An Open Letter to the Bathroom Fiends

Dear Unhygenic Dwellers of the Ladies' Room:

What in the hell is wrong with you? Seriously.

Maybe I'm happy that you didn't "clean up" the disgusting mess you left on the seat because at best, you'd have simply wiped it up with a wad of t.p. and your unsanitary germs would still be lingering on the seat, invisible to the naked eye (or butt.) At least this way, I visually know to avoid your stall (such an appropriate word choice in this case), supressing a gag while holding my breath and finding a better bathroom in which to pee.

No seat liner in the world can protect against your funk. Not even the two seat liners that I regularly use, even when employing "hover mode."

If I could go the entire day without peeing, I would. Believe me. But since I can't, do you think you could:

• stop wiping yourself with the toilet seat?


• flush?


• look back at the toilet bowl to make sure that everything that should have gone away, actually did?


• pick up the toilet paper you used and then discarded on the floor?


• light a match?


• stop making those strange grunting noises?


• avoid using your cell phone while you're going to the bathroom?


• wash your hands? (this includes using soap)


• stop leaving puddles of mystery water on the sink surfaces?


• pick up your paper towels off the floor after using them?

I know you're probably chanting, "OCD! OCD!" right now. But this isn't about obsession. It's about manners. You can totally live like a pig at home, but please pretend to have some class when you use the bathroom at work.

And that, my Bathroom Fiends, is all I have to say to you at this time.

Sincerely,

T&T

Friday, Celebrations, Velcro

Good morning and Happy Friday, Party People!

It's been a busy week. I'm welcoming this weekend with very open arms...

I've been to see my Grandma three times this week, stopped in to check on Virginia twice, done a zillion loads of laundry, helped my Mom ready her place for company, cleaned up the house a little...full evenings.

Packed expertly and felt so put-together because, despite my busyness, I was actually on the couch by 8:15 last night, with a "hillbilly pour" (that is what the barmaid at our local calls a very full glass of wine), ready to watch some mindless television. Which I did. (Ashamed that it was the recap of the Not-So-Real Housewives of Hotlanta and the first episode of the new season...couldn't help it. Good gosh...anyway!)

This morning, I get aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall the way to work and realize that I have no cell phone. I need my cell phone. Not that I ever use it. But just in case. Especially with all the stuff going on with Grandma. And I'm commuting to Steinvic's right after work and stopping by our house in 5:00 Friday traffic would be The Suck.

So I got to my desk, made over all the birthday decorations and flowers from my co-workers (such sweeties) and grabbed my keys and drove aaaaaaaaaaaaaaall the way home and then aaaaaaaaaaaall the way back to work. This would normally take more than an hour. But someone up there wanted me to get here quickly, so the round trip took only 40 minutes (and no, I wasn't speeding...I learned my lesson.) I think I'm going to start velcroing that stinking phone to my leg or something. You know, just to avoid the extra trip home the next time.

And now here I am. Yes, my birthday is Sunday. I'll be.......well, closer to the end of my thirties, but not too close. Okay, I'll be 38 Sunday. And I'm fine with it. I haven't accomplished all the things I wanted to accomplish by this point, but I have a great life. I have Steinvic, his son and family, my Grandma, awesome folks, good friends, a nice home, a great job, the Mighty Echo, my health...and no wrinkles (which I honestly admire and find very charming, intriguing and quite attractive on others, but I'm fascinated that I've avoided them thus far.)

I have a lot to be thankful for. (Thanks!)

One second here on the Real Housewives of Atlanta. The only one worth watching is Dwight. (Oh, I know he isn't a wife! But he'd sure like to be!) He is a trip. AND it's fun to see Kim not be able to sing and lie, lie, lie. Other than those aspects, the show is kind of trash. But watch it for the trash element! Go ahead! Keep your expectations very low and you will be entertained.

Okay! That's it from here. I'm headed north tonight to spend the weekend with Steinvic, his son, and wonderful family. We've got lots of fun family times planned and I'm totally looking forward to it... So, until we meet again, be good...

Beautiful Shoes!

Growing up, my family didn't have a ton of money. Mom is a social worker and my father was a school teacher, so money was always tight. We never went hungry or anything like that - my parents were resourceful. I just remember that we didn't have a lot of extras...we had what we needed and that was it. As I got into high school, the funds just started to loosen up to the point that if there was something special we reeeeeeeeeeeeeally wanted, my folks would do their best to make it happen. (And then my father left us. Cue being broke again. But we made it work.)

Mom and I window shopped a lot. When I was in the tenth grade, we spotted a pair of paisley Zodiac ankle boots at a department store and drooled over them every few weeks when we'd walk through the mall. They were close to $300. In 1986, that was unheard of, even for the age-of-excess-80s. And especially for a family like ours, who cut coupons for just about everything.

Over the months, the boots got marked down. And down. And down some more, but they were still about $120. And then one day, we didn't see them there. So, as you do with things that just aren't going to happen, I eventually forgot about the boots.

That is, until Christmas Eve. We were on our way to our Fellowship for the candle light service and Mom always allowed my sister and me to open one present before church. She handed me a box she selected and as I tore open the paper and saw the Zodiac logo, I thought, "No way......"

They were two sizes too big, but with the pointy toes, the oversize was easily remedied with a small wad of tissue paper. "Do you love them?" she asked. I looked at her and said, "YES, but they were too much! This is too much..." She told me how much she paid to ease my mind - $90. She got them too big because they were the only ones left, but she knew with the lace up, I could make them work. To me, $90 was still extravagant for a pair of boots, but I can tell you that I adored them and wore them for years. I wore them out. I still have them, though, and as tattered as they are, on a cool, dry evening, you might still see me wearing them once or twice a year.

They're sentimental shoes. I got them 23 years ago.

Fast forward to last night. With my Grandma's condition, we haven't even thought about birthdays - mine and my sister's are both next week. Plus, Steinvic and I are in Columbus this weekend for a variety of fun things that I really, really didn't want to miss. I was at my Mom's to help her with some housework (more people coming to see Grandma this weekend) when she realized out loud, "Your birthday is Sunday!" I told her not to worry about it...not like we haven't had a ton of stuff going on.

"We have to give you one of your presents now, " my Mom insisted. My S-Dad seconded that and added, "Wait...which one?" They whispered to each other and then Mom ran upstairs.

It tickles me that I'm a grown woman and my folks get so excited about these things...no different than if it were my first Christmas or some landmark birthday.

She returned with a bag. My S-Dad grabbed the camera. I opened it and there were the second coolest pair of shoes I've ever seen. A pair of special, handmade, colorful, ridiculously funky shoes. Shoes that they'd bought for me at an arts festival ages ago and that they've been dying to give me:

What do you think?

I think they're awesome and I totally dig them. I know I'll wear them a ton and each time I get a comment or compliment, I'll let my folks know. They're not practical. They're expensive. And I love them! This is a real treat.

If you dig them and want your own, you can visit this site to get information about ordering. Like I mentioned, not cheap, but made very well, extremely comfortable and by true artists.

The World Keeps Spinning...

I went to see my Grandma last evening after my dentist appointment. The staff knew I was coming and had her dinner ready, piping hot, just minutes after I arrived. As I cut her food into small bites, I could feel this immense sadness way off in the distance...could almost make out it's form, like a kite that is flying so high, you can't see what color it is. If I so much as blink, it disappears. Intangible. I just can't go there right now.

We visited, played beauty shop (she was in desperate need of a hair style, which always makes her feel so much better) and when I left, she was smiling and comfy in her bed with her remote control and her pillows and her puzzle books. And it was Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune time. A good time for me to go.

During our visit, she said so matter-of-factly, "Now, my next wish is to die in my sleep."

She said it with clarity and certainty. She wasn't sad or pitiful. This is what she wants and I guess she figured I could handle it...as though making her wish heard might help make it come true.

I find that she brings things like this up at random and I guess in some ways, it's good that I am in this very neutral, detatched state, because normally, these words would crush me.

I know she is wrapping things up. I know that she hopes when she says things like, "Do you know how proud I am of you? So very proud..." that these words will be part of our last conversation.

But I can't wrap up anything. I can't say goodbye to her.

I just give her one kiss and hug from me, then one kiss and hug from Steinvic, tell her I love her and that I'll talk to her tomorrow.

I ask, "Do you want your door open or shut?" and she says, "Both." I start closing it slowly, slowly, slowly and she watches me carefully. Finally, she says, "There! That's good."

I tell her to have a good night through the small opening in the doorway. I listen as the sound of her television fades from my ears as I walk down that long corridor.

I release a giant sigh as I walk through those big heavy doors that lead into the parking lot. Just like always.

Baby We Were Born to Run..........

...and that is just what Steinvic and I did this weekend. We had a blast. We laughed and I needed laughing.

Thursday night, we had drinks. Carry out pizza from Tammy's. I zonked on the couch until 2 before crawling into bed, but still, a good evening. On Friday morning, we woke up, packed up and dropped off some art I'd made for his sister (after a detour filled journey, but it was worth it because she loved the art). We got back on the highway and headed for Cleveland.

We made great time, despite our detour. When you speed, you make great time. Which I did. And for my efforts, I earned a ticket (Thanks, Linndale!) but even that couldn't stop us from having fun. We walked to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and saw the Bruce Springsteen Exhibit, and plenty of other awesome memorabilia. You should go. Really. If you love music a lot, like we do, and history, go. Worth it! Oh! We also got to check out Johnny Cash's tour bus, which was very, very cool.

Soon into our adventure, I realized that the shoes I selected were a poor choice. Now, don't judge...I was not traipsing around in stilettos. These are funky, low-heeled, pink leather sandals. They just...kind of suck if you're going to walk very far and somewhat briskly in the heat, and I have the top-of-foot blisters to prove it. We'd planned to go back to the hotel and change before dinner and drinks, but it just didn't work out that way. We were on a roll, and after about three glasses of wine, I stopped thinking about my poor feet. We found dinner. We went shopping. We talked with nice and interesting people.

We were out very late but managed to get up, grab lunch and get on the road by 1:00 Saturday, and we headed back to his sister's to help her prepare for her baby boy's annual birthday bash. He's five now, and this party is always great fun, lots of people, lots of kids, lots of celebrating. Steinvic's sister constructed a lovely cake in the fashion of an Irish Flag, so after Nephew-cake-singing, there was Steinvic-cake-singing. I think Steinvic had a good time. His son came to the party and brought Steinvic a Celtics' jersey and hung around most of the evening...I happen to know that time with his son was the greatest part of Steinvic's weekend. Makes me smile...

As the evening wound down, we just sat and visited. I had wine. I held a baby - our new Great Niece - and fed her and changed her and sang to her and rocked her and that is always a wonderful way to spend an hour.

And yesterday - nada. Home. Grocery shopped. Cooked dinner. Watched Walter Cronkite Remembers. And Columbo. Sewed some felt pouches for no real reason.

Meanwhile, my Grandma spent the weekend getting lots of visits and love from people in from out of town. People she hasn't seen in a few years. People who just wanted to be close to her, just once more. I talked to her every day this weekend and kept updated by my Mom. I'll see her this afternoon. I'm glad she was so surrounded by people who care. Now that they're all gone, I'm right back in to keep her company. And we have a dinner date, just the two of us.

So, that's all folks...an excellent weekend. As I said to Steinvic...it's a good think we're back at work this morning so we can relax a little! Happy Monday, y'all...

Happy Birthday to Steinvic...

Happy Birthday to Steinvic - okay...it's not today. It's on Saturday. But on Saturday, we'll be coming home from an overnight and heading to a party for our nephew. Steinvic, your birthday is not just a special day for you, it's a special day for me! And for everyone who knows you. It marks the day a genuine, talented, intelligent, decent, kind and extremely handsome man was born. A day when your most interesting life, full of twists and turns and accomplishments began. The day when your path began curving gently toward mine, (even though mine hadn't officially started yet.) How lucky I am to know you and love you, Steinvic...So thankful on this day and always!

Note: Even though Steinvic and I both offered to postpone our mini-trip to celebrate his birthday, we were asked to keep our plans. Now that things seem to be improving/stable with my Grandma, that seems even more reasonable to take this time where she is feeling better and go celebrate life. So, until later...be well.

You Can Say Anything, But Don't Say Goodnight Tonight...

Yeah, I know I posted earlier, but let's throw the Blog Rules out the window and post twice in one day.

I thought you might like to know that I just visited my Grandma. The one who is supposed to be in hospice, which in my mind means withering peacefully. The one who yesterday didn't "want to be here anymore" and was so sick they finally agreed to give her her wish. The one who I love.

She was bright eyed and - in her charmingly bossy way - giving orders about what should go where in her room. Her color is back. She asked to go off morphine. She ate beef barley soup for lunch. She wanted her phone turned around so she could answer it herself.

I told her that one of the gladioli I'd planted was blooming on the patio, just out of her range of sight. It was purple. She said she'd never seen a purple one. So I went outside, cut it for her and put it in a vase. She was pleased.

I know that at this point, this situation could go on for a long time or a short time. I go about doing things while feeling that I'm doing nothing. When I'm not at the nursing home, I want to be there and once I get there, deep down I feel restless and soon want to leave.

I can feel the edges of relief and joy just beyond my reach. I want to get happy and forget the fear and sadness of the past week.

It's only been a week.

But I know I should just be thankful for today. She's having a good day. I hope she has as many of them as she wishes.