Long night

The list from last week? Yeah, I only did one of those things, organize Clem's party. So of course, it is raining today and my windshield wipers aren't working.

My gal and I had a fight last night. There was even yelling. We never have yelling. My eyes are all puffy and I could use a hug. Well, that and a nap. I slept horribly.

I had Clem's parent-teacher conference on Friday. She got all As and her teacher said that other than talking too much, she's doing very well. Apparently, she's just like her mother.

That's really all I've got for today.

Is it really only Tuesday?

So, I'm feeling a lot less depressed.

I had services last week for a 15 year old girl that died. Her parents hadn't been together for a long time, and they don't get along at all, so I was the go-between. They each came in to arrange services separately, and each party had their own visitation/funeral for their daughter. Very odd. Everything went smoothly though, and both the mother and the father complimented the Kid and myself with how wonderfully it went. They both also told me that they were grateful for me dealing with their ex so that they didn't have to. Honestly, they were both pleasant, so it didn't bother me really, except for the extra time. Whatever.

These are my goals this week today:
1. organize a price list for all the funeral programs. Do not stop until it makes sense and looks pretty.
2. get new windshield wipers. My car is suffering. It also needs a bath.
3. organize Clem's 7th birthday party.
4. find and order some cute suspenders.
5. grocery shopping! I don't know why I avoid doing that on weekends when I have time to.

So, we'll see if I can kick it into gear and get stuff done.

Meh

The sun still isn't out.

I'm still kinda down.

I was going to do a lot more with my day than what I've done so far.

I need to just go back to bed.

Short little post

I'm a bit bored today. I don't have any services, so I'm just doing paperwork and it's starting to make me tired. Also, the sun isn't shining today, it's overcast and somewhat gloomy, which makes me feel kinda down.

I got a new tattoo last Sunday and it finally doesn't itch much anymore. It's on the inside of my left arm, and I really like it. I have to go back to get it shaded and it's everything I can do to not want to have him do the shading and start on a new one at the same time. Grrr, they are so addicting.

Clementine is in first grade now. Can you believe? She's a total sass-mouth, but is also fairly sweet. Interestingly, she is into death more than other kids her age, an just the other day she pulled one of her Barbies out of its casket and said, "Look mom, isn't she so well embalmed?" Quite funny.  Her dad and I get along well, he lives close to me, and Clem seems to like that we are still a close family.

Okay, that's all I got right now.

hi

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.

Conversations with my child

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?

Quickie

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...

New friends

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

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

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.

Next on my list...

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.

Weekend

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

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.

I tried to make it less wordy with the photos

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

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

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.

A short list

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.

Staring out the window...

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

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...

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

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