while my sisters and I cooked dinner. We had decided to make pasta with three different sauces, and mine turned out really well. It's a sauce that I invented years and years ago, and just to be nice I'll share it with you here. Keep in mind that I don't like tomatoes, so when I say you'll like this pasta even if you don't like tomatoes, I am telling the truth. Also, I was making enough for a lot of people, so, you might want to cut the recipe in half. I made two batches of it, as my sisters thought we might need more, and even with just half of the half I was making at a time, it's enough for a few people. Also, I should mention that it is quite garlic-y.

Start with some olive oil in a frying pan, not much, and it needs to be a bit hot. Add four gloves of garlic, finely minced, and stir until it gets crispy (but not charred). It will start to stick together.

Turn the heat way down and wait a minute before adding about three-quarters cup of a dry white wine (I use pinot grigio because that's the one I always have) and turn the heat back up to simmer the alcohol out of the wine and get the garlic flavor into the liquid. Keep stirring.

After that has cooked a while I added a half can of stewed tomatoes, finely chopped, along with the juice in the can. I know, to tomato people it sounds gross to not use fresh ones (which I'm sure can be substituted here), and to non-tomato people it sounds gross because they're (disgusting) tomatoes, but I promise, they're yummy. Stir and keep cooking for a while (like 5 minutes) and add salt and pepper to taste.

I know, it kind of looks like vomit, but it really is good. The last thing to do is add a little bit of butter, like a tablespoon, and stir it up really well. It's a very runny sauce, and it works very well for dipping breadsticks in, and is, by far, my favorite pasta sauce.

So, dinner was very yummy, and dessert was good too, and it was nice to hang out a bit. Neither of my sisters or I have been talking much lately, since the whole "leaving the hubby for another woman" thing, but yesterday seemed a bit better than it has. Clem was quite a good girl, and my mom asked me if I thought she would want to stay the night at her house last night. I feel like she used to stay there a lot, and lately she doesn't get to as much, whether it's because she stays with her dad half the time, or that I just like having her at home with me, or some other reason I haven't even thought of, I don't know, but when I asked Clem if she wanted to she was excited and said yes. As soon as the middle sister heard what was going on I heard her say to my mom (with her voice full of disgust), "On mothers day???" and I immediately wanted to leave. I mean, I get it that I'm making the wrong choices in her mind. I get it that she thinks only awful mothers would let their daughter stay the night at their grandparents' house on this holiest day of a mother's year. I get it that she wants mom to know she thinks I'm making the wrong choices. But I wish that she could get a few things from my perspective. I wish she knew how it felt to be a single parent when you're married. Does she understand what that's like? To feel like the only one taking care of an infant? To feel like it's a fight to the death to keep sane and breastfeed and change all the diapers and make dinner and clean the house and get thin and bring the baby to see the family, etc. She can't possibly. She's married to Mr. Mom. He does it all. Laundry, diapers, feedings, work, love, time, all of it. Does she know what it's like to feel like you aren't a priority? Or that you're in the way? Or that you're an embarrassment? How could she? And really, I sound like a bitch and I don't mean to (completely), because I don't want her to know that. I want her to have it the way she does. But I want her to see that it wasn't that way for me. I want her to see that I didn't leave a perfect and happy home. I didn't leave so that I could be happy, I left so that I could just not me miserable, and stop feeling like I've failed at getting love. And it's hard for me. And terrifying. And I know that I sound like I am completely ungrateful of my ex and think he did it all wrong, and that's not entirely the truth. He had a good job, and I didn't have to worry about money. I had all of the "things" I wanted, but he was missing what I needed. I needed help, and I needed attention, and I needed love, and I needed time.

I was thinking last night at the Mother's Day dinner table how I used to want kids. I wanted a few of them. I wanted them right away when I married, but we waited. I wasn't one of those people that loves children, but I knew I would love my own, and I wanted them so badly. Then I had Clem and it all changed. I was depressed. I was tired. I was sad. Every morning until she was five months old and I finally called my aunt to tell her I just wanted to die and she had me go down right then and get on some meds I would think to myself, "this is the end of my life, I won't make it through this" and I knew, kids aren't for me. I didn't think I'd even make it to see Clem enter kindergarten, let alone ever want to have another one of these things that just take. so. much. work. I was done. The mother I wanted to be for so long was like a fairy tale. I didn't even mourn her loss.

So, now I sit here at my work computer, and I feel like complete crap about my sister and how judged I feel, and I just think, I gave up wanting more children because of the support I didn't receive from my ex, what am I going to have to give up because of my family? I don't know if I think it's hopeless to believe they will ever accept me being with a woman, and I'm trying to not dwell on that, but I just wish I could tell them how hard it is for me. And sometimes I wonder how I am supposed to get through it without them.

Mother's Day week

2010-05-06T09:59:00.001-07:00

I have a good friend that I met at the church I no longer attend whom I love to bits. She’s a great gal, always smiles and laughter, and we get along well. We haven’t even been those types of hang-out-all-the-time friends, but I consider her one of my best girls. I can tell her anything, which right about now is something I treasure.

My mom invited me over for dinner on Sunday, and she also invited this friend of mine (my mom adores her) and it was great to see her. We chatted a bit and laughed a ton, and she asked how everything is going with J, and it was great.

Monday, while I was getting lunch, she came by the office and gave a bag to Monica with specific instructions to only give me what’s inside when instructed to do so (she knows me well enough to know that I’ll just open all of whatever is in there at once), and after Monica explained that to me she pulled out a package that read “Day 1” on the card. I read the card, and it explained that this is mother’s day week, and that I get a gift each day. The card also had a Bible verse on it and said she loves me and thinks I’m a great mom.

So far:
Day 1: atomic fireballs
Day 2: Mad Libs (with instructions to share with Monica)
Day 3: Reese’s Pieces
Day 4: Lemon Drops (my favorite)

Anyway, isn’t that awesome?!?!?

I will follow you into the dark

2010-05-05T12:10:00.000-07:00

I got a call back in February from a pastor in a town not far from the city I live in asking for prices on a cremation, and asking for some details on how the whole process works. She told me that she was calling on behalf of one of the members of her church whose partner was being put on hospice care, dying of cancer. I gave her prices and some information, and asked her if I could be a bit nosy, and she told me yes, so I asked a bit about the “partnership” and what she meant by that. She told me that the women had been together for years (like 30 or more) and that they (obviously) weren’t married, but that they were each other’s legal next-of-kin, and also gave me cute little details about their relationship. So, I explained that I would need a copy of the documentation of that (which is odd, married couples don’t have to bring in their proof of marriage to show that they are, in fact, the legal next-of-kin), and that I could email all the forms to her to sign and fax back to me, and she said that would be great.

The forms were all sent back to me the next day, and we have kept them on file so that when the woman dies we will have everything we need. I didn’t end up talking with the partner making the arrangements ever, just the pastor, who was very kind.

The woman died yesterday. Big Bird gave me the file so that I could call the partner and touch base with her and make sure that the way everything had been set up back in February was the way it should be. She was very soft spoken, and quite calm, and I immediately liked her. I asked her if she had any questions about anything and she didn’t, and we went over some of the information I had in the file, and a couple of times she got a bit choked up, and I could hear the strain in her voice, trying not to cry.

I felt so badly for her, like I was feeling just a small part of the heartache she was feeling. I never feel like I want to hug people I make arrangements for (well, almost never), and I just wanted to hug her. I wanted to tell her that it’s okay to cry, and that I’m so sorry she lost the woman she has loved for most of her life. But I couldn’t, and she isn’t going to ever meet me, as the cremated remains are being shipped to her when the cremation is complete, and I’m disappointed. So, I wrote her a letter:

Dear *lady*
I want to express my condolences on the loss of your love. I know it might seem insincere to receive a letter like this from a funeral home employee, but I am truly sorry for her death, and I wanted to let you know that you have been in my thoughts today. I cannot begin to imagine the hurt that you are feeling, and I hope that you understand that it is okay to feel that way, and it’s also okay to not try to unfeel it.
It was nice to talk with you over the phone, and I hope that if there is anything you need that I can help you with (grief support groups in your area, counselor recommendations, etc.) you will let me know, it would be an honor for me to do that.
Sincerely,
Doll

I’m a bit nervous to send it though.

It’s funny, here this woman has lost her partner, and I can’t help but think she’s the luckiest woman on earth. How many people die without that kind of love? Far too many, I would guess.

Click here to hear the song this post is titled after.

In which I was having a great day until...

2010-05-03T11:27:00.000-07:00

Fuk. I'm not going to rant, I'm not going to rant, I'm not going to rant...

I am making arrangements for the interment of a veteran in one of the national cemeteries. His remains were cremated and the next-of-kin gave me the DD214 (discharge form) so that I could arrange for the free burial that he is entitled to (did you know that all honorably-discharges veterans are entitled to a free grave and marker?), and I faxed it in to the National Cemetery scheduling office this morning. I waited a while and called them to make sure they would have had time to receive the fax, and talked to a sweet lady that took the deceased's info and scheduled the graveside service with me in about 5 minutes. She took the date that I requested for the service and asked what time:
Service Lady: What time on that date would you like the service?
Me: is 11 available?
SL: Lemme check *clicky sounds on the computer* Um, the closest I have is 12:30.
Me: *notice that Big Bird is standing over my shoulder holding her desk calendar, and turn to look at her*
Big Bird: *whispering* 11 o'clock today? I have an opening for 11:30, not 11!!! *panicking now, but still whispering*
Me: *to the SL on the phone* Please excuse me, I'm being interrupted. *exasperated, to BB* I am on the phone, and this has nothing to do with an appointment here, nor is it for today.
*BB feels like an idiot and walks back into her office to eavesdrop on the rest of the fucking day, and I feel like shit for having been an ass hole*
*to the SL* Sorry about that, did you say 12:30? That's just fine.
etc...

WTF? Why is she so effing anal about the fracking calendar? Why does she think that I am incapable of checking a fucking calendar to see when we have appointments available? Am I really that incompetent? Am I new here? Why am I so angry?

And this is what really sucks: I was in *such* a good mood today! Here are my reasons why (maybe they will help calm me down):
1. I slept well. J and I went to the spa last night before bed, and although it was WAY too hot, I feel quite refreshed.
2. We didn't get too busy at work this weekend, so today has been less hectic than the past few Mondays.
3. I'm not sure why, but my boobs look GREAT today. Maybe they got perkier overnight, or maybe my vision is failing in my old age, either way, they're adorable.

But, alas, I am sitting here, relaxed and perky, and in a foul effing mood. Somebody, please, cheer me up!

UPDATE:
Part of my good day list is two blogs I've been liking, that I am sharing with you:
Is this thing on?
Late Enough

A short list

2010-04-28T10:51:00.000-07:00

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.

Mourners, party of 3...

2010-04-23T16:23:00.000-07:00

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.

Staring out the window...

2010-04-20T15:07:00.000-07:00

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…

Death becomes me

2010-04-19T10:49:00.001-07:00

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...

I would LOL but it would interfere with the pouting

2010-04-14T13:31:00.000-07:00

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...

Doll, if anyone asks, nothing happened last night

2010-04-13T15:49:00.000-07:00

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.

Why don't you ever blog about your girlfriend? ;o)

2010-04-12T14:25:00.001-07:00

I guess because I feel like the blog readers want to hear about funeral stuff, not personal stuff. But if you want to hear about her, I am more than happy to fill up a post with information about her. And I don't have any funeral-related questions in this question-grabber, so...

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.

Ask me anything

How did you meet the person you had an affair with? Male or Female? And how did your husband find out? Duration?

2010-04-12T10:10:00.001-07:00

Okay, so I've been wondering how much detail I should go into about this one, and I figure I don't *actually* know most of the readers of my blog, so I might as well tell you guys everything.

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.

Ask me anything

There's always one...

2010-04-02T18:38:00.001-07:00

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.

Best. Saturday. Ever.

2010-03-20T13:41:00.001-07:00

What a lazy day. Having a great time, beer, guacamole, and the people I love. Doesn't get any better, folks.

Yummy lunch!

2010-03-19T15:01:00.001-07:00

Just a photo of the oysters i'm eating...

Conversations with my mother

2010-03-18T14:48:00.000-07:00

I was talking to my mom the other night, she had shoulder surgery and I went over to check up on her and I was telling her about my manager, Tank (whom she knows), and the experience he had last week. Back years ago, when he had first received his embalmer’s license, he got a case, a young woman who had been murdered, and it was his first homicide. She had been pretty badly beaten, and he embalmed her and also met with her family, and he remembers a lot about the case: her name, how old she was, the family, etc. Apparently there had been other murders in the area all by what looked like the same person, and the man (I’m not just assuming it was a man, the victims all had been sexually assaulted and there was semen found on them) had never been caught. So, the other night he was watching the news and he heard that a man had been convicted of these murders from the time period and in the same area as this gal, but no victim names were mentioned in the clip, so he googled the story, finding the name of the girl he had embalmed decades ago as one of those victims this guy had been convicted of murdering. Pretty effing crazy, no?

So, I tell this all to my mom who is shocked that Tank remembered, and then she looked at me and said how sad it was.

Mom: That’s so sad, Doll.
Me: Yeah, but sometimes people die that way.
Mom: No, I mean that he was so affected. How awful.
Me: It’s not that bad, mom.
Mom: But it stayed with him all that time. It must have really weighed heavy on him to have stayed with him for so long. How awful to have had to work on a homicide. You’ve never had to do that, have you??
Me: Work on a homicide?
Mom: Yeah.
Me: Of course I have, mom.
Mom: How sad!!
Me: It’s part of the job, mom. It’s helpful.

So, I was thinking about it, my poor mother, all doped up on surgery meds, being surprised at the fact that I’ve worked on homicides, when I know she and I have talked about it before. Hell, I was a mess a while back working on the little one (4 years old) that had been murdered and bawled my brains out at her, so I know she knew that I’ve had to do that before, but I think it wasn’t until Tank’s story that she realized that some of this shit doesn’t go away. Some of it just stays with us. He will always see the marks on that woman’s body, remembering how he had to cover up the strangulation marks on her neck so that her parents and sister wouldn’t see the extent of the damage done to their girl, and that will always be part of the game. I will never forget that little one, and cannot seem to escape the knowledge that they suffered. Suffered badly, and for what reason? I remember my tears falling on the child’s arms as I dressed the little body, and watching a father place them in a casket that shouldn’t even be made that small.

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that my mom is right. It is sad. And I think I am starting to understand that it might hurt every now and then. But it’s my job. And I love it. And I think I am starting to realize that it’s okay to be affected, at least every once in a while.

Just a giveaway

2010-03-10T15:48:00.000-08:00

Part of the rules were that I had to let you all know about this lovely little giveaway in order to enter, so, why don't you check it out.

Also, I have a baseball bat to the face to do right now, will post tomorrow!

In which I was busy

2010-03-10T11:31:00.000-08:00

Eek!

High profile cases were everywhere last week. I am glad that's over.

I had a baby (preemie, lived two weeks) service yesterday- a graveside- and the priest was a half-hour late, and it was cold outside. I was not too happy, not to mention the family was irate, but as soon as the service got started it was okay. The sun even came out for a few minutes.

I had lunch with Big Bird yesterday as well, and it was quite awkward. She is just so strange. And I feel like she doesn't quite know what to say to me with the whole divorce situation. She does ask about Clem, making sure she's okay, and that's nice, but I sorta feel like she wants details and doesn't know how to ask. So, the lunch was a bit weird (to say the least) and I ended up getting hit on by a guy eating next to us (which she brought up to the rest of the office when we got back, embarrassing me a bit). Very odd.

We ended up with a total of four suicides in the last two weeks. Two gunshot wounds to the head, one OD on pills, and one suffocation, all self-inflicted (obviously). I'm not too sure what's with the suicides, but whatever.

This week I have an AIDS case. It's one of those cause of deaths that seems like it would worry those of us that work with the bodies, but doesn't. See, AIDS is a very picky virus. It can't live long in a body that isn't the right temperature, unlike Hepatitis or TB, so once a body has been refrigerated for a while it is unlikely that the remains could infect one of us (that, and it's blood borne, not airborne (again, like TB)). The AIDS case is an older man, and from the other things listed on his death certificate it seems like he probably contracted it from needles.

Also, I have a Facebook page if any of you want to be a fan (but if you know me in real life, please don't, as I am a bit paranoid).

I got an email question:

2010-02-25T16:31:00.000-08:00

Good Day Dollface:
First off, I enjoy your blog for giving us readers an insight into both your professional and personal life. I live in Canada and I have a question.
I would like to simply be cremated in a cardboard box without embalming. Is this possible? How can I ensure my wishes?
If you could address this question on your blog, I would really appreciate it.

Now, I don't know the rules there in the land above, but I do know them here, and I would imagine they are a lot the same, and to be sure I called up a funeral home in Vancouver to ask a question or two, and I was right.

If one wants to be cremated, and there is no viewing of the body, there is no reason to embalm the remains. Instead, the remains are refrigerated, so as to slow down their decomposition, and then cremated when the proper documents are filed and the cremation is approved. Into a cardboard box the remains will go, and into a retort (mortuary term!) and viola! the cremation begins. Now, in order to ensure that your wishes to be cremated (directly, without viewing) are followed, you need to pre-arrange your cremation with a local funeral home, and then let your family know that you have done so, so that they don't call the wrong place when you die, and make unnecessary (and unwanted) arrangements. It would also be a good idea to prepay for the services, as most mortuaries will offer a guaranteed price when you pre-pay.

Is that sufficient? Would you like me to email you some mortuaries' contact info in your area?

Eight things

2010-02-25T15:39:00.000-08:00

1. A 500 pound dead person is very large. Not to mention hard to lift into a casket.
We got a large one this week. VERY large. Like size 60 pants. Anyhoo, he ended up taking three tanks of fluid (each tank is about three gallons), and luckily (as with a lot of over-sized people) was on some sort of blood thinner before he died, so the fluid pushed through quite nicely.

2. When the office smells like marijuana nobody will fess up to being the culprit.
Not really sure what to say about this one, but the place stunk for a bit this morning.

3. Turns out that it is always better when someone leaves a suicide note.
We had two (that's right, two) self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head cases this week, neither one of which left a note, which means the authorities have more work to do to prove it was a suicide, which can make life even more difficult for an already distraught family. Imagine finding out your husband/wife/child/parent has died, then add them seizing your phone, computer, mail, bank records, etc., to investigate you in their death. Not fun.

4. The office staff do a great job of singing “Happy Birthday”
My birthday is coming up, and the boss and one of the co-workers won't be here tomorrow, so they sang to me this morning. It was nice, and we don't do that for each other normally, but I always make cupcakes for the staff on their birthday, and I think it's their way of appreciating me on my day like I do on theirs.

5. Not everyone I expected to be at my 30th birthday party is going to be there. Actually, the people I expected are the ones not showing up.
Kind of bummed about this one, especially since it's a major milestone, but I'm gonna have fun anyway, and am excited about seeing my old roommate from college whom I haven't seen in a couple of years. She's flying in from New Jersey.

6. Moving into a new apartment is a pain in the ass, especially with a full-time job and a small child.
Not really anything to say about that, except that I found my own place and have moved out of the hubby's apartment.

7. When we get wrong numbers at the funeral home, they can be quite funny.
Call went like this:
Monica: Happy Days Mortuary, this is Monica!
Caller: Yes, hi, I would like to speak with someone in your Parts Department.
Monica: Excuse me?
Caller: Yes, Parts Department please?
Monica: Sir, this is a funeral home.
Caller: I can hold.
*puts him on hold and starts laughing hysterically. Like the kind of laughing that makes one pee their pants. Finally stops crying from laughing so hard and tells me what happened. I laugh and ask if she wants me to take the call. she says yes. I pick up the phone*
Me: This is Doll, can I help you?
Caller: Yeah, hi, I was calling to get your prices on (some word I don't remember) fibers. Can you help me with a quote on that?
Me: Sir, You have called a funeral home (I'm speaking slowly at this point, figuring that a prank caller would have given up by now, and this guy must be hard of hearing or retarded). Are you trying to reach *name of company that we get calls for all the time*?
Caller: Yes, isn't that you?
Me: No, sir, this is a FUNERAL HOME.
Caller: *laughs* Oh, I'm sorry to have bothered you.
Me: Oh, it's no bother, have a nice day!
Caller: Thanks, you too.

8. It is not easy to get lip prints from a dead lady.
There's a company that makes jewelry from thumb prints. The stuff is awesome (and I think it's even cool to do for a non-dead person, like a baby or pet) and we sell quite a few of them. This week however, we had a family that wanted something made from their mother's lip print. We explained that it wouldn't come out looking like a kiss, as mom couldn't pucker any longer, and they were fine with that, so we spent the better part of an hour trying to get prints from this lady's mouth. Oddly enough, the jewelry company had run into the same request before.

Completely personal

2010-02-16T09:21:00.001-08:00

So, I’ve been living with my parents the last few weeks, and I found a two bedroom apartment for me and Clem that I can move into this week. The hubby has been really good to me, not seeming angry or vengeful, which has been a relief. He and I switch off with Clem, and even though I don’t like when she’s away, I don’t worry about her when she’s with her dad. He finally told his parents this weekend, and I don’t really know what they had to say, other than suggesting that we get a legal separation asap.

I am beginning to feel better about the situation, although I miss some of the friends that I feel like I’ve lost, and I don’t quite feel “at home” with my parents and sisters. I have a few friends that have been really great though, and even though I get a bit depressed sometimes, I feel like I most likely won’t die of all of it.

The owner for the funeral home has treated me really well, and offers (horrible but appreciated) advice to me all the time. Actually, I’ve come to realize that he, along with my manager, are great listeners, and neither one of them has made me feel judged in this whole thing, and I find myself being completely honest with both of them (which is quite a feat for me).

The rest of the office has also been nice, but less serious. They refuse to call me by my married name, and now are calling me by my maiden name, even though I have no intention of changing my name back any time soon, and the other day played me a version of Taps, complete with a military salute, for the “death of my marriage” as they so nicely put it. It sounds kinda shallow and cold, but I laughed with them and said thanks.

In which I dispense advice to a pro (and don't charge)

2010-02-09T22:35:00.000-08:00

So, I personally (or the funeral home I work for) haven't had any good cases to blog about, but I did get a call from Jane asking for help (over the phone) on a case with stab wounds to the neck and face. She, being a long-time embalmer, has worked on her share of reconstructions, and has always used waxes to cover things up and patch things over, but she wanted to try using a product that I use a lot (and that I've blogged about before) on accident cases called Easy Way (by Dodge, if you want to get some for your prep room), and she didnt know how to use it properly, so who did she call??? Yep, me. I felt like such a smarty-pants! So, I explained to her how to mix the liquid and powder, and told her to watch the consistancy until it was kinda close to the waxes she is used to working with, and told her what to do once it was ready to use. Anyway, she ended up calling me ~~five more times~~ once more to get advice, and I swear, it was the best ever. My ego, HUGE that day.

I am thinking about updating about my personal life, as I recieved more visits when discussing my affair, but then I felt like I was whoring out my blog that is supposed to be for work, LoL. Maybe in a day or two...

Motorcycle escorts

2010-02-08T13:59:00.001-08:00

I'm on a service right now, working with one of the part-time guys that i really like, actually, I try to schedule him on my services whenever possible, and we are on our way to the cemetery. He is driving me in the hearse, and the family is following behind, and the motorcycle escorts are leading us through downtown (I work in my city's downtown, and am IN LOVE with it) on our way out to the cemetery on the other side of town. We dont live in one of those towns that requires escorts, but we use them for most services, and it is quite helpful to have them around. see, they always open the church doors for us when we have the casket, and open the hearse when we are ready to load up, and they are great at helping haul the flowers to the car when we're getting everything set to go to the cemetery, not to mention the whole stopping traffic thing. And they are nice guys. The escort company (I almost said service, LOL) we use has probably 10 or so guys that ride for them on a regular basis, and some part-time guys that work when there are too many services for them to handle. anyway, just wanted to let you in on my love for the motorcycle guys.

Improvements

2010-02-03T16:46:00.000-08:00

So, I've been thinking about stuff about myself that I would like to change and I have a little list:

1. Stop smoking. Yeah, I look cool, but it's gross.
2. Stop drinking as much. I don't think I really am out of control about it, but if I really want to quit smoking I should stop going to bars as much, where I have to smoke.
3. Get a tattoo. I have a few already, but I would like another one, maybe some leaves and some words.
4. Read more. I am a pretty avid reader, but my sister, B, is like a crazy reader girl, and even checks books out from the library. I want to do that too.
5. Buy Dexter on DVD. All the seasons I can get my hands on.
6. Be more honest. I'm thinking this one will be the hardest, but it's worth a shot.
7. Embalm more (Jane is gonna love this one). I want to make more time for working with the bodies. I thin part of my emotional stress level has to do with meeting a whole bunch of grieving families. I need to calm down and work on the technical aspect of this job, instead of the emotional side of it.

So, those are it so far.

Also, here's my current love:

Manic Monday

2010-02-01T22:05:00.000-08:00

Busiest. Day. Ever!!!

So, I was on call this weekend, and didn't end up having to go in the office once, which was nice because I had a long, emotionally draining time with the hubby. I got six new cases, most of which were on Sunday, and the families all acted like they wanted to come in on Monday to make arrangements, and two of the cases were coroner's cases that wouldn't be released until Monday anyway, so we couldn't embalm them until then.

Anyway, I feel like I have been making arrangements ALL DAY, which I have. My first appointment was at eleven, making arrangements for a 12 day old infant that apparently died of SIDS, but the ruling most likely won't be for months. SIDS cases are hard to determine right away, it seems to be one of those cause of deaths that is kinda a catchall. So, the mom and dad weren't really good buddies, and both of their parents came in to help, as well as friends of the family and the pastor. They prayed throughout the whole thing, which I'm totally for, but I felt very awkward the whole time. They picked a nice little casket, and the service is going to be at a church, which I'm glad for, as I don't know that our chapel would be big enough. I gave them all my cell number so that they could reach me if they had questions (I figure two eighteen year olds might have a few questions) and sent them on their way.

The second family I met with was nice, they had a pre-arrangement on their dad who died, and the arrangement went smoothly. The arrangements were being made by three of the sons, whom, within five minutes of the arrangement had been charmed by my loveliness and humor. They hadn't been one of the calls that came in over the weekend, and they just walked in without an appointment (NOT the day to do that, but whatever), but luckily I had the time to meet with them since my manager ended up taking my other appointment, who had been running late.

Then I had a three o'clock, and they were strange. They wanted a cremation for their dad, and asked every question in the book about every little thing. It was two sons and a daughter of the deceased, and one of the sons was doing that look-at-me-a-little-too-long thing that was a bit creepy, but at the same time made me feel like I was overreacting and he was just weird, but not creepy. But let me reiterate: they asked EVERY QUESTION IN THE BOOK!!! I even said to them that my mort sci teachers would be very proud of me if they were there listening. they laughed, and I'm sure they have no idea that no one asks all those questions.

Anyway, there was only one case for me to get ready today, and he looked great, but when all was said and done we had six that needed to be embalmed today, none of which I embalmed, and I am sure to get an earful from Jane tomorrow about that.

ANd now I'm sitting on my sister's bed, having a vodka cranberry (all about the health), checking her farmville (is it possible to be addicted and NOT have my own facebook?), and posting, but grateful because my daughter is sleeping in the next room and not across town, and starting to get a little tired.

Going into detail

2010-01-29T09:21:00.000-08:00

So, I had an affair.

Everyone seems to be very helpful, I keep getting calls from church people that want to know if I need/want to talk. I don't. There's one person I want to talk to and can't, and they wouldn't answer the phone if I called anyway, which I'm sure is for the best. I ran into the pastor this morning at Starbuck's on my way to work. He was meeting with a couple of guys that go to the church, and they all said hi and were happy to see me (the guys are buddies of my dad's, and having gone to church there since I was 14 I've known them a long time), and Pastor asked if his wife and I were going to meet up today, which I hope we aren't. I just don't know what to say anymore, I don't know what to think, I can't trust my feelings nor do I feel like I can trust my mind.

My eyes are puffy from all the crying, I look like shit. I feel even worse. I'm not even crying for the right reasons. I don't actually even know why I'm crying. I miss my daughter, though. I know that's a good reason, but I also know that I'm not just crying about that, or even crying about what I'm doing to her. My youngest sister is going to bring my daughter to work for lunch so I can see her today. How do I not just cry on her?

Yesterday the hubby called me on the phone, angry as hell (understandable) and told me that I was going to have to give up my cell phone last night. So I knew I had to tell my boss here at work since I'm on call this weekend, and it's hard to be on call without a phone. The boss was extremely wonderful to me, he pulled me aside and we had a few talks yesterday and have already had a couple today. Any time he thinks of something that might be helpful he lets me hear it. He said that he would go buy me a cell phone to use for work, and I laughed, thinking how funny that he wants to help solve my problems, but having no clue that the cell phone isn't actually the problem. He even gave me a hug. I'm not really a hugger, and it was awkward as hell, but it was nice of him to let me cry (not to mention go home early yesterday). He also said that my manager has been worried lately, as I am just not myself, so I had a talk with him too, and he was nice. And all of that and I still have my cell phone, LOL. The boss asked me this morning if I needed money. I told him no, but thanked him. He also sad that I was welcome to stay at the funeral home if I wanted to get away from everyone, which I do, but I refuse to sleep here.

So, I'm sorry I'm blabbing it all here, but I really need to let it out and don't want to make my family listen to any more of it. My parents text me with 'I love you's and are being really great, and I feel bad having messed up and making them suffer with me, not to mention my sisters and friends. I mean, can you imagine going into detail about an affair with your parents? It's tough. Anyway, that's it.

It feels strange...

2010-01-28T21:08:00.000-08:00

So, I'm kinda in a shitty spot. I might go into detail someday, but for now I'll just tell you a little bit. As of today I am living with my parents. I don't know how long I'll live here with them, I have to make some decisions about my marriage that I think will be quite hard. I've been given the choice of staying in the town I live in now, where my job and family and friends and life are and giving up my daughter half of the time but keeping my freedom while the hubby moves away, or staying with him and moving away from this city and leaving behind any freedoms I've ever had. I'd like to think that I'm really making a decision for the next few days but the way it looks now I've pretty much made up my mind. I went to my place to pick up clothes and a toothbrush and stuff and feel like a high school kid again at home with mom and dad. I've never felt so broken as I do right now, and leaving my daughter crying and telling me that she just needed me as I walked away was the hardest thing ever, but how could I tell her that mommy isn't welcome any more? I'm sad guys, and I'm confused and broken and scared.

Recap of the decap...

2010-01-26T09:39:00.000-08:00

(that was too cute of a title not to use)

So, a while back a guy was in a car accident and was decapitated. Now, in mortuary school you learn how to repair a decapitation in theory. The problem with that is though, that while you learn how to embalm a head an body separately, position the head properly, stitch it back on to the body, and cosmetize over the whole mess, it's a bit different in practice. See, what they don't teach you is how to not freak the fuck out when you are standing there looking at a head that has been severed from a body. It is very odd, and a bit nauseating. This guy's head was just off to the side of the embalming table, and it was like my mind was trying to make sense of it, even though I know that he had been decapitated.

He ended up looking great, which in a way sucks ("Look, guys, it doesn't look like he died a tragic, painful, unnecessary death because he drank WAY too much and decided to drive home"), but in a way is nice. the stitching up took the most time (doesn't it always), followed closely by the cosmetizing afterward.

Another strange thing: I didn't take off the wristband that the bar had given him that night. It had the name of the club on it, and made it through the accident without a scratch.

In which I am a little freaked out by the casualness of a dying man

2010-01-22T09:58:00.000-08:00

I don't make a lot of pre-arrangements here at work. Not that they aren't common, they are, but we have a pre-need guy on staff that does a lot of them, and I tend to be busy making arrangements or working services for people that have already died, so the pre-arrangements that I do tend to be few and far-between. It's always nice to do them, though, as I get paid comission on top of being on the clock, but anyway, I need to get to my story.

Yesterday I was getting a case ready for viewing (he was already in the casket, I was just adjusting his make-up) and Tank came in to let me know that there was a walk-in pre-arrangement that he wanted me to take. I said I'd be there in a minute and asked him to take the gentleman to an arrangement office. So, I go in to meet this guy and introduce myself, and I notice that he is fairly young for pre-arranging, probably about 45 or so, and I start talking to him about what it is that he wants to do (burial or cremation, pre-paid or not, where his ashes are going, etc) and he tells me that he wants to do everything (sign all his own cremation forms, pre-pay). So, I am asking him if he wants to pay it all at once or make payments over time (since for someone of his age making payments can work out to be actually cheaper than paying it all at once), and this is what he says: Well, I am checking into the hospital in February and don't plan on coming out, so I think I'd just like to pay you all of it at once if it's okay. Needless to say, I was a bit speechless. So, I fumble over a few words and get (somewhat) back to business, but I couldn't help myself, I had to ask him: Why are you dying? HONESTLY FOLKS, I CANNOT BELIEVE I SAID IT. Wtf? Why are you dying???? Why did I say that??? So, immediately I say: I'm sorry, that was really personal. But he smiles and tells me that he has leukemia. It's the worst kind, and chemo is needed for the brain cancer that he now has, and it's just poison so, he is ready to die come February. He told me that he has a daughter, she isn't yet 18, and that he just doesn't want her to have to deal with any of it. So, I asked him questions about dying, and he told me that everyone dies, and laughed a little even at the oddness of telling a mortician that everyone dies. I have to admit, it was quite ironic. He told me that he was ready to die, and that he just wished he would be around to see his daughter turn 18.

So, he left, and I keep thinking about him. I want to visit him in the hospital, which is strange. I am freaked out that he was sitting there with me, chatting about dying and stuff, and in a few months he's gonna be in a box in the refrigerator in the back. Dead.

A little about me

2010-01-21T16:35:00.000-08:00

Hi, my name is: Doll Face

but you can call me: if you've got my number

Never in my life have I: liked chocolate

The one person who can drive me nuts is: myself

My high school is/was: fun. And a bit intoxicated

When I’m nervous: I don't eat

The last song I listened to was: With Everything

My hair is: Tiny and blonde

When I was 4: I only had one sister, and parents and a cat.

Last Christmas: I gave you my heart...

I should be: where I want to be, but I'm at work instead.

When I look down: I wonder why I love this ugly sweater.

The happiest recent event was: something that feels farther away than it should

By this time next year: I will be happier than today.

My current gripe is: not going to get posted here

I have a hard time understanding: why I am given things I can't use

If I won an award, the first person I would tell would be: J

I want to buy: Jewelry

Where do you plan to visit: I don't know yet...

If you spent the night at my house: I'd offer you a beer

The world could do without: styrofoam

Most recent thing I’ve bought myself: a diet pepsi

Most recent thing someone else bought me: lunch

My middle name is: The same as my Mom's mom's first name

In the morning I: don't like to shower

Last night I was: Tired and emotionally drained

If I was an animal I’d be a: Owl

A better name for me would be: Jane

Tomorrow I am: working. hard.

Tonight I am: gonna be tired. again.

I wasn't lying

2010-01-07T11:56:00.000-08:00

So, the final body count for the month of December: 86

Do you realize how many that is? I suppose it really isn't that bad if you work at a funeral home that does 2,000 cases a year, but I don't work at a place like that. we do about 700-800 a year, so that's 20 more bodies than our average on a high year. Insane. See, I told you I was busy.

Also, my manager told me yesterday that he had something that he wanted to bring me that I would love. I laughed and asked what it was and all he would tell me was that it had to do with boobs. ANyway, he gave me it today, a rubber bracelet that reads, "I *heart* boobies!" Needless to say, I have it on, as it matches my outfit and I do indeed heart boobies.

I'm sorry!!!

2010-01-05T15:12:00.000-08:00

Okay, now that I've apologized for the complete negligence of this blog I will update you:

We've been busy. I've started to write about the decapitation case and haven't had enough time to really get it all down, and it's interesting enough of a topic for me to really want to explain thoroughly. I promise though, it will get here eventually.

Christmas got in the way. I spent the holiday with my family, eating way too much (don't worry though, I'm still hot) and not drinking so heavily that my mother had to explain the happenings of the days to me. It was great. I got some good loot, as did Clem, and thankfully she didn't complain that mommy and daddy didn't get her anything (we gave her a choice: either we buy gifts for her, or we use that money to buy gifts for two kids that don't have a lot of money this Christmas, and she really wanted to pick out gifts for the other kids, so we didn't get her anything), and Christmas eve and day were very relaxing. I was on call the next few days, and there were families I came in to the office to meet with, but nothing too dificult or crazy, so even that wasn't bad. Also, I got a super-cute yellow skirt suit from my mom that is killer, and I can't wait to get it back from the cleaners.

The Mr. and I left for Vegas on the 30th, we stayed for New Year's, and it was great. We go at least once a year, especially now that we are parents, and a group of our friends from all over the states went as well. Our plane arrived that afternoon, and the rest of our crew (8 in all) were there by 6pm, so we immediately went for a nice dinner, and continued drinking and gambling until the 2nd when we flew home. We stay downtown, this time at the Golden Nugget, and the hubby got us a suite as a nice surprise. The hotel has been redone and looks a lot like one of the hotels on the Strip, but is still a downtown place, and has some good poker tournaments as well. We won a ton, and luckily we left before we had a chance to loose it all. It really was great. You should have seen the bed in our room, btw, it was like sleeping on a cloud.

So, that's what I was doing... I've missed you guys!

Hate: a four-letter word?

2009-12-22T08:36:00.000-08:00

I was listening to music with Clem (she's three) and she told me "I don't sing when it's the part with the bad word." I couldn't think of what bad word the song we were listening to had, so I asked her what word it was that she thought was bad (thinking that maybe she was getting the lyrics wrong, or that I was) and she hesitated, probably thinking that she wasn't sure if it was really okay to say it, and finally said, "hate." Now, I am sure that my sister (not my favorite one, the other one) told her that hate is a bad word, she's the one that watches Clem while I'm at work, and I'm okay with that, I don't really want my kid running around saying that she hates things, but at the same time, I don't want her thinking hate is a bad word just like fuck or bitch or something. So, I explained to her that hate isn't a bad word, but that it can be hurtful to people (she said, "mom, if it's hurtful then that's bad," making me explain that, too), and we have to understand that it is rarely necessary to use the word. I also explained that a lot of times it is used when people don't really mean it, and that they don't even realize they're saying it (which she told me is something I do all the time (kid notices everything apparently).

I'm fairly confident that I did the right thing. It isn't a bad word, right?

It's like being in an episode of The Twilight Zone

2009-12-18T16:55:00.000-08:00

So, this week has been unending. We had six services today, and new families to meet with. It was insane. We had five services yesterday. I have just about gone mad.

Anyway, there's a visitation tonight, it starts in just a few minutes, and the family was a little late in approving the info we have on the deceased, so Buffy is just finishing up on printing the programs and register book. He's been super busy all day anyway though, so it's not like it would have been completed a long time ago had the family approved our paperwork sooner. Anyway, Big Bird (funeral office Nazi) just took a call that apparently was a family member of the visitation-tonight-guy, letting us know that we had an incorrect middle initial for him. So, she tells Buffy and he just says, "great, now I have to reprint the book and everything." He sounded really sad when he said it, you could hear the I-thought-today-was-over-and-now-I-have-to-stay-late disappointment in his voice, and Big Bird did something I never thought I'd see. She leaned in to him (he was sitting with his back to her, she was standing behind him) and lightly rubbed his back with the back of her index finger. It was so loving and mother-like I just about died. Buffy even looked over at me with this "wtf" expression, and we just kinda stared at each other. It was the weirdest thing. So, anyway, that's all I've got for today.

Join me next week for a recap of the decapitation case...

For Miss Anne

2009-12-17T10:00:00.000-08:00

I might end up taking this photo down, as I don't want anyone to recognize me, but I look cute today, and Miss Anne wanted a photo a while back...

The comfort of tradition

2009-12-16T09:53:00.000-08:00

I'm at a service. It's a Rosary followed by a Mass, followed by the cremation of the deceased's remains. Usually when we're as busy as we are right now I don't like working services, as I am constantly thinking about what I could be doing at the office, not thinking about being a great funeral director, but today I am glad to be here. It could be partly because I don't have to go to the cemetery after we finish, which is always cold at this hour and this time of year, but mostly it's because I just need a break, and it turns out this Rosary the priest is saying is soothing me. I love the sound of his voice, and the response the crowd gives. The words sound beautiful and melodic, and I just want to hear them over and over, the rest of the day, and let them wash my tiredness and stress away in a river of peacefull lyrics. I can think here. I can relax. I can breathe.

I don't suppose I will ever know why it is that the words of the Rosary are so wonderful to me. I'm not Catholic, although my mom often tells me that I should have been born her (raised Catholic) and she been born me (raised Presbyterian). There's just something about it having always been done this way, the tradition of the prayers, and the holiness of it all. I'm just glad to be here, at this little church, hearing these words.

I don't remember ever being this busy

2009-12-14T15:05:00.000-08:00

OMFG.

Number of cases we have in house: 21

Number of cases I want to be working on: 0

I am so busy I can hardly see straight. Monica was on call this weekend, and she called to let me know we were swamped over the weekend. We got an auto accident case who is actually Monica's uncle (in-law), and he should be arriving any minute for me to check him out and see how extensive the damage is on his head. I'm hoping that he's not too bad mostly because of how little time I have to work on him, and also because I don't want Monica to see him like that, even if she is a tough girl.

I also have a case that is going to be shipped in from Oregon. I love seeing death certificates from other states, so that should be fun.

Anyway, I am really sorry for the lack of posting.

Just a small update

2009-12-04T12:07:00.000-08:00

It's been a busy week, I had three services yesterday and have four today. I'm out at a cemetery right now, at a service for a young guy that was killed in an accident (motorcycle). His viewing was yesterday, he is such a handsome kid, and the family thought he looked amazing. His bone structure was fine for the most part, the only fractures I found were inside his cranium, where the occipital lobes attach to the rest of the skull, and the flesh was still intact so I wasn't required to do any wiring of the bones. His face was a bit scratched and fairly bruised, but after a while I was able to get him looking perfect. His dad even called my cell last night to tell me how beautiful his son looked and to tell me thanks, which was really nice.

Okay, I'm back in the office now. I have a memorial service starting shortly, and I'm not going to have time to blog later today, as I have a few cases that need my attention after the service, but I am on call this weekend, so there's a chance I will be blogging tomorrow.

Maybe a little late...

2009-11-30T13:19:00.000-08:00

So, I'm sorry I haven't updated, here are my excuses: Thanksgiving week = a day off, but not less deaths, so a five day week's worth of work has to get accomplished in 4 (actually more like 3 and a half, we all check out at about noon on the day before Thanksgiving); I've been sick, actually fairly certain it was H1N1, but am now recovering; I haven't felt like internetting much this week for some reason. Anyway, here is a list of my thankful things:

1. I'm thankful for my family. I was sitting with my sister having a beer and I was thinking about how nice it was to have Thanksgiving with a family that I don't dread being around. My mom's side of the family came to town: three aunts, three uncles, a couple of cousins and their kids, my hubby, my daughter, my sister (the one I was having the beer with, the other one was with her in-laws), my parents, and a good friend of mine. We hung around and ate and drank, and it was a blast, actually not too different from any other year, which is probably why I never really thought that Thanksgiving could be a bummer holiday were it spent with family members I don't enjoy. So, there I was, having a beer with my sister sometime on Saturday afternoon, and I was thinking how lucky I am to have a totally fun dysfunctional family, instead of a dreadful yet functional one.

2. I'm thankful for this blog. Another thing I realized while having beer with my sister is that I am so glad I have an outlet for my job. Not that my friends don't want to hear about how work is going, they kinda do, but not in the depth that I would like to share it with them. This blog has been quite the stress reliever, not to mention how it has helped me to feel less like I'm crazy for loving my job, as all of you readers make me feel like there are a handful of folks out there that understand my love for this field, and actually are interested in the goings-on of my day-to-day, instead of being grossed out. It's really pretty awesome to have you guys.

3. I'm thankful that I'm pretty. Yeah, I know it's shallow, and I also know that I might not be pretty to everyone, but I think I'm pretty. Actually, I know I'm pretty, and I'm proud of it. I love my super-short haircut (it's an 8 on the back and sides, a little longer on top, and is usually spiky, or faux-hawked). I love my green eyes. I love my faint freckles. I love my smile. I love my tattoos. I love my style.

4. I'm thankful for books. I read a bit this Thanksgiving and the following weekend, and I can't tell you enough how much I enjoy a good book. I love to sit in my rocking chair and read, drinking some tea (or beer) and letting the cat sit on my blanketed lap and keep my legs warm. It's peaceful and exciting at the same tome, which not many things are, and I am blessed to have enough money to spend on books, and a reading family to let me borrow theirs.

5. I'm thankful for my friends. Really, I'm thankful right now for my friend, J, the girl I blogged about a while back. She and I haven't been close like we were in the beginning, but she's been amazingly good to me none the less, and has really gone outside her boundaries to be there for me. She feels like a sister to me, and I am so thankful to have found her. She feels like a soul mate, and I've never had one of those before, and even though typing that sounds asinine even to me, it's true. I've lucked out really, and am grateful that she's here.

Live blogging, Rosary style

2009-11-20T09:22:00.000-08:00

I'm at a Catholic service right now, blogging from my phone as I sit in the coach (that's what us funeral home floks call a hearse). I am working with a part-timer, an older guy (prob 67 or so) who works services for us often, and is just the slightest bit of a dirty old man, but its always mixed with just enough southern gentleman to make him bearable. Actually, he's one of the few people at work that allows me to lift caskets without making comments about how men should be the ones doing that stuff, and that I might hurt my baby maker if I keep with all the lifting (yes, they really say baby maker). Anyway, the service is a 9 am Rosary, which is underway now, and a 10 am Mass, followed by a trip to the cemetery. The guy I'm working with suggested that I go sit in the coach once the Rosary started, as it is cold-ish (well, it never gets too cold here, even in the winter it's rare for it to get below freezing overnight), and I'm wearing a skirt, so I decided to be a baby and do just that. So, here I sit, waiting for the Rosary to finish, drinking coffee in a hearse (don't tell the boss), wishing I had a donut.

Drinks with my sister, or, In which I get hit on by the waitress

2009-11-18T15:28:00.001-08:00

Last night my sister and daughter and I went out for some beers (not for my daughter, she had water). There’s a little town just a little ways away from the city I live in, and they have a pizza place with tons of beers on tap and even more bottled, and my sister and I like to go anytime I am husbandless. We’ve only recently started going to this place, but we love it and even though it’s a bit of a drive (but not too bad, the little town is practically part of the city I live in) I think we are quickly becoming regulars.

So, we sit down in a booth that Clem (my daughter) picked out, and this super-adorable, butch-y server gets us some menus and says, “Back for some more torture?” She had been our waitress once before, about a month ago, and apparently remembered us (two hot chicks and a cute kid, I’d remember us too). She got us some beers that she thought we’d like (she was right) and would stop by the table every so often to flirt and let me charm her socks off, especially once she found out that I’m a mortician. Close to the beginning of the evening she pointed out the way I was dressed (skirt and matching vest; white, high-collared, button-down shirt; pantyhose and four inch heels (hot, right?)), and asked what I do for a living (I said mortician just as she started to ask if I was a paralegal or some shit, LOL). Apparently her sister always tells people that she’s a mortician just for kicks, and through the conversation we had about her sister I learned that my super-cute waitress is 24 years old (and just barely that). We continued the flirty banter throughout the evening, and I finally asked her why she works in the little (more conservative) town when she could get a job working in my (much larger and accepting of the lesbians) town instead. Here’s our convo (or what I remember the conversation going like):

Waitress: I’d get in a lot more trouble working there than I do here.
Me: What kind of trouble?
W: Well, let me just say, I like them married.
Then she WINKED and walked away.

Or something like that

So, yeah, she’s totally warm for my form, right? Maybe I’m not as old looking as I thought I was, or maybe she likes the girls that are almost thirty…

Jewish Services

2009-11-18T11:25:00.000-08:00

So, I don't know how many of my reader friends are Jewish, or even have many Jews in their community, but this past month I've had two Jewish funerals, and let me tell you: they are not easy.

So, Jews, Orthodox Jews in particular, have rules about burial, like, not just traditions, but rules. When one dies, the interment (burial) must be within 24 hours (as long as that's possible), not counting the Sabbath (sundown Friday to sundown Saturday) on which it is forbidden to do work pertaining to the funeral arrangements. This can be a bit hectic, especially when the deceased's doctor isn't Jewish, as they don't always cooperate with the funeral home in how quickly they do the death certificate paperwork (which is necessary for burial to take place). The evening before burial (the day of the death) the body must be bathed and shrouded, then placed in an Orthodox casket, called an Aron, which is always a wooden casket with no metal or animal-based glues, and usually has holes in the bottom (to aid in decomposition of the remains) and a Star of David on the lid.

So, the bathing ritual takes place in the embalming room, so I have to make sure it's extra clean, and I have to take down the crucifix that I always have hanging above the sink, and get out protective gowns, shoe covers, gloves, etc. for the people to wear that come in to do the bathing. The ceremony is done by four members of the Synegauge that are of the same sex as the deceased, and I have never watched it, I feel out of place when they start chanting in Hebrew, but I do pop my head in every once in a while to make sure they don't need anything. It takes about three hours, and when the bathing/praying/shrouding is done we all put the deceased in the Aron. There are candles that get light when the bathing ceremony is taking place, ones that look a lot like the Catholic ones, but instead of Jesus they are decorated with a Star of David and words in Hebrew. THe candle is to stay with the remains before they are buried, lit the whole time, and then after the burial they are taken by the surving family members and burned for another 6 days at home.

At the time of the death (if the Rabbi is there) the Rabbi tears the clothing of the family members. The clothing is then worn for a week to remind the family to grieve. If family members weren't present at the death their clothing is torn at the graveside.

The attendees at the burial all help shovel the earth into the plot once the Aron is lowered into the ground, and that's it.

It doesn't seem like as much work as it really was, rereading the post, but I promise, it was stressful.

Friday Question-fest

2009-11-13T10:37:00.000-08:00

Question from Jenn:
Also, most of us like to think of death as a nice, quiet passing; but there are those that pass quite violently (car accidents, buildings collapse, airplane crashes) how does that differ? Have you ever encountered anything so horrific that you couldn't stand it?

It's strange I suppose, but the horrifying part of dying is usually okay with me. There have been auto accidents that have been very scary looking when the body reaches me, with the re-building of the skull alone taking a whole day, and the actual face taking a lot longer. A few suicides have also been quite the projects, shotguns are very damaging. The worst looking cases (and most likely that I cannot help them) are usually drowning victims that don't get removed from the water quickly. We call them floaters, and the water makes them decompose very quickly, and they smell awful and look even worse. But really, I haven't ever had a case that I couldn't work on because it was too gross, I actually like the gross ones, they give me something to do.

And IT asked:
Do funeral homes charge like a corkage fee if somebody already has casket that they bought from Walmart or Costco?

LoL. It's actually illegal to charge a casket handling fee, but funeral homes get around it by either offering package pricing when a family buys a casket from them and then itemizing their service fees if the casket is purchased elsewhere, or by raising their service fees and lowering casket prices so that they get the money anyway. Costco has been selling caskets for a while now, and I have only encountered a family using them twice, so I'm not really sure how well they're doing with the whole thing, and just as a side note: the caskets offered now by Walmart are made by the same company as the Costco ones.

And a last one from RIC Girl:
I have a question about facial reconstruction. Can you explain how you disguise bad cuts, broken bones or areas of the face that are shattered? How about the smells involved with the whole embalming process? Is it something you get used to?

As for facial abrasions, it depends a lot on the type of wound. No matter what the hole is stitched up, I usually use dental floss (white, mint). It's very strong, and thick enough not to rip through and tear the skin when pulled tightly enough to close a gaping facial wound, but not heavy like the string I ues to stitch up the embalming incision(s), and it smells nice. Anyway, if part of the skin is missing i bring the two (or more) sides together as much as possible when I stitch it up without pulling too hard so that the skin looks too tight. That way there is floss going across the hole, giving the stuff I use to fill the hole up with something to hold on to. once its all stitched I dry the tissue really well with a chemical, and I can then start rebuilding. The product I like to use the most for that sort of thing is called "Easy Way" (I know, totally lame name) and is made by a chemical company called Dodge (I think they're out of Massachusetts (wow, I don't think I would have EVER been able to spell that state n my own)). The Easy Way is a powder and a liquid that I mix together when I'm ready to use it, and I can make it any consistency I need. I usually make it a little more pliable than modeling wax, and stick it where I need it. If I'm using it to fill a hole I just sculpt it to fit the surrounding tissue, and smooth it over using a paint brush and a chemical called "Dry Wash II" something a lot like nail polish remover, that allows the brush to glide over the Easy Way and not stick to it. When the Easy Way looks the way I want it to I cover it with some of the powder in the mixture and let it sit for a bit. I can add layer after layer to build up features (like a nose or lip, or something like the brow bone or cheekbone if it wasn't able to be rebuilt from the underside) after the underneath layers dry and become hard if I need to. When Easy Way first came out it was hard to work with, but I kept at it, and now I like it much more than the wax clays we used for eons before the Easy Way came along. I've been trying to teach Jane to use it as well, but she's old and set in her ways (and she usually hires me to do reconstructions anyway). Once the features are the way I want them I use make-up over them, and then apply any hair that might need to be there (eyebrows/eyelashes are common things that need to be replaced in accident victims).

As for the smells, yeah, they're gross, and I'll admit, I have gagged a time or two, but they really don't bother me too often. Don't get me wrong, I dont adore the smell of decomposing flesh, or the smell of viscera on an autopsied case (imagine what rotting feces would smell like), but it's just part of the job. Same thing for the smells of the chemicals, I just kinda have to bear them, so I do.

Children and Babies

2009-11-10T16:49:00.000-08:00

So, I've been really thinking about the questions regarding children, and I have a few different answers. People usually want to know how I work on children and babies, like how I don't just cry and cry when I work on them, but they never really ask about the process and how it differs from that of adults, and I'd like to cover all of that here.

Children and babies have higher fat content in their bodies than normal adults, which makes it harder for the bodies of children to embalm as well as an adult since embalming relies on fixing proteins (muscle). Fat people are a lot the same, the tissue just doesn't "fix" (get firm) as well as in bodies of someone with less fat. In order to compensate for the higher fat content we usually use stronger formaldehyde content, but that can lead to tissue becoming dehydrated more quickly than in a "normal" case. with children I try to use the stronger fluid mixed with humectant chemicals, which, if I try to explain, is like injecting them with lotion so as to moisturize the tissue from the inside.

With babies, especially with fetal deaths that were premature, sometimes it isn't possible to embalm them using the arterial system, as it is not developed enough to do much good, and their skin is so underdeveloped that it tears easily and is hard to stitch up any injection site. In cases like that we normally "pack" them, which means we wrap the baby in cotton and saturate the cotton with embalming fluid, and let the body sit for a day or two.

So that's the technical aspect.

As to the emotional side of things, that's a lot harder to answer. It wasn't until recently, in dealing with the homicide of a young child, that I had any emotional issues with the death of children. I don't mean to sound like I am cold, or unfeeling, but I am fairly good at understanding that people, even children and babies, die. I don't feel like it's fair, and I don't think that I feel like it has to be fair, and I know that me doing a good job, whether it be meeting with the family of a dead child, or embalming them, that it will help a grieving family, and that helps me tremendously. Usually when a child dies it is because of an accident, or maybe a long-standing illness, and while families have questions about why their child had to be the one to die, I don't tend toward those thoughts. But then, with the homicide case a little while ago, I was shaken. I cried when the case got to the funeral home. I sobbed, I was uncontrollable. I didn't understand. I still don't. I cried when I met with the family. I cried at the service. I cried as I attemped to make the little body look like it hadn't suffered. I cried to my mom, and my friends, and was just not myself. I still don't sleep well, waking to thoughts and images of the little body.

So, that's what took me so long to post.

Questions of the day, Jenn edition

2009-10-30T14:52:00.000-07:00

So here are Jenn's questions, and my answers. Keep in mind that different morticians do things differently, so my answers might not be true to what your local funeral professional does.

1. Do the bodies ever move or twitch or make noise (groans, etc.)? Yes and no. When someone dies there is no twitching or moving of the limbs and what have you. They might move a little because their muscles have completely relaxed (eyelids open, mouth opens, arms relax, etc.), but there are no other motions made by them. They can, however, make noise, usually because of air trapped in their lungs that releases, especially when we move them from their place of death onto a gurney. The air will kind of just come out, sounding like a heavy sigh. The first time that happened to me I took the guy's pulse to make sure he was dead. He was.

2. Do you really put a plug in the rectum to stop "leakage"? Yes, sometimes. The plug is actually called an A/V plug (anal/vaginal), and looks like this:

It screws into the cavity (after embalming), and first I fill it with absorbent powder (the one in the photo is a bit different than the ones I like to use, the ones I like have a larger area to put powder into). It isn't the best part of the job, but it's better than sewing the anus or vagina shut (very hard to do effectively) and WAY better than having stuff leak out of their body.

3. Do you really sew the eyes closed and/or wire the jaw closed? Kinda. With the eyes I use things called eye caps, which look like contact lenses made out of plastic, with tiny raised spots on them to "hold" the eyelid down, shown here:

The ones I use are clear, and they are placed on the eyeball before embalming. This keeps the eyes closed during embalming, and after the embalming the tissue is hard enough that the eyelids don't open easily. Just as an added precaution though I use a dot of glue on the eyelid to make sure that there isn't any chance the lid could open during a viewing (due to the dehydration and shrinking of the eyelid tissue, not because people try to pry eyes open all the time).

As for the mouth, the other embalmers I work with wire the jaw shut using things called injector needles, wires with a little barb on the end that embeds into the gum tissue, one on the top and one on the bottom, and intertwine those two together, closing the mouth. I don't like the barbs though, they seem mean, even if they are easy, so I sew the jaw shut (my husband thinks it's crazy that I don't have any issues sewing a mouth shut but won't use a needle injector (the instrument used to force the barbs into the gums)). I might have to work on a diagram to explain how I sew it, I guarantee it isn't the way you are thinking it is done. Maybe I'll work on that this weekend, or see if I have a book with an illustration of it.

4. Do the muscles relax when you pass and you poo and pee? Yes, but most of the time that is taken care of during embalming. Not only do a lot of the people that die have on some sort of adult diaper, but they are also on diets that consist of water and IV nutrients, so they don't have much to excrete (gross) anyway. And one of the things I do during (after) embalming is called aspirating, in which i take a trocar (a long "needle" of sorts, about two feet long) and puncture the stomach and suck out anything trapped in the organs (poo, pee, blood, bile, etc) and drain it, and put in extra strong formaldehyde to embalm those organs well.

So, let me know what else you have...

Busy girl

2009-10-29T16:35:00.000-07:00

I was a busy busy bee today. Tank is out of town so I have been meeting with more families than usual and have had to be the one to approve all the cremations before they leave our facility to be cremated. Jane is also out of town, but I've been to busy with other stuff to do the embalmings today so I called in a part-timer to come do them for us. Actually, I am kinda glad I didn't have to embalm today, it's been getting cooler and I am one of those people that's constantly cold anyway, so I just freeze in the prep room.

J checked on me last night and I told her that I was really hurt and sad, but that I would be here whenever she sorted all her stuff out. It was wonderful to hear the relief in her voice, I think she has been worried that I would hate her, and today she texted to let me know how much better today has been for her compared with this last week. It just might mean progress, folks.

One thing I wondered: Is there anything you want to know about my job? If not that's fine, I'll keep posting the happenings, but if there's something you wonder you can ask and if I know the answer I will tell you.

What a way to go

2009-10-26T11:30:00.000-07:00

So, Buffy is working on death certificates for people that died over the weekend and got one with diarrhea listed as a cause of death. I was certain that the handwriting must just be difficult to read, as who has ever heard of that killing a person? Turns out that it was not the handwriting that was wrong. Diarrhea really is the cause of death. So, that's something new.

On another note: I had a bummer weekend. I saw J at church on Sunday and felt awkward. She looked great, and we talked a little. I was on my best behavior so as not to let her know how hurt and angry I am, that wouldn't be helpful for her right now. Anyway, that's it for now.

Long day

2009-10-23T14:58:00.000-07:00

I am in quite a mood today, and need to let go of a few things that I just don't have anyone to let them go to, so you guys are stuck being my outlet.

This post will not be funeral-related.

I met a girl at church a while back. Background about my church experience: I have always gone because it's the right thing to do. I don't have any sort of attachment to the church other than for social reasons for the most part. Anyway, this girl, J, was introduced to me by a church member that I know, one who has gone to my church for years and who had said I just had to meet J, as she knew we would hit it off. Well, she was right, and J and I have become close recently.

Background on J: She's a few years younger than I am. She started going to my church a couple of years back, and had never been a church person before. Actually, she was kinda heavy into drugs I guess, and drinking, and dated a few (or more) women, as well as men. She stopped with the drugs and drinking and the sexing of the ladies a short time after starting to attend my church, and has really been quite the Christian. Now, I'm not really sure about all the "relationship with God" stuff, and I don't think I'm big on denying one's sexual preference, but she knows herself better than I do, and she is very happy with the changes that have taken place. She had a boyfriend up until about a week ago, and things were fine with him (I'll get to that part later), and she's really just generally awesome.

So, she and I had been texting and having a blast, and one night about a month ago I asked her if she wanted to come over and hang out (my hubby was out at a poker game, and my sister was over). She said that she'd come by after she dropped her boyfriend off that evening. Anyway, she got to my place just after my sister left, and we hung out for a couple of hours, in which time her boyfriend texted her asking her where she was. She told him that she was at my place, and he kinda flipped (to his credit though, she hadn't told him she was coming over and then lied when he asked if she had been planning to come by before she had dropped him off for the night). So, from his perspective I can totally see what he saw: his girl (whom he knows has an affinity for women(I think)) hanging out at another girl's house (one he has only met once, and who is super milf-y) and lying about the situation, obviously because something shady (his own word) was taking place. So, I think he told her she wasn't to be my friend anymore.

*cue drama*

She and I were both devastated. She was angry at herself for lying to him in the first place, and couldn't figure out why she had. There hadn't been anything going on. It made no sense. She was mad at the boyfriend (as was I) for making her hurt me (and I was hurt. Actually, I cried. Like a baby. Not a common thing, fyi). She was confused (aren't you?) and tired.

About a week of not talking to each other went by and then we started chatting again. She had told her boyfriend that it just wasn't right (or something), that she wanted to be my friend and that she was mad at him for denying her that opportunity. I was elated. She and I had a blast. We got to have lunches together again, and could talk on the phone, and all the stuff that had been missing. We've been inseparable.

Then, last week her boyfriend dumped her. I'm still actually confused by that. You should see her for one thing, she's absolutely adorable, and he really isn't. Not that looks should be a basis of a good fit for a couple, but I'm just sayin'. And the whole break-up went well, at least from my perspective, J said that it just wasn't God's will that they be together. Very peaceful about it even (from the perspective of someone who isn't actually involved).

So, we still hung out, and chatted all the time, and it's been great. Until yesterday. Last night she came over and we talked for a long time on the couch. I complained about work and stuff, and we laughed and were our normal selves, and she said that we are gonna have to cool it for a while. She said that she wants to be more than friends, and she can't let herself go there, and all of the hanging out and knowing everything about each other and having a blast was awesome, but couldn't continue. And instead of doing the 'I want whats best for my friend' thing I sat there and cried. So here she is, being honest with me, and here I am crying and feeling like I have to be able to do something to fix it all, which I couldn't. I only cried for a minute though (like it matters, right?) and she said goodbye and left.

My phone has never seemed so silent, and I feel broken and hurt and tired and alone.

Why does it bother me so much?

2009-10-22T16:22:00.001-07:00

Manager says to me earlier this week: I wonder how many of the bodies run through here go to Hell. *chuckle*

I can't stop thinking about it.

In which I sound like a crazy person

2009-10-16T09:08:00.001-07:00

I forgot what it was like to embalm a warm body.

We are really busy this week, there have been quite a few deaths and I’ve had bodies to get ready left and right. It seems that everyone else is busy too, and because of that Jane wasn’t able to embalm this little old lady that died. Actually, I had been one of the ones to go pick her up from her home when she died, and so when I got back to the funeral home I got started embalming. Now, you would think that getting a warm body in the funeral home would be super common, and it is definitely something that happens, but really not often. Usually people die in hospitals and are refrigerated, or in an accident and the medical examiner refrigerated them til the autopsy is done, or they die at night and are brought to the funeral home right away and refrigerated until morning when we all show up. So, this lady was sorta an exception, and I didn’t realize that I had forgotten the feeling of embalming a warm body until I felt her blood on my (gloved) hands. As I type that I think it sounds creepy, and I assure you I am not (too) creepy, I just was a bit stunned at this feeling I hadn’t felt in so long.

It feels like warm water, but a bit slipperier than water. Like soapy water I guess. And it was really amazing, the way it felt, and to feel it cool down as the embalming fluid pushed its way through her little body and back out again a while later. So, that’s it.

Mortuary Color Wheel

2009-10-13T14:29:00.000-07:00

I got a cool color wheel today for the prep room. It shows what kind of base color to use on cases that require a lot of cosmetics according to the color they were when one first applies the cosmetics. The colors are even named with the most common types of reasons they would be that color. Excited? Yes, yes I am.

This week in a nutshell

2009-10-09T10:21:00.001-07:00

So, a good friend of mine isn’t speaking to me.

Big Bird is making me want to kill a b****. All week she’s been riding my ass about any little nit-picky thing she can come up with. Then, to top it off her dad had a stroke yesterday and she had to leave to go to the hospital with her mom and so I feel bad for hating her. I even called her cell last night to see if I could bring them some dinner (she said no, but thanked me anyway), and I can’t figure out why I did that. I really am not that nice of a person.

Whatever, she’s back at work today, and my friend still isn’t speaking to me, and I’m on call this weekend, so… Here goes it I guess.

I'm having a shitty week

2009-10-07T17:02:00.000-07:00

Check back in a coupla days...

Ten little fingers and ten little toes

2009-10-02T16:42:00.001-07:00

I embalmed a baby today. It was a full-term stillbirth. That will always be one of the more strange aspects of my job. It doesn’t make me sad per se, but it is a very odd thing, to embalm a little baby. They are so delicate and small, and I am glad when I am the one that gets to be their embalmer. It makes me feel important and motherly.

Music, physicals and pacemakers

2009-09-30T10:08:00.000-07:00

I brought in some cds from home today to put on my itunes at work. I like to listen to music quietly when I have paperwork to do, and was in the mood for some oldies, so I grabbed two Grateful Dead compilations, Simon and Garfunkel’s greatest hits, Bob Dylan’s greatest hits, and an Etta James cd. All but the last one were gifts from my dad for Christmas when I was in high school, and I don’t listen to them too often, so it’s a nice break from the usual tunes that I hear.

I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday for a physical, and the doc noticed that I’m overdue for a tetanus booster, so my left arm is sore today and will be tomorrow too. Other than that he said I look great, my favorite quote from him being, “I’ll spare you the anal seeing as you’re under 40. You don’t have any rectal bleeding or discomfort, right?”

Work is steady, not anything particularly interesting to write about. I did remove a pacemaker though, but it is a very boring procedure. Just to inform those of you that don’t know: pacemakers are removed before one is cremated, as the battery that operates them will explode when heated.

Bones

2009-09-28T12:36:00.000-07:00

I have mad love for the show Bones, but I have a little issue. We tivo-ed last week's episode, and I was watching it this weekend, and this is what I have to say: Eyeballs decompose quickly after death, or, at least, the fluid inside them deminishes quickly, and an unrefrigerated or unembalmed body will have very sunken eyes within a day. The episode from ladt week had a dead body in the trunk and the face was bacly rotting, but there were these perfectly round eyeballs in it. There have been a few other issues I have had with the show, but that is to be expected from Hollywood every now and then. The thing that bothers me about the eyeballs is that it was such an obvious mistake. I laughed out loud when I saw it even. Any mortician, or probably even anyone that works in a hospital should be able to point that out. ANyway, I'm not boycotting the show or anything, but just was a little annoyed.

Yay, Friday!!!

2009-09-25T16:49:00.000-07:00

Just a quick post to say "happy weekend." Not much today to report, other than that I saw a guy at a funeral today that had what I can only describe as the anti-Hitler moustache. The middle was shaved, but the sides were there. Very odd...

Cameras in the bathrooms even

2009-09-24T11:01:00.000-07:00

We’re having security cameras installed at the funeral home this week. The technician has been working around our services to get them installed and running. We’ve had one in the chapel for a long time so that we could watch the services going on and know when to cue music and stuff, but the boss wanted to replace it and put a few more around the building. The technician was working in the chapel yesterday and I was there working on a body and he just couldn’t believe that I had no problems working on a body. It’s so funny sometimes the way people think about certain jobs. I mean, do people really think that the line of work they are in is what everyone should be doing?

On another note: I’ve noticed that some people have found this blog because it comes up when they google “funeral poems.” Now, I don’t have any funeral poems listed here, except for the squiggly line one from Family Guy, but I’m thinking about putting a link here to some of the funeral poems that I use in the mortuary, and then that way people that find this site for that reason wont be bummed that my blog has nothing of use to them.

Getting ready to view

2009-09-22T10:16:00.000-07:00

Here’s something the general public doesn’t realize: It takes a long time to get someone in the casket properly. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure there are tons of funeral homes that are lax about their rules on how a decedent should look in the casket, but I’m picky. Monica and I just spent the better part of an hour getting a man ready after he was dressed and in his casket. We positioned him right, he looked to have his chin touching his chest so we put Styrofoam blocks under his shoulder blades to make his head tilt backward a bit more, then we raised up the head end of the bed of the casket (a large number of caskets have the ability to raise and lower the “mattress” that the deceased is laying on) so that his head was a bit higher. His make-up was fine, none needed really except for moisturizing cream (the skin dehydrates fairly quickly so we use cream to avoid the effects that dehydration cause), and his hands were okay, but the pillow, overlay (#6 in image below) and the inside material all took a bit of adjustment so that they go unnoticed when visitation is going on.

So, that’s what I’ve been up to so far this morning.

A little of everything

2009-09-21T12:19:00.000-07:00

Big Bird is on vacation for a couple of days, so the atmosphere in the office is much more relaxed. We have a bit of work to do today, I have already met with one family today, as has Monica, and there are two more families to come in later. We also had a service this morning and another this afternoon, but for as busy as we are no one is too stressed about it, with Big Bird not here cracking the whip every five minutes.

My weekend was nice. I worked a bit on Saturday at a service in the chapel for a family I had met with. It was a memorial service and was well-attended, and the service went smoothly. Monica was the director on call and she was in the office meeting with a family, and she was happy to see me when she came out of the arrangement room into the office. She looked adorable, wearing a see-through, high collared cream blouse with one of those big, flouncy bows at the neckline, something that looked like it came from my wardrobe, and when I commented on how cute the top was she said that my vampire-esque wardrobe had inspired her. Pretty funny I thought, and I asked how she knows that vampires wear those Victorian type shirts and she just laughed, saying that she just imagines that they look that way and that I remind her of one when I wear those shirts. I’m not sure why, but I thought it was very funny. Anyhoo, her new family that she had just finished arrangements with was going to want viewing, and Monica didn’t want to wait until Monday to pick the body up at the hospital, but didn’t want to have to pay a service to get the body so that we could embalm it right away, so I told her to grab her purse and we’d go get the body ourselves from the hospital. The morgue tech was pleased to see us, and asked us to come back soon. I just smiled and told him that with faces this pretty the boss doesn’t like us in the morgues, but that he was welcome to stop by the funeral home anytime and we’d be happy to smile for him.

When I got home I fed the hubby and daughter lunch and put Clementine to bed for a nap. The hubby then said that I should go get a mani-pedi (which is sooooo not like me), and gave me fifty bucks to pay for it. Gotta love a gambler when he wins, right?

Saturday night we had dinner at a good friend’s house and Clem played with the toys for the baby they are adopting soon. She says she’s testing them out to make sure they are okay for the baby. Very odd. But it was fun, and Saturday night my mom had Clem spend the night so that hubby and I could go out drinking and then sleep in on Sunday, which we did.

So, that’s really it, Sunday was boring, just chilled at home and did laundry.

Now I’m just sitting in the office listening to Buck tell Buffy how it’s important to allow for windage. “The bullet and the (derogatory term used in the Vietnam War) have to meet up at the same time. If you aren’t going to reach it at the same time then what’s the use.” To which I responded that it sounded more like sexual advice than military advice. He told me to settle down and then reconsidered, “Well, now, Doll, I think you might be right.”

Gypsy update

2009-09-19T11:12:00.001-07:00

So, the Gypsies were quite fun. The graveside service was postponed so that more beer could be purchased and more weed could be smoked. The service itself was nice (highlight: a three year old flipped off another child that was annoying her), and afterward wine was shared and the funeral directors were all made honorary Gypsies, and one of the funeral goers taught us all how to pick a pocket. After the casket went into the ground they threw money in on top of the casket, and the coins were loud when they hit the bottom. It really was a nice service, and the Gypsies seemed pleased with everything, which is good because I have a feeling they aren’t the types of folks one wants to make angry…

Gypsy service

2009-09-17T13:19:00.001-07:00

Gypsies are funny folks. In mortuary school we are taught about many different groups of people, and Gypsies were one of those groups. I didn’t really pay that much attention to the specifics of their services, mostly because I didn’t think I’d ever do a Gypsy service, and now I’m kicking myself. We have a Gypsy service this week, and I’ll tell you what: those are some different customs. There are tents in the parking lot, and everyone is drinking all the time. There is to be beer at the cemetery, and Lord knows how the casket bearers are going to haul the casket to the gravesite, full of everything you can imagine: money, jewelry, clothes, good liquor, you name it. They don’t want to touch the deceased either. I asked one girl about it, she said the spirit stays here and that they can’t make it mad, to will seek revenge or something on them if they aren’t good to the human remains. They won’t say the name of the deceased either. Anyway, I’ll update if anything happens…

Sweaty girl

2009-09-16T17:34:00.000-07:00

My hubby bought me this spa package gift certificate a few months back for me, one of these promotional deals where you get four appointments and choose from a list of services what you want for each. The first one was a haircut, the second was a massage, and last night I had the third one which I chose an infra-red body wrap. I wasn’t too sure what that was, and they told me that it was a weight-loss thing that takes about 45 minutes. So I thought I’d try it and it turns out it is awful. First they had me take my clothes off and put on men’s thermal underwear. They had me lay down on a table, the kind like they use for massage, and they wrapped these things around me, plastic mat type things, all around my boobs (um, I don’t really want to loose weight there), stomach, thighs and arms. They weren’t uncomfortable, just a bit heavy, and they were wired to a machine in the room. Then the gal put a blanket over me, up to my stomach, got me a glass of water, turned on the fan in the room, and turned on the infra-red machine. She said she would come back and check on me every 10 minutes (which made me wonder: why is that necessary?), and told me I was welcome to read the magazines next to my glass of water (which I couldn’t get to as the wraps were quite binding). So, it was getting warmer in the wraps, but wasn’t unbearable, until about the seventh minute. It was so uncomfortably hot I thought I would cook and she would come in and find me barbecued to the table. I was determined though to make it through this thing, which I did (although I wonder now if I’m not a tad slower in the mind because of it), but not before sweating like a fat man in a marathon. It was disgusting how soaked the long underwear were with my sweat. I’m wondering now how all that moisture didn’t ruin the wires connected to the wraps. So, that is what I did last night, and to top it off the Hooter’s was too busy to seat my sister, daughter and me right away, so the fried pickles I wanted (and had worked off enough poundage to cover) had to go uneaten.

Three cheers for my boss

2009-09-14T10:11:00.001-07:00

Friday morning as the hubby was dropping me off at work I noticed that the engine was overly hot, so instead of him letting me out and taking off he parked the car and opened the hood to check the coolant and stuff. The owner of my funeral home noticed and came up to the car and talked to my hubby (who was now going to be late to work, which is fine, just a pain in the ass) to see what was wrong. Within about five minutes they had decided that the car would need to go in to a shop, and my boss told my husband where to take it, and then told him that one of my coworkers would follow him to the car place, pick him up to come back to my funeral home, then let my hubby take the company Suburban to work for the day. I should mention that this Suburban is the boss’ baby, with nice chrome wheels and pretty interior, and is seldom used for work (21,000 miles on it and it’s a 2005). Anyway, the hubby says thank you and heads off to work. The owner knew I was on call that weekend, and I assured him that between my parents and sisters that I would have reliable transportation the whole weekend (and I could even drive our ’59, just not with my daughter as there are no seat belts) and he insisted on me taking the Suburban home for weekend use. He gave me a little lecture on mot parking close to other cars and not getting the tires close to curbs, and that was that. The hubby brought a nice bottle of vodka for my boss when he came to pick me up Friday after work, and my boss told me that he didn’t think we should have given him anything, saying “That’s just what you do for family. You could use a hand, and it just so happened that I could lend one.”

So, this is what I learned: My boss is awesome. Volkswagens are expensive to fix. Suburbans are crazy-big.

Make-up and jaundice

2009-09-11T11:59:00.000-07:00

Jane embalms at another funeral home as well as embalming for us, and this week she had quite a few cases at the other funeral home. Wednesday she called me at 5 to ask if I could come help her with make-up after I left work. Now, I know you’re probably thinking, “She needed help with make-up? Obviously she isn’t that good at her job.” Well, that isn’t the case. The deceased had been very jaundiced before dying, and the yellow bile in the body doesn’t just wash away with embalming. Actually, the fluid we use to embalm most cases is formaldehyde based, and it turns out that yellow bile, as in jaundice cases, turns a vivid green color when exposed to formaldehyde. Some embalmers will use other fluids (like gluteraldehyde) on jaundiced cases so that it wont turn them green, but the quality of embalming is lessened when that is done, so Jane and I like to turn them green, and make-up the after-color with mortuary cosmetics (quite a bit different than the stuff we buy at Target), which is what she wanted me to do with the case at the other mortuary. She is almost as good as I am at coloring and restorative art, and she would have done the make-up herself, but she wanted to get started embalming a car accident victim, and I was more than happy to do the cosmetics. So, it only took me about an hour (re-drawing in her freckles is what took most of the time) and she looked great. Jane was pleased, and I chatted with her while she worked on the accident girl, and I played with the deceased’s features a bit to see what looked the most natural, and did a bit of work on her hair, attempting to get the bits of twigs and windshield glass out of it.

Anyway, Jane just called me (btw, I downloaded the NFL theme song as my ring tone and the guys at work love it, so I had to Bluetooth it to all of them and they love when we get calls on our cells) to let me know that the family of the jaundiced girl thought she looked amazing and wanted to know if I could come by the mortuary so they could meet me and thank me personally, so that has brightened my day considerably. She told them that I work for a different funeral home so I wouldn’t be able to stop by, but told them that she would pass along the kind words. She also asked if I would be available to do the make-up on the accident girl she had been embalming the night I was doing jaundice’s make-up. So, I told her that wouldn’t be a problem since my hubby and daughter are going to be out of town and I didn’t have anything to do tonight as of yet. And I guess the other funeral home is super-pleased with my work so far, and luckily I have a boss that lets me work for the competition if they need my expertise. Yay!!

Last week

2009-09-07T20:50:00.000-07:00

I had a suicide family this past week. Parents of a twenty-something that had hung himself came in to make arrangements for his funeral. It's always strange, making those kinds of arrangements, as I always want to ask questions about things that I have no business asking. I never do, but i always want to. His parents were nice, and the arrangements were done quickly. I sent a driver to pick up the body from the medical examiner's office and he came back with personal property as well, a wallet and a coupla pieces of jewelry. Inside the wallet was a fast-food receipt, and according to the death certificate the boy had been to eat shortly before his hour of death. It made me wonder: did he know that was his last meal?

His parents were fairly numb in the funeral home, probably in shock. Did he know what they would go through? Had he even talked to them recently? There are quite a few things that I'm fairly certain will always be strange to me in this line of work, things that I will never quite get used to. I don't really mind the thought of taking your own life, but there is something about a parent having to go through the funeral of their own child that just always makes me... I don't really know, but it just seems like the worst kind of pain possible. And, maybe I'm way off, I've been fairly sheltered at least where pain is concerned (both emotional and physical), but it seems like that would be the worst.

Reuniting

2009-09-02T09:12:00.000-07:00

I was grocery shopping last night and ran into a couple that recognized from the funeral home. They are in their late fifties or early sixties, and their son had been found hanged in a tree on the side of a freeway in an apparent suicide. He was decomposed fairly badly when he was found, had probably been dead for a week. His parents recognized me there in the supermarket, I was the director they dealt with, and they came up to me and said hi. They complimented me on my tattoo even (old people are funny) and told me that it was nice to see me. The dad said that his son’s cremated remains were still in his truck (I commented that everyone needs a copilot sometimes and he laughed), because every time they wanted to go scatter them in the wilderness they couldn’t, just wanting to spend a little more time with their son, who had not really been in contact with them at the time of his death. Actually, I’m fairly certain that the son was homeless when he died. So, we chatted for a while, turns out they live near me, and I told them to keep their eye out for me riding my bike with my daughter in the trailer behind, and honk if they ever notice us riding by. Anyway, it was nice. They were really sweet when they were making arrangements, and they are still, and even though I looked frighteningly blah at the store, I’m glad they said hi.

Tissue building

2009-08-31T10:25:00.000-07:00

I got a case ready this morning, an older lady that had been sick a while. Most of the people that die were sick for a while, deaths don’t tend to be sudden, and so a lot of the cases I get ready are a bit thinner than they were most of their lives, especially in their faces. There is a product I use to fix that called tissue builder, and man, this lady took a lot of it this morning. It is used in the same way I imagine collagen injections are, hypodermically. I have quite a few syringes and needles, all made for mortuary use and re-usable, but have been using medical sterile needles lately, mostly because they are really sharp and I can just throw them out when I’m done instead of having to sterilize them.

Most of these older people that die after loosing some weight need their temples filled a bit (it becomes very sunken) and sometimes need their eye area filled (they eyeball can be directly injected) if their eyes seem unusually sunken. This gal today also needed her nose filled out, the bridge and down the dorsum had become very bony-looking, as well as a bit of filling of her lips and chin. Luckily I had a photo of her before she started loosing weight, sometimes (although not often) people are just bony-faced and the filling out of the tissue wouldn’t look natural, and the end result was nice. Her family will be in today around noon to see if they want tonight’s visitation to be open-casket, and although I don’t want to seem cocky, there’s no way they are closing that casket, she looks great.

Mementos

2009-08-26T15:51:00.000-07:00

So, I think I have mentioned before (or not) that every now and then a family asks about a deceased person's gold teeth, wanting to have them removed before they are cremated, because they think the gold in them might be of value. We (the funeral home staff) are not in the business of ripping out teeth however, and we tell those families that they would need to find a dentist to come in and take teeth out for them, and at that point the family shuts up about it and the teeth and their gold are cremated. Well, this week we had a family that asked for something else: the deceased's fingernails. Now, none of us had the guts to ask why the hell they wanted fingernail clippings, so we went to the refrigerator and got them and gave them to the family.

What was that about? Any ideas?

I didn't even remember it myself...

2009-08-25T14:31:00.000-07:00

I got to work today a bit earlier than my boss, Tank. I sat down and checked my work email and looked in my box to see if there was anything to work on (the office opens at 6:30am so a lot of times when I get in at 8 there are already things in my in box to do). Anyway, we are pretty slow so there wasn’t anything to do, so I just worked on my photo project for a bit. Tank finally came in and sat a donut and an envelope in front of me, and I looked up at him very confused.

Me: What’s this?
Tank: It’s a donut. And a card. Open it.
Me: *open the card, have even more confused look on my face*
Tank: You’ve been here a year, it’s your anniversary card. *gets nervous* Do you like it? I got the one that plays music. I didn’t know what kind of donut you like, is that one okay?
Me: *stunned* I LOVE IT, TANK!!! You remembered? Thanks *hugs Tank*
Tank: I guess your probation is over *laughs*

So, that was my morning. I have an anniversary card that plays the theme song from Friends when it opens (Clementine loves those). Pretty nice, huh?

What women can't do

2009-08-24T16:39:00.000-07:00

So, today I was told three different times by three different men that moving bodies wasn't 'woman's work'. um, wha?? so, I'm a little perturbed, and, at the times they were explaining to me that I was not to be moving bodies, was as well. Now, not one of the three men that told me about whose job it was to move the dead knew about the other men that had been telling me (or were going to tell me later in the day), which makes it even worse. This means that they all three think that body moving is solely a mans job (well, sort of. Two of the three think its okay for me to move a body, with the help of another (man) if all other possible men are not available and the body MUST be moved then). And these aren't big, surly, strong guys, just regular (old) guys. And don't get me wrong, I appreciate that they are worried about my frail, feminine body, but come on. I picked mortician as my profession with the knowledge that it would include body moving, even when the body is heavy, or gross, or whatever. It's what I do. And also, the main embalmer is a woman. I don't see them coming in the prep room at all hours helping her move her bodies. Is it that she's like 48? Or larger than I am? Or doesn't wear dresses, and therefore isn't as feminine? I don't get it.

Photo fun

2009-08-21T10:07:00.000-07:00

I've started a project with my sister, my dad and my co-worker, Monica. I had this idea to go around my town taking up-close photos of well-known landmarks/buildings/whatever and post them to a site. then on a certain day at a certain time we will allow the public to view the photos and guess what it is of. When it is correctly guessed the post will change with links to sites about that particular place, as well as a larger photo showing where the close-up came from. Our goal is to have 50 places by October. Monica and I have been taking the camera with us on our lunch breaks, and I sent a funeral director with my camera to a funeral at one of the local old churches just now. The local indie mag is in on it too, they'll publish the details of the search game. Doesn't that sound like fun??

My old car

2009-08-19T09:16:00.000-07:00

I've been searching all through my email to find a photo of my old car, as per TCG's request, and can't seem to find one. Here are a coupla photos of the same car, but mine is a 2 door. Mine is also not as shiny as this one, and is dark brown with a light tan top. It really is a cute little number with push-button transmission. Very cool.
photo source

photo source

Update

2009-08-17T08:54:00.000-07:00

So, I've been a busy bee. Friday I had a big service for the gun-shot victim, and everything went well. The memorial folders turned out better than I could have ever imagined. I wish I could post in here, but I can't so you'll have to take my word for it. The service started at 10 in a church, and we went to the graveside afterward, and I wasn't back in the office until 1:30, so it was a long day in heels and a suit. Monica and I got some lunch after the service at our favorite Mexican joint, and my dad was there having lunch with a co-worker. We chatted and sat at the table next to them. He laughed that he figured I would be there, as he knows how much I love their food, and how close it is to the funeral home.

Saturday the hubby had to work on the rental house so he was out of town and Clementine and I went to a friend's house to swim and bbq. We had an awesome time, very relaxing and the weather was perfect. Did the same thing Sunday, and now have a nice tan.

We have an old car, a 1959 Plymouth that we bought from some friends when they purchased a house and found this old car in the garage. It runs, and we put a nice sound system in it, keeping it all hidden so as not to disturb the look of the car, and we love it, but I think we are going to have to sell it. It is sorta sad, I really love that car, but it has become tough, not being able to put a kid seat in it for Clem, and keeping up on repairs (which really haven't been that bad), and damnit, I just look awesome in it. We might be able to just keep it in storage for a while and not drive it and get a used car cheap that will work for to and from work and all, but who knows. Sometimes I wish I were made of money.

I went to the local indie coffee shop this morning for some coffee. There's a group of old guys that laways sit outside and read while drinking their morning cup and they love me (and the old Plymouth). Today one of them commented on my suit and said that I was as lovely as ever (thank god, I must not be headed downhill yet), but that if he was chosing my uniform it would ba a tight leather number with a bone saw strapped to my thigh. I laughed, but all day have been thinking about how bad-ass that would be (even though I will probably never use a bone saw in this line of work). Makes me wish I could draw super heroes...

About me

2009-08-12T21:49:00.000-07:00

Hair color: Blonde
Eye Color: Green
Height: 5'7"
Weight: Yeah, right
Favorite music: Rap
Favorite food: Mexican
Favorite religion: Catholic
Actual Religion: non-Catholic Christian
Favorite art: Deco
Favorite theme park: Disneyland
Favorite National Park: Yellowstone
Favorite embalming chemical: Triton 28
Favorite embalming instrument: nail file
Favorite embalming stitch: worm
Favorite language: Spanish
Favorite show: Thundercats
Favorite flower: Hair allium
Best sport to play: water polo
Favorite sport to play: Soccer
Favorite sport to watch: Baseball
Best subject in school: Chemistry
Favorite subject in school: Physics
Worst subject in school: Calculus
Favorite beer: Newcastle
Favorite snack: Pepinos con limon y chile
Favorite dinner: Mac n cheese
Bra size: 34 B
Shoe size: 9.5
Rubber glove size: Medium/8
Languages spoken: English, German, Spanish (for the most part), pig Latin

What else do you want to know? Leave it in the comments.

Frack I'm tired

2009-08-12T21:19:00.000-07:00

Today was a bitch.

Yesterday was busy, but not bitchy. Mr. GunshotWoundsToTheHeadAndChest looks great. The bullet to the head did little external damage, the hardest part to make look good was the autopsy incision on his head (he has corn rows, and the coroner cut right through them, making it even more crucial that the halves line up properly). the bullets to the arms, however, were a different story. The bullets were small, or at least I assume they were, as the holes in the skin are not large, I can fit my pinky in but not my thumb, so maybe index finger sized, but a couple of the holes were cut into by the ME (medical examiner) to (I assume) retrieve the bullets. The incisions made by the ME are rarely carefully made, and sometimes can cut into a major artery, which makes embalming a bitch, as it did in the right arm of this guy. The brachial artery was severed in this case, so embalming had to be done using an incision at the interior part of the elbow, injecting fluid both toward the hand and toward the body. It worked, and maybe it would have been done that way anyway, the bullet may have done damage like that, but us embalmers like to think that the ME should just be more careful with bodies.

Anyway, back to today. I got a new case. The deceased was in an auto accident, head and body injuries being the COD (cause of death). He looked bad, the skull alone would take a day or so, and after that maybe four hours of restoration (mainly the nose and forehead), but it was do-able, and after speaking with the family I knew that they wanted a viewing, so I was excited. They came in this afternoon and we talked about cremation after the viewing/service, and they were thinking that it would be nice, and then the third sibling came in and he convinced his brother and sister not to view this guy. Total shit, right? Jane came in and saw the deceased and said that he would be too much work anyway (which I doubt she really meant, she was just tired), but I was determined, and it's one of those times that I just wished that I could embalm him without family consent and teach them all a lesson. Argh.

In which I recap yesterday's events

2009-08-11T10:21:00.000-07:00

I had a very busy work day yesterday. I had a Mass in the morning (I always love the incense they use, Frankincense, and secretly hope that the smell sticks to my clothing so that I can smell it later in the day) and a graveside following at a cemetery in a little outlying town. It was a nice drive out there, and I had the priest with me so we chatted about the weather and the area and where he was from and what it’s like to not have sex ever (just kidding about that part). On my way back I passed by the school where my dad teaches and stopped in to say hi to his co-workers. School isn’t in session yet but teachers were there decorating their classrooms and preparing for the arrival of the students. I went across the street of the school and picked up lunch at this tiny Mexican food spot, one of those ones that you have to know Spanish in order to get anything. The cook there was very impressed with my ability to speak Spanish and we chatted a while about the funeral home (I had on my name tag). I got back to the office about 1:30 and hand a family to meet at 2, and they came early. I met with them for an hour or so and they liked me enough to tell me about Jesus and how I could spend eternity with Him. She also told me that it is wrong to pray to Mary and the saints. Hmm. The rest of the day I finished up some loose ends from this past weekend (I had been on call and there were a few families I met with).

Today I’m not as busy, but I will be embalming a homicide victim this afternoon. Six bullets to the body and one to the head.

Also, Del Mar is well into it's run this year. I have yet to make any money though. I will discuss more of this later.

I am so tired

2009-08-07T12:26:00.000-07:00

The hubby had a gig last night. Two other djs came to town and they played from 9pm to 1am at a local bar. It was fun, I was in charge of taking the money at the door for the first hour or so, then some friends took over so I could shake it on the dance floor. This hot chick came up to me and danced a bit, and after a few minutes she started getting a bit handsy, I was wearing a killer blue dress (imagine Marylin's white dress in navy) and all of a sudden there are hands creeping their way up it. WTF, right? So I turned arround (the chick was dancing on my backside) and asked her what she was doing. Here's the convo:

Hot chick: Oh don't worry, I'm not a lesbian.
Me: What?
HC: I mean, you look hot, but I don't want to date you.
Me: Um, I wans't worried that you were a lesbian, I just dont want my ass hanging out all over the bar, so don't pull up my dress. And I'm married anyway.
HC: Oh, you are? Where is he? He just lets you go to clubs in sexy dresses?
Me (a bit stunned that this hot chick thinks my dress is sexy): Um, he's right over there watching you feel up his wife.
HC: Oh. *waves at my hubby* Will he let you give me your phone number.
Me: Why don't you go ask him?

What just happened there? I'm still confused. Was she hitting on me? I cannot figure it out.

Different topic:
Pete, an olf funeral director here called me up to his office this morning. He told me that his home page was changed and wanted to know why and if I could "fix it back to CNN." So I did that for him and also made a MapQuest bookmark at his request, and I swear to Buddha he thinks I am a computer guru. It's funny, the things that we can do that other generations can't.