It's Raining Busts, Hallelujah!

For every iPhone fail or ridiculously awesome typo I post, I have about ten of my own. But I wasn't aware all ten of mine could come in one conversation. (Although, as you'll see I was not the only slow one this day. But I was the slowest of them all. Btw, these are from the same convo...yeah.)


Me: How's your week looking? Busty?
Me: LOL
Friend: LOL
Me: Busy*
Friend: That
Friend: Was
Friend: Awwwwesome
Me: LOL. It so was
Friend: Yes, I forsee myself being busty
Me: lol Busty with a chance of, "Mmhmm, you know you want some!"
Friend: LOL
Friend: Like the weather
Me: LOL Uh yeah
Me: Way to catch that
Me: Blog. Worthy.
Friend: lol Shut. Up.
------------------

Me: I did not drink enough coffee for this information
Friend: I'm sorry...
Me: So, lemme put my Oprah helmut on for a sec
Friend: *sips her own coffee...with cinnabon creamer*
Me: And lean in real close and say
Me: "Cinnabon creamer is amazing"
Friend: LOL
Friend: Thanks Oprah
------------------

Me: Let's have an O moment now
Me: Wait
Friend: LOL
Me: A-ha moment, not O moment lol
Me: LOL
Friend: I want an O moment!!!!
------------------

Friend: lol of all days...the day that I need you, you lose whatever shreds of sense you had left 
Me: lol I'm here!
Me: I'm listening!
Me: I'm predent!
Me: Present!
Friend: LOL
Me: LOL
Friend: What 
Friend: The
Friend: Fuck
Friend: This is hilarious

Torn Between Two Holy Men, Feeling Like A Fool

I'm waiting on what I assume will be a series of calls and emails that will have some pretty big ramifications and may or may not change my life, even if temporarily. And there's nothing I can do but wait, which is frustrating and annoying. And so while I wait, I will blog. About anything but this. I know! Let's blog about one of the friends I talked to last night and the insanity that has been her month o' May. I wrote before that her best friends/tenants kinda left her high and dry by deciding seemingly on a whim that they were moving out of the place they were renting from her and her mom. She and Mama B owe big money at the end of the month and had no idea how or even if they were gonna pay it. A few days later, already semi-estranged from her best friends and freaking out about money woes, she and the Holy Man have a conversation that could not have come at a worse time. He says to her, he says he doesn't know where their relationship is headed. Then goes on about how she lives a "guarded existence" and should feel as though she can give all of herself to someone. Now that's great and all, but this dude isn't exactly setting the example. They're very much the same in terms of being "guarded", although I think it's more him than her. He rarely, if ever, opens up and tells her how he's feeling or how he's holding up while dealing with stuff. I'm not sure how much of his being guarded is just being inexperienced in relationships though. Anyway, she tells him she feels as if he's going to choose the holy life over her at some point and he quips back that if that's how she feels, maybe she should find someone she can be certain won't leave her in such a manner. Enter the original Holy Man. (End of Act I).
Oh yes, there was a Holy Man long before this current Holy Man came into the picture. But he booked it to go be a part of some holy organization here on the East Coast and that's where he stayed until a few weeks ago. Dude missed a golden opportunity to make a move and get the girl some years ago too. The irony is that while Holy Man 2 (you know you have a habit when your friends have to number your mensz) seems as though he is drifting towards the holy lifestyle but has not yet committed to it, Holy Man 1 sounds as if he's drifting towards the chick, although he's been committed to the holy lifestyle. Until now. Apparently he and his...um...fellow holy men, have decided not to renew his vows which means he's a free man. And he emerged from the shadows to tell this to the friend, spinning it as if he left for her even though there's no kinda guarantee (like at all) that they're going to be a couple. Holy Man 1 is not threatened by Holy Man 2, and the reverse is also true. But Holy Man 2 was making quite the push for a few days there. A lot of insinuating and talk about their future type stuff. So they decide to talk but his internet goes a little wonky and then when it finally comes on they talk for awhile before she sends an IM that he he never responds to. We were talking at the time, and she said he stopped responding so I told her to text him and ask if his internet went down again. No reply. Turns out Mr. Holy Man 1 fell asleep mid-conversation and left her hanging. So she decided on her own that she does want him in her life and whatever happens, happens. After she decides this, he goes a little MIA for a few days and now things are...settling, I guess. (End of Act II?)
In the midst of all of this holy stuff, she's still trying to figure out how to come up with the $1,700 she has to pay at the end of the month. Then she gets a check for $1,000 in the mail. Apparently it was leftover cash from her student loans. And things started looking up. Then she finds another check for $1,000 in a pile of mail she had cast aside. Now she's up $2,000 in a few days and can pay off everything with money to spare. Then, the problem tenants/best friends move out (and break up in the process). And suddenly, our luck has turned almost completely around. And it's pretty damn awesome. Being that we've been on similar life paths lately, I'm hoping her twist in luck means I'm due for one soon. Can't come soon enough.

"They Call It Alcohol-ISM, Not Alcohol-WASM, Just Like They Call It Hussy-ISM, Not Hussy-WASM"

It's two in the morning in my neck of the woods and I can't sleep. Why? Because I'm on the verge of some major life stuff involving my kid tomorrow. And it's all I've been able to think about for the past four days. Until tonight anyway. Everyone on my end is asleep, but my West Coast friends are still awake and kicking. And I'm thankful for that. The first conversation began with a debate over food, then ventured into the friend's personal life, before coming back around to calling me a hussy (even though I'm no longer a hussy, I will never live it down. She plays the hussy card anytime I make fun of her holy man sit'iation.). And, oddly, I did begin to feel better. I definitely felt less alone. That's a feeling that I've come to know all too well the past few days. It's mostly on me though. I sometimes forget my problems are my own and nobody else's. But that's how it is I guess.
Then I talked to a dude who has been one of my best friends since I was 5-years-old. He was previously referred to as "Groomzilla" in a previous post. Dude is one of those people who doesn't care if you want to talk about something, he's gonna make you talk about it anyway. However, I averted the convo about tomorrow by switching over to talk about his nearly two months pregnant wife. Their wild ride began almost a decade ago and has taken them from break-up to make-up to more break-ups and finally to reconciliation (we hope) for good and the altar. Now they're expecting a kid later this year and, while I'm thrilled for them, I'm also a bit trepadacious. Okay, maybe more than a bit. He's a recovering alcoholic and I'm extremely proud of him for getting his life on track and getting the girl in the end. But I also know he's relapsed in the past when under extreme emotional stress and there is no greater emotional stress than pregnancy and then having to care for a newborn. But that's a problem for another time I suppose. What we talked about tonight was that the Mrs. is beginning to exhibit pregnancy hormones and it is throwing him off. He texts daily about something new she yelled at him about or some new craving or something he doesn't understand. And, as much as I want to be sympathetic, I cannot. Because my sister-in-law had the mother of all pregnancy hormones. Seriously. I should dig up the posts about it because living under her regime during her pregnancy still gives me nightmares. Hell, even she admits she didn't wanna be around herself during pregnancy. So I'd like to tell him it's a phase and will soon blow over but honestly, pregnancy hormones be a crap shoot. It's such an awesome time though. I hope he enjoys it.
Another thing I said to a friend in conversation tonight is that I fully intend to punch my ex's next boy toy (and believe me, there will be another boy toy) in the face before I even know the dude. I punched the last guy, but let my guard down around the current ass because he seemed decent (considering the guys she typically dates), and now it's come back to bite me. I'm not a fan of 'I told you so', and I hate hearing it so I rarely (if ever) say it to someone else. I'm not saying it now either, but I firmly believed that marriage would not last. I became even more of a believer when she said he didn't want more kids and she was considering leaving him because of it. I'd heard very little about him for a few weeks, from either her or our daughter, and assumed it was over but had no confirmation. Well, consider it confirmed. The jackass filed a complaint against me for supposedly being an unfit father. He completely blindsided all of us too. The ex put him out a few weeks ago and has been contemplating divorce ever since. She's officially filing this week, I think she may actually be more livid than me about his complaint (probably because he made it seem as if she was on board with it). Here's what I've determined about the relationship between our daughter, her mother and I; when it's just the two of us making decisions for her, we're awesome and we don't fight (anymore, anyway). When outside forces interfere, be it dating or unsolicited advice from a family member, we fight and we struggle and we lose sight of what is most important. And even though the ex is firmly on my side about all this and will help in any way she can, I'm still basically going it alone. And I think that's what has me so down and depressed. But that's not gonna help anything so I have to just go for it all on my own. Wish me luck...

And You Will See That You And Me Aren't Very Far Apart

My brother was taking a survey for...I don't know, something (I only half paid attention to that part of the story, but stay with me here) and was surprised and a little riled about a series of questions he was asked. It started out by asking all the usual stuff; age, residence, etc. but took a turn when it came to the question about race. Instead of listing Hispanic/Latino under race, it first asked him if he was of that particular ethnicity. He answered 'yes' and the next question asked what race he was, but made it a point to say that Hispanic/Latino was not considered an acceptable answer to the question. A little thrown, he selected 'Some other race' from the list and moved to the next screen, which asked him what country his Latino heritage originates from. The options covered every Latin American country under the sun but would only allow him to choose one, even though he has both Mexican and Cuban blood. The next screen asked if he was born in this country and he said she was. Then it inquired whether both of his parents were born here, which they were. After that, it asked what his dominant language is at home and he said mostly English but with some Spanish thrown in. It asked the same question about television and radio and what language he watches and listens to them in. The next screen asked about whether he feels "more Latino or more American" and gave various answers he could choose from (ie. 'I feel more Latino than American' or' I feel much more American than Latino', etc.). He said she felt equally Latino and equally American. The following screen asked a series of questions about whether he felt the need to support Latino-owned businesses and ventures and if he felt the need to support more lenient immigration laws and so on. The final screen inquired as to whether he'd be more likely to vote for the Republican Presidential nominee if he had a Latino running mate, and made sure to slip in there the fact that if he won (end of days, indeed) he would be the first Latino to hold national office. He voted no obviously and was upset by their line of questioning and the implication that of course he should vote for whoever decides to let a Latino put his name on their ticket. As if NOT voting for a Latino just because you are also Latino is such a terrible offense.
I've been sitting with this story for about a week now until I could decide how I felt about it. And I still don't think I know how I feel. But I wonder why they felt the need to go all out interrogation on this thing. I highly, highly, doubt that any other race (or 'ethnic group', as they put it) had to go through so many extra questions. You know they're not asking white folks how they ended up in this country or if they'd vote for a white dude because he's white, or telling them that not voting for the white dude makes them less white. And I don't see what any of the things they asked him after the race question have to do with anything. It just seems like they're trying to separate us all into more little boxes. What is the point of that? And, even scarier, is this gonna be something that continues as more minorities ascend up the ranks of politics and everything else? Is my kid going to have to go through that kind of questioning when she's in her 20's? She's literally a mutt and, so far, there's no little box to check off for that. My best friend's kid is Indian and Puerto Rican but that mix isn't a choice on the list. Nor is my niece and nephew's Asian, Mexican and Cuban mash up. What does it matter? I think the question that most rubs me the wrong way though is whether you feel more Latin or more American, as if you have to choose between your Latin culture and being an American. I was born and raised here but I speak Spanish, I celebrate Latin holidays and I was raised with an emphasis on embracing EVERYTHING that you are. Everything race related is so screwed up nowadays, and I already knew that, but now we're trying to sway people's votes based on ethnicity? It's just like four years ago when peeps assumed every African American in the country would be voting for Obama because, duh, you're both African American. What do policies and differing viewpoints have to do with anything, right? I just can't stand that line of thinking.
My mom, the palest Mexican you'll ever see, thinks the increase in trying to put what people are in boxes has to do with feeling threatened. What was once a country of white immigrants is now a country of minority immigrants who will soon no longer be the minority. And that's a beautiful thing. That's how things were always meant to be. But, as with any major change, there are people who cannot accept it and feel threatened about becoming the minority. So, for the sake of everyone keeping their place in line, let's make sure everyone walks around with name tags stating their country of origin. It's just ridiculous. And the subject of race is a big deal all the time but it seems to be magnified in election years, especially since the 2008 election. I can't stand election years (or ads) or politicians. *sigh* The world couldn't end before all that starts, could it?

The Professor Is In

Two years ago I ventured home to talk to kids at my old film school about what happens after they graduate. It did not go well. I don't like public speaking and it showed. And yet, I have apparently been roped into doing it all over again. Only this time it's not for high school kids and they're hormones (thank god), but for college kids. My sister is doing a few workshops next month to teach advanced editing and asked me to be her second in command. And I, perhaps foolishly, agreed. But this is more hands on working and teaching, not getting up in front of a crowd and talking. Or, in my case, not talking. I'm excited about it though because I get to work with the sister. Hopefully it goes much better than the last time. And now I have a whole new perspective because I have also seen the seedy underside of the editing profession (read: unemployment).

Aaaaand One Step Back

I wrote about how I've been feeling good and optimistic about my health, and I still am. But the side effects of the transfusion are beginning (or continuing) to rear their ugly heads. It's nothing terrible; joint pain, chest pains, fever, etc. Doc says it's nothing to be too concerned about right now though. I just hope it ends soon. It's not that I expected a miracle cure or anything (I know there isn't one and remission is unlikely) but I guess I just didn't think of the side effects. Here's hoping a good night's sleep (of half a night's sleep, as the case is more likely to be) helps get the side effects outta the system.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

You know what really grinds my gears? Peeps thinking they have all the answers when it comes to raising kids. Peeps that think one thing is right and one thing is wrong for everyone and their kids. I've had arguments with this same person I'm referring to before, most notably about my daughter learning more than one language. She claims that Miss N will be "confused" by all the information going into her brain and end up not speaking proper English. I know that kids are sponges and it's much easier for them to learn and retain things like language when they're young, as opposed to learning it when they're adults. She's also criticized me before about discipline, saying that if I don't keep my kid reeled in and robotic one hundred percent of the time that she'll be more rebellious as a teenager. Being that I've already raised a teenager, I told her where she could put her advice on that particular subject. Mind you, all of this is coming from a woman who has no children of her own (she's expecting one later this year though...*shudder*), and who doesn't even speak to her step-children because they don't like her either. But my friend turned 30 today and invited his dad to his party and with dad comes dad's new-ish wife, who is about 5 minutes older than me but apparently has all the answers to everything in life. This clan is my bro-in-law's family and no one had more trouble accepting step-mommy more than him. His siblings just ignored her for the most part, but he couldn't figure out what to think about it all. Then, she got pregnant and the idea of having a sibling that is 32 years younger than him caused a falling out between himself and his father. His brother, whose birthday was today, has tried to be more civil towards her because he's been attempting to rebuild his relationship with his father for a few years now. But after today, that relationship may be on hold.
I've written before about my sister's oldest son and how he was born with hearing issues. It was an adjustment for everyone in the family but we all coped pretty well, and my sister and bro-in-law coped amazingly well. We learned Sign Language and figured out how to work the various alarms and gadgets in the house that were designed to help him (think modified fire alarms, etc.). A few years ago, he fell in love with hockey and wanted to play in a league with his cousin but needed to be able to hear to do so. His parents weighed the pros and cons of getting him a cochlear implant but ultimately left the decision up to him. He understood if he got one he would most likely be able to play hockey, but that he would also need intensive therapy to learn how to function once he could hear. He chose to get one and it's been nothing short of amazing. He plays hockey now, his speech is getting better everyday and he's such a happy kid. He wears his scars proudly and is willing to talk about his surgery with anyone who asks. And the kid is only 10. I couldn't be prouder of how he's handled everything. But, and this is a big but, we've also ALWAYS made it clear to him that there was nothing "wrong" with him before and that the implants were not to "fix" him in any way. If he hadn't found hockey, who knows if he ever would've wanted to get implants? If he saw no reason to do so and was happy the way he was then that would've been the end of the discussion. And it's likely a discussion that will be had again someday when his brother (also deaf) is old enough to make the same decision for himself.
The real kicker to this argument is that this woman is essentially the step-grandmother to my sister's kids (*shudder again*) and yet her position is that they "forced" their son to get the surgery because his not being able to hear made him not good enough for them. To borrow the word of a friend; what-the-fuck-ever. Kids come in all shapes and sizes, hearing and non-hearing, special needs and non-special needs and it shouldn't matter to a true parent what kind of kid they get. And it didn't to the sibs, he's always just been their son. Second, if they perceived being deaf to be a flaw, why would they then go out and adopt another child who cannot hear? It's not exactly cheap to have a kid who requires extra attention, nevermind two. She went on about how the surgery was "cruel" and usually causes more harm than good, and some people do end up losing whatever hearing they had left, but the nephew did not so why are you criticizing something that obviously worked? Cruel makes it sound like it was forced on him and it was not at all. The whole fight was stupid and ruined an otherwise fun party. And this woman doesn't exactly strike me as someone who should parent at all, she's so fucking vain and selfish. God forbid (seriously, I don't wish bad on anybody's children) she have a kid who needs extra attention for whatever reason.

Signs Of Life

So, it's been a few since I was transfused and I have to say that I'm more optimistic about my health than I've been in quite some time. I feel pretty damn good today, and I felt pretty damn great yesterday. As long as my counts stay up, I should be okay for at least the next six months and hopefully longer. It's unlikely I'll go into remission but if this is as good as it gets for me health-wise, I'll take it. I'm not as tired all the time, although I do still tire out easily when doing stuff that requires a lot of energy (working out, etc.). But instead of needing 12 hours to recover from something like that, I usually feel better after resting for an hour or so. I still have to leave myself reminders to take my meds and go in weekly for blood counts, a task that has become a bit more difficult since I'm co-habitating and can't just leave post-it's everywhere like I did at my place. But I'm sure I'll figure that out. The "life changes" (sounds so hokey) I've made will have to be permanent obviously but it could always be worse. And all of this has produced some great upsides; I'm back to meditating three times a week and reading my books more and I've given up drinking. Even if my counts stay where they are and my energy level stays where it is, I'm pretty damn happy with that. Still too soon to know anything for sure though.

Strange Days

Who has had the following conversations the past 12 hours? Yep, me.


G: I'm glad your transsexual worked. For once my dad was right.
Me: Yes...Please thank your dad for recommending the transsexual. It was obviously the way to go.
G: LMAO!!! Fml man
Me: LOL. Best. Autocorrect. EVER.
G: LOL Right?! It was bad enough without the stuff about my dad in there.
Me: lol Yeah, you've outdone yourself.
**(20 mins elapse)**
Me: Btw, why is transsexual even in your phone?
G: LOL You just now ask me that?
Me: lol Well I was too caught up in the excitement before to think about it
G: Trannys get you excited huh? And here I thought I knew ye.
Me: Only the ones recommended by your dad.
G: So well played. I think the person who owned this phone before me was an Asian transsexual named (or stage named) Jody Wong.
Me: I love her.
=========

A friend randomly asked me if I would want to know if they were terminally ill, or if I would want them to just keep it to themselves and go on about life. My first response was, 'What. The. Fuck.' (in those words exactly), but I eventually answered that of course I would want to know. I posed the same question back and she pondered for awhile and said part of her would like to be completely oblivious if I were sick. The rest of the convo follows:

Her: "However...I know for a fact that if I were to find out, I would hate you.
Me: "Well I'd be dead so not sure what the ramifications of your hate would be.
Her: "Oh, you'd feel it fucker."

I bet I would too.
=========
On the phone with G.

Me: "Damn. Hang on a second."
G: "What happened?"
Me: "I cut my finger. I'm spilling [sis-in-law's] blood all over the floor."
G: "Now is that how we treat new things, [full name]?"

Plans & Schemes

For years now, one of my friends and I have been completely yin and yang. Like clockwork, if I was having a great day or on an up, she was having a terrible one or on her way down. If she was excited about things coming together, I was stressing about things falling apart on my end. But the past few months we've found ourselves in the same boat more often than not. Lately, we've been talking a lot about the somewhat dire financial straits we currently find ourselves in. She and her family own some properties that they rent out and, against her better judgement, they decided to rent out to a pair of her best friends, who turned out to be less than desirable tenants. Both were working two jobs before renting the place, but quickly decided to ditch their second jobs after they moved in. Now, out of the blue, they say they're moving out, leaving little notice and screwing up the friend's family financially. Yet, somehow, they just expect everything to be as it was before this mess began and everyone to be on the same terms. There wasn't even so much as a heads up or a, 'hey, we may have to move out soon' so that peeps could try to get their ducks in a row. And while I know it's going to work out the way it's supposed to, it's still a pretty fucked up thing to do. Especially when they know about the money situation there. If you're not 1000% sure you can handle the rent for at least six months, then don't commit to renting out the place to begin with. What completely baffles (and upsets) me is how this has thrown so many things out of whack for the friend and yet her best friends either don't realize it or don't care what their decision has done. The other day my friend said that maybe their reaction is partially her fault because she told them she would be fine and maybe that's why they think nothing is wrong. But when you know and love somebody, you know when things are not fine. As far as I know there hasn't even been an inquiry of, 'are you sure you're okay?' or, 'I know I screwed ya'll over but can I do anything to help you get that knife outta your back?'. Nada. And that sucks.
This is one of those times I wish I could do something to help out, but I'm not much better off than she is financially right now. My mom is having issues with her house and issues with her health, I have medical bills upon medical bills and I also have no job. But I did have options and chose to take the one that has me subletting my apartment for two months. And yet, somehow, that still doesn't fix a whole lot. The medical bills will be on the back burner no matter what so we can toss those out of the equation. My mom's health stuff looks like it should be worked out within the next month (fingers crossed for much sooner than that though) and we have a few more months to figure out the house stuff. I have all kindsa faith that the financials will work out, a lot more than I had just a week and a half ago. The hope with my sublet is that I'll be able to take on a full-time gig again by next month and be able to get some cash flow going on. I do have some freelance stuff lined up, but nothing definite yet. Upside is that I have access to editing equipment (since I have nowhere to set mine up right now) so I can still get some stuff done. And I have no shortage of options of where to stay while I'm displaced. So I doubt this will be that bad. The only downside is I can't have my girl for overnights (something her mother and I agreed on before this was all in motion). But it's only temporary. Hopefully it flies by.

Blood Sucker

Me: I think I was getting on [sis-in-law's] nerves today. She brought her laptop to work, and I was like a kid, 'I'm bored. My arm itches. Are you gonna be working the whole time??'
Me: She totally gave me the mom tone at one point too
Me: *sigh* 'I don't know [my full name]'
Friend: LOL. That is hilarious

Ah, the long-delayed transfusion that is supposed to make my condition better. The result so far? Too soon to tell. But the transfusion itself was painless for the most part. I wasn't, how do you say...conscious when I got my blood transfusion years ago so this was my first time getting all hooked up. The sister-in-law went with me as she was my donor and they got her all set and pumped out some blood and while they separated that from the plasma, I had to fill out insurance forms. I had a sweatshirt on and as I was finishing filling them out, the nurse came over and said something about how she needed me to take my shirt off (so she could get to my arms and insert the needles). I joked that I like a woman who gets right to the point and she let out the most nervous, borderline maniacal laugh I've ever heard. She sounded like the villain in a movie or something. Not what you want to hear from someone seconds before they stab you with sharp instruments. Once the forms were filled out I was hooked up with a needle in each arm. One was pumping out my blood into this machine that separated it from the plasma and sent it into another machine that mixed the blood with the new plasma and then pumped it back into the other arm. The hope with this treatment being that the treated blood will start helping its own cause and prevent my cells from destroying themselves prematurely. It's not a cure and I'll still have to be on meds (most likely) the rest of my life but it's something that hopefully helps keeps the anemia in check. If it works, we can start to taper off some of the steroids (though not all the way) so I'm on just enough to keep my levels where they need to be. If it doesn't work, the next option is removing the spleen which I've been reluctant to do since it seems like such a crap shoot. Some people go into complete and total remission, others get much worse.
About an hour into my treatment, the nurse came back over and said she'd forgotten to give me a form that I needed to fill out as I was being transfused. It had a list of symptoms and I was supposed to mark off if I felt any of them, but I didn't have any major complications. My arms hurt a bit but that's probably because I hate IV's of any kind. The arm where they were putting the blood back in felt cold when it started to go into my arm. And I felt generally kinda...tingly, especially around my mouth and my leg (random, I know). But that was it as far as side effects. As I was reading this form they gave me I noticed, in really tiny print, that the form said something about how no one's sure what the long-term effects of this treatment are. Well that's just fantastic. They're basically removing blood cells from my body (albeit temporarily) so I understand the disclaimer, and I read a similar one on a previous form, but it didn't occur to me that there could be big side effects down the road until then. The biggest issue I had during my treatment was good old fashioned boredom. Once they hook you up, you're just sitting and/or lying there until it's done. They said I could bring stuff to pass the time, so I brought my laptop and the sis-in-law had hers. It did help pass the time but it was awkward to type since I had needles in both arms. Once it was over I got a list of instructions to follow the rest of the day and that was it. It seems like something as big as taking the blood from your body, altering it and then putting it back in should have worse side effects. But none so far. Even the after care instructions were pretty tame so that's a definite upside. Whether or not it works...time will tell. The next blood draw is a big one. But I have a good feeling about it so I guess that's something.

You Got To Know When To Hold 'Em...

My trip to Connecticut included:

~ Being pimped out by my best friend to the front desk clerk this morning to try and avoid being charged for an extra day at our hotel because we stayed out til dawn (literally) and slept past checkout time.

~ Staying out til dawn (literally) gambling because G now has a slight gambling problem. Upside of this particular casino trip; I won a quarter!

~ Getting hit on by a gay lad whilst playing poker.

~ Having to listen to a crazy lady talk about her 'bastard son-in-law' whilst playing video poker.

~ Talking to a very nice older dude about marriage and stuff (blog on that forthcoming cuz it was a great convo. Dude's been married 43 years!).

~ Conversating about vibrators and dildos. No, it doesn't sound any better when you hear the details.

~ Singing, 'The Gambler' at 4 in the morning when we got lost on our way home from gambling.

~ Bailing the best friend out of an unwanted pick up attempt by claiming she, T and I were in a polyamorous relationship and that we were at the casino celebrating that our herpes is in remission.

~ An argument with G (my cousin's husband, mind you) over his being a cover hog and my being a pillow hog. Yeah...

~ And, of course, the reason for the entire trip - TITANIC! It was an awesome exhibit and I kinda can't wait to take this trip again.

The Most Interesting Man In The World (Or Not)

Me: I am mysterious.
Me: I am...
Me: The most interesting man in the world
Friend: LOL
Friend: Oh wtf-ever
Me: LOL
Me: Spoken like a true wife
Friend: LOL
Friend: I'm sitting in my car laughing like a crazy person

Your Mama

Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there!!


I wrote about my mom last year and I don't think I could do better. But here are some things we can all thank mom for. Half of which there are laws against now. Kids have it too damn easy.

1.     My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE .
     "If you're going to kill each other, do it outside.. I just finished cleaning."

2.  My mother taught me RELIGION.  
    "You better pray that will come out of the carpet."

3.  My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL.
    "If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!"

4.  My mother taught me LOGIC.
    "Because I said so, that's why."

5.  My mother taught me MORE LOGIC .  
    "If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."

6.  My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
    "Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident."

7.  My mother taught me IRONY.  
    "Keep crying, and I'll give you something to cry about."

8.  My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS .
     "Shut your mouth and eat your supper."

9.  My mother taught me about CONTORTION-ISM.
    "Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!"

10. My mother taught me about STAMINA  ..
     "You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone."

11. My mother taught me about  WEATHER.
     "This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it."

12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
     "If I told you once, I've told you a million times. Don't exaggerate!"

13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
     "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.."

14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION .
     "Stop acting like your father!"

15. My mother taught me about ENVY.
     "There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do."

16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
     "Just wait until we get home."

17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING .
    "You are going to get it when you get home!"

18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
     "If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to get stuck that way."

19. My mother taught me ESP.
     "Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you are cold?"

20.  My mother taught me HUMOR.
      "When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."

21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT .
     "If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."

22. My mother taught me GENETICS.  
     "You're just like your father."

23. My mother taught me about my  ROOTS.
    "Shut that door behind you.  Do you think you were born in a barn?"

24. My mother taught me WISDOM.  
     "When you get to be my age, you'll understand."

25.  My mother taught me about JUSTICE.
    "One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you !"

26.  My mother taught me about CHOICE.  
    "Do you want me to stop this car?"

And Sprinkles Too

T: We'll just come back another time and it'll be just as fun. We'll come back after you're all healed up from treatment. And once you're in remission, we'll do something even better and more Titanic related.
Me: We're gonna go down to the wreck site once I'm in remission?!
T: Easy now. I meant we'd go out for ice cream and you could get sprinkles.

LOL. Best laugh I've had in two days. For the record, I'd never go down to the actual wreck site, even if I had a spare 70,000 lying around.

Stardate #0501102012. We Have Hit A Kink In The Plan

Illness sucks. That kinda fits in with my 'everything sucks' theme from the end of my last post. Anyway, greetings from whever-the-hell-we-are Connecticut. I wish I could tell you more about where we are but I haven't seen much of it. I woke up early this morning and didn't feel great so I took my morning meds and laid down to watch TV for awhile. I got up later, ate and felt okay. So I proceeded to gather my crap and get ready for an uncertainty filled weekend in Connecticut. Remember my post where I said we were gonna go wherever the wind took us? Yeah, well, wind-1, rest of us- a big fat zero. Everybody was late to the train station, but fortunately so was our train. Once we started moving, I got nauseous and spent the majority of the ride drifting in and out of sleep, even though I wasn't all that tired. Then I laid down in the back seat of the rental car while we drove to the hotel. And that's pretty much been my trip thus far. I have pain in my side, but none in my chest so I guess that's one good thing (I don't know if I've mentioned this before but I have to call the doc if I have chest pain because things could go south in a hurry). I've had a bloody nose off and on for awhile. Not sure what that's about. And the past thirty minutes or so I've developed a bit of a cough. My friends, of course, are freaking out and Googling routes to the nearest hospital just in case. But I don't think it's that bad. Hopefully it's just minor and we can go to this exhibit tomorrow and maybe we come home a day early. All good vibes are appreciated, kids.

The Father, Sun And The Holy Fonz

A friend of mine is going through a very rough time financially (blog on that and my own money issues forthcoming). She's dating a dude who is considering entering the priesthood and is obviously a very devout Catholic. This week has been a total throwaway week for her if there ever were one. She hasn't had many people to talk to about all the drama going on and I was surprised to find out that she had not yet been able to talk to the holy man about it. Then she did and I asked what his advice was, forgetting that he's a religious lad and thinking he would advise and comfort her the way a significant other does. His response? "God will take care of you". Seriously? Girl is feeling like the walls are caving in and the advice you give her is to leave it up to the big man?? Mind you, she and I are similar in terms of religious beliefs in that we were both raised Catholic but no longer swing that way, yet still hold on to some of what we were taught. But I've known some very religious people who don't want to hear what he told her when in the middle of a crisis so us non-religious folk definitely don't want to hear it. Post-accident(s), I got a lot of, 'It was god's will' and, 'Everything happens according to his plan'. Well you know what? Sometimes his plan SUCKS. And his timing SUCKS. And the shit he makes you go through to learn a damn lesson SUCKS. And when in crisis or feeling down, I don't wanna hear nothin' bout nobody's will. One of my exes, though not quite as big a holy roller as my friend's holy man, was a mostly devout Christian but even she didn't wanna hear that kinda stuff when things were going the wrong way. And she definitely knew better than to tell it to me. I don't know, I guess my point is that some people get through things with that line of thinking but not all of us do. And I wish more people would realize not all of us do and advise accordingly.

Dude, Where's My Vacation?

I love my best friend. I love all of my friends obviously, or they wouldn't be my friends. But we all have certain strengths and weaknesses. My best friend tends to plan things, even if she doesn't plan them until the last minute. For my birthday, she gave me tickets to a Titanic exhibit in Connecticut. Then told me I could take a train there but I needed to figure out tickets and everything else myself. Well, it is the thought that counts I guess. And I am very thankful for the tickets. It seems like everywhere but here had some type of Titanic exhibit open last month and I had no way of seeing any of them. When I got the tickets a few weeks ago, the trip seemed pretty far in the future. And I guess it was. But the date sort of snuck up on us. Who is 'us', you ask? The best friend, my friends G and T and myself. The best friend I talk about here all the time and have known literally my entire life, etc. G is responsible for making my life better just by purchasing a used iPhone. We met about 11 years ago (don't remember how) and bonded over hockey and a few years ago he married my cousin. T is a friend I met during my college days. I went to a pick up dodgeball game with some other friends and T was the organizer of the thing. Once the game started, I kept aiming for her because I knew she was the other team's strongest player. She asked if I was picking on her cuz I had a crush on her and I told her to get over herself. She promptly popped me right in the head after my comment. But at the end of the day we hung out for awhile and became friends. She's also the chick who introduced me to "lemonade", and we all thank her for that.
Everyone had a job for this trip; the best friend's was to check out rental cars, G's was to look at hotels, T's was to find stuff to do besides the Titanic thing and mine was to find our way there and back and everywhere in between. I admit that I have slacked on my job, I didn't even look at the train schedule until Sunday or Monday. We chose a hotel Wednesday, only to change our minds yesterday because the hotel we chose was not in the town we wanted it to be in. T had this awesome idea of taking an overnight train so we could be there tomorrow morning at five and just start our weekend, but we can't check into the hotel until three so that idea went by the wayside. Then we figured out stuff to do until check in but the best friend wants to travel in daylight so she can see the water. Fine. Travel plans changed again. T, to her credit, has figured out stuff to do, although we've decided to mostly just play it by ear. Her one can't miss attraction? A winery. Yeah...so we shall see where the wind takes us I guess. I feel like we're four college kids about to venture out on our first big trip because we're that unprepared. The only difference between us and college kids is...well...I guess there isn't one. Ah well, here goes nothing...

What Every Mother Wants From Her Son

G: I don't know. I have to return it.
Me: Why?
G: It's in spandex.
Me: ...Your Mother's Day gift is in spandex? lol
G: I. Hate. The. Ifoam.
G: Ifone
G: IPHIONE
G: DAMMIT!!!
G: SPANISH. NOT SPANX
Me: LOL
G: SPANDEX
G: SPANISH***
Me: Can I be there when you give your mom Spanish Spandex Spanx?
G: LMAO. Suck it!
Me: In most instances I think an actual gift is the best way to go. But you my friend may just wanna give mom a gift card.

And Here's To You Mrs. Robinson...

Sister: So crazy aunt brought around her new boy toy today. Guess how old he is! Guess!
Me: 64 but with the heart and libido of a 60 year old.
Sister: Younger. Think mom's age.
Me: 52?!
Sister: Ok, mom is 53. And the boy toy is 45.
Me: Oh...my...

Yes, you read that right, I said, 'oh my'. Partially because that's what I say when I'm shocked beyond reply and partially because I'm an old man now and I hear that's what we say. And that is how I learned of my beloved crazy aunt's new relationship. Apparently she took her shiny new boy toy for a spin at a family function over the weekend and I wish I'd been there to see it. The funny thing about this is that I really can't throw my opinion into the fray here. I mean, except for two, every girlfriend I've ever had has been older than me. Some by days, some by months, the majority by years. In fact, my history is so well known that anytime my friends and I watch a show about, talk about or hear about couples with an age difference and I voice an opinion, I get a 'pssh' type comment in reply. The sentiment behind it being, 'Like you can talk'. For a time, my girlfriends were all nicknamed 'Mrs. Robinson'. And they're correct. But I've never quite ventured into the 20 (or 25, not sure how old she is) year territory that crazy aunt is in right now. I think the oldest I've done is a 15 year age difference. Of course, I was like 23 at the time so she was 38-ish. And that's a wee bit depressing to think about now that I'm in my 30's. But even that one was a little much for me once I realized she was closer to my mother's age than my own. The most functional relationships I've had have been with women who are no more than 6 years older than me. No idea why. Not that I'm claiming to have been functional in any of those. And I'm definitely not hating on crazy aunt and her boy toy (if one can be considered that at 40).  I'm happy she's happy. I just hope he's still around in a few months time if I go home. This is one show I cannot miss.

Tell Her That I Miss Our Little Talks

I''m sad. And upset. And exhausted. And I've no one to talk to about any of it. And so I will write. Or at least I will try to. Words kinda fail me at the moment. But there's so much going on inside me that I have to get it out, and this is the only outlet. I apologize if this post turns out a bit scattered.
When I was a young lad the siblings and I stayed home with our grandmother. We adored the woman, but she was sort of an enigma. She could be brash and you never knew what would fly out of her mouth, or she could be shy and quiet. I guess in that way I am her grandson since I seem to have taken on a good amount of that same personality. She could yell at us in Spanish to come inside the house for dinner in one breath and then laugh her way through dinner while listening to all our jibberish and stories. She was always very loving though. She was one of those who was most definitely a better grandmother than mother, but being a widow with seven kids had to be so overwhelming. Hanging out with only three kids all day had to be a vacation for her. I remember far less about my grandmother than I wish I did. Most of the earlier childhood stuff was taken away when I bumped my head (sounds so much better than brain damaged, I think) during the accident and now I only get back what the fam tells me. It's equal parts annoying and fascinating. Because it's scenes from my life but it doesn't feel that way. When I hear these stories it feels more like they're telling me about a movie or a TV show they saw. Doesn't seem like I was there at all. The majority of people don't have to be told about things that happened in their childhood because they have the luxury of being able to remember them. I wish I were one of them.
One thing I do remember from childhood is when I started to internalize things and take things out on myself. I grew up around a bunch of girls so in elementary school I didn't have the same 'girls are gross to be around' mentality that my male classmates did. Don't get me wrong, I still thought they were kinda gross but I had no qualms about hanging out with them. And I got teased a lot about it. My male cousins decided it was better to run with the pack than hang out with who they wanted, so they never took any crap about having girl friends. I was the only one being harassed about it and I didn't really have anyone to talk to about it so I didn't. Instead, I wrote about it. Fortunately, in third grade my teacher was very encouraging about my writing and that's why I write so much today. I don't know what I'd do without it since it's my main outlet now to express myself. But sometimes I wonder what it's like to be able to throw everything out there and share it. I've been told it takes some form of courage to write a blog for all the world to read but I think it takes more to be able to open up vocally to people. I don't do it nearly as often as I wish I could. Someone once told me there's so much going on beneath my surface and that it'd do me good to let it all come out in some other way, at least once in awhile. That may be good advice.

Sometimes The Hardest Thing And The Right Thing Are The Same

And that sucks.

MAJORLY.

Everybody Knows How To Raise Children, Except The People Who Have Them

I am part zombie today. I stayed up to do some writing but couldn't concentrate so I went to bed. Twenty minutes later, Miss N wanders in and is running a fever. And so we were up the majority of the night. Even once she fell asleep, I kept waking up because I was worried she was going to wake up again. She's completely fine other than the fever and being really tired. I'm not sure if that's because she didn't sleep last night or because of the fever, but she typically sleeps a lot when she runs them. I wish someone, anyone, could tell us what it is that gives her these fevers. Even though the only thing they seem to do is make her tired, there still must be something amiss. We were hoping she'd outgrow them, and she still might, but so far they're just less frequent. I guess that's something. Being up all night took me back to every time I've been up all night before with a baby or a toddler (other than my own, of course). I spent a few nights up with my niece when she was a baby, but didn't get into almost full-time duty until my brother's oldest was born a few years later. I was a mess, still recovering from the accident and such, and it was almost as if the kid knew it. He would scream bloody murder if anyone else came to get him at night, but he was as calm as can be when we were together, like he knew I needed the company or something. A decade later, his sister Miss M came into the picture and that child's middle name could be 'Chaos' (that's what I call her). I swear she would wait until you were just slipping into sleep before screaming out at decibels no human should have to hear. She just wanted the company and didn't like to be alone. But she was gonna make you suffer for leaving her alone in the first place. It's amazing how different each kid can be.
Last night while I was wide awake I thought about the contrast of my life some years ago and my life now. These are the things that keep me up now; preschool applications, college funds and fevers. It's a far cry from my college days where the only reason I was up was because I wanted to be. For some reason, I've been thinking about parenthood in general the past, oh, 14 hours or so. I can't imagine why. It could be because I was up with my own kid, or the fact that my sister's oldest son turned ten yesterday. Might also have something to do with two of my best friends in the world announcing they're expecting, or my cousin and his wife considering procreating this year. My group isn't comprised of very many parents and, really, neither is my generation of family. The funny thing about that is our elders are always talking about how they don't have grandkids or have enough grandkids, when they're the ones that made it mandatory for us to go to college and get degrees. And with degrees come careers (or at least that used to be the case), and thus longer wait times for happily ever afters. My cousin and his wife are celebrating their ten year anniversary later this year and have been debating having kids for awhile now. I remember having a conversation about kids some time ago and my only advice was not to take that plunge unless you're absolutely ready for it. Kids be rough. On the best days, they're fun and exciting and growing and learning and well-behaved. On the worst days, they're growing and learning and loud and cranky. And needy, don't forget needy. Although you know what you're signing up for on that one. And on days when you're overwhelmed, and there will be days when you will be overwhelmed, you just have to take yourself out of the situation for a minute and learn to deal. And then get right back at it. Perhaps not surprisingly, the cousin and his Mrs. decided to wait at least another year before having kids of their own. Probably a wise decision.
It occurred to me today that I probably will not have more kids if I don't do it within the next eight years. Maybe even less. I adore kids and I love being a dad and it's so true that you don't get love until you become a parent. But my kid is already four. I never wanted there to be much of an age difference between my kids, probably because that's how I grew up. In eight years, she will be twelve (shudder). Twelve years is a big age difference. In another four years, she'll be eight. That, I'm thinking, will be the more likely cutoff point. I'll be 35 by then (shudder). I know not all siblings that have big age differences have a disconnect, I have friends who are a decade and a half younger than their siblings and they grew up just fine. A few years ago I was in the midst of a little bout of baby fever. I wasn't in any position to have another one, but mine was at the age where she didn't need me as much anymore and that was the main factor. It passed and now I'm back to my usual 'wait and see' approach. So I don't know. This is all way in the future obviously. But I won't even consider another kid unless I'm ridiculously in love with the person I want to have the kid with. But who knows? I could have two more kids by 35, I could have no more by 38. It's in my hands but it's also out of my hands. At least now I know exactly what to expect after four years in the trenches with Miss N. Wouldn't change it for the world.

Only Human

Some time ago, most notably during the dark ages, I had a problem. Not an addiction level problem, but one that threatened to destroy me all the same. This was what made the dark ages so dark, and so dangerous. Post-accident I was prescribed Ativan, as well as other pain meds for the lingering effects of what I'd been through. And it worked wonders. But not for the reasons it's supposed to. I discovered that taking it made me completely numb; to physical pain, emotional pain and emotions in general. I thought it was fantastic. I didn't feel high or get a rush. I felt nothing and that was exactly what I wanted. Early on, nobody knew I was taking it more often than I was supposed to because they assumed my being so stoic was a result of my still being in mourning. A few months later, my doctor scaled back my dosage and said I should take it only when I was genuinely having a panic attack. I didn't listen. Then I started mixing it with alcohol, amongst other things. I had a particularly bad day and decided to double up and it sent me so out of control that I went off it cold turkey for a few weeks. But then I went back. Eventually, I had to finish school and get a full-time job and I was always 100% sober for both of those things. But my weekends were mine and I do whatever I wanted. The women in my life would come and go; all knew what I was up to but only a few tried to do something about it. And once they did, they were cut off and I moved on. Then I began dating someone who had had similar issues  during college, but with alcohol. She also was not addict-level but she partied a lot, got kicked out of school and had to work her way back. She knew from the gate what I was doing and she made it quite clear I would not be doing it while we were together. So I stopped. I turned toward my faith and away from substances. We both gave up drinking for awhile. Things were awesome. Then I fucked up. We were having issues and on separate coasts at the time and I found a way to get Ativan. I remember putting absolutely no thought into obtaining it, but sitting there staring at the bottle for the longest time before I took any. I took one. She called a half hour later, knew what was up and, once I sobered up, said she was done if I ever did it again. I never did. Flash forward to fatherhood and you'll find me a few months into getting my life completely together. I was meditating, I was writing and I was in therapy and suddenly all of that had to be amped up so I could be clean and present. I gave up all substances, I didn't even take over the counter stuff unless absolutely necessary. Life was awesome.

The past six months or so since my anemia diagnosis have brought me back to the familiar territory of Ativan and panic attacks. I began having them again when we weren't sure if it was cancer or something not as bad, but refused to take anything for them. But so many stresses have caught up with me this year and it's taken a toll. And I fell back, a few times, into some old habits. On three occasions I've taken Ativan when I didn't need to. NEVER when I've been around my kid but I've had a few moments of college-esque partying and using when I'm on my own. It's provided escapism. But it's also affected my relationships and that is something I'm not at all proud of. In my early 20's, one of my best friends entered rehab and I got my first taste of what it's like to be around someone who drinks too much. It was awful. Nicest guy on the planet but when he drank, he became mean and angry and not himself. And yet, knowing what I become when I use, I still used in my 20's and a few times this year. But I highly doubt I'll do it again. Because tonight I got another taste of what it's like when someone you love is completely out of it. And I'm not sure what to make of it. I guess it just makes me angry. I didn't even recognize who I was having a conversation with. It started with a bunch of texts that were all over the map and that should've been a clue. I don't know...I'm not laying down judgments because obviously I can't but it was just very unexpected. And sad.

Seek The Wisdom Of The Ages, But Look At The World Through The Eyes Of A Child

Everybody who enjoys writing does so in their own way. The majority of my posts are written and posted in one sitting, but there are times it takes longer to finish them. Sometimes I just have an idea about what I want to write and post a single sentence or thought so I can remember to elaborate on it later. Other times I complete a post only to rewrite it a few days later because it wasn't quite right. But they all see the light of day eventually. And there's really not much I won't post about, not because I'm an exhibitionist but because this is my outlet and helps me work through things. A friend of mine who also keeps a blog has always typed up various ideas and posts in a separate program on their computer and now has a folder full of posts that haven't made it to the blog yet. I totally get it, I never post mine until they're perfect (in my head, anyway) and say everything I want them to. But I find that I do some of my best writing on the fly. If I have too long to think about it, I'll find errors that aren't really there and the nitpicking will begin.
This friend recently decided to try writing and posting in one sitting and, a week in, I think it's going well. The most recent post was about aging (and mentioned that they're TWELVE YEARS away from 40. Well boo-freakin'-hoo, I'm NINE YEARS away). In case you missed it, I turned 31 last week so I of course have an opinion on the subject. Aging sucks. That's my consensus thus far. It sucks even more when you first start to notice the signs. You don't worry about whether or not you look old in college, because you automatically assume you're hot stuff (or at least not old). Post-college, the wear and tear of those years begins to show. It started for me when I found three grey hairs in my 20's and yanked them out as quickly as I could. Then I meticulously checked my hair for signs of that blasted color (or lack of pigment, as it were) everyday for months. I was much more paranoid about aging than I ever thought I would be. But a few years ago I realized that getting the chance to age is a privilege and it's one I'm very fortunate to have and I decided to stop sweating the small stuff.
But then came my friend's blog post about aging and here I am staring in the mirror again. I've found one grey hair in my 30's (so far) and, again, yanked it out as quickly as I could. I don't like grey hair (who does, right?). And it concerns me that I've already had one so early into my 30's. That makes me fear what's coming next. Although, maybe I should just be happy to still have hair as I get later into my 30's since my hairline is receding (which is why I wear hats as often as possible nowadays). I'd definitely rather go grey than go bald. Other than the hair, everything else seems to be holding up okay. I've been told I look younger than my 31 years and I guess I do some days. But other days I see stuff that wasn't there in my 20's and it's a wee bit depressing. I have lines on my face but nothing major (in my opinion anyway). I don't typically feel old, so I guess that's good I guess. Who knows how the looks will evolve over the next decade?
It's not so much physical stuff that makes me feel old though. It's more seeing or hearing stuff from my younger years that hammers home just how old I am now. I remember as a kid my mom (then in her 30's) would talk about some famous person from her childhood having a birthday or a baby or dying and she'd say time flies. I now know exactly how she felt and what she was talking about. When the 'Fresh Prince of Bel-Air' came to TV Land, I was appalled. But that's nothing compared to how I felt when I saw Jon Bon Jovi hocking Advil a month ago (and several times since). Talk about a gut punch. It was one of those defining, 'damn you old' moments for me. It didn't make me feel any better to realize I take Advil kind of a lot. Yeah. Fun times. I'm probably less than a decade away from telling my daughter about how I can't believe someone I used to idolize died (or, in this day and age, had a baby at some ridiculously old age). But that's a good thing. Because it means I'll be around to tell her all about it. And it will most definitely be a privilege.