Must Make Peace

I'm having the worst challenge making peace with losing my friend, and trying to achieve it before she leaves this earth. She told me this morning via IM that she feels like things are shutting down, and she's not lucid, she's hallucinating and trying to fight a high fever. I'm in tears as I type this, because I haven't fully made peace with this impending loss. But I either need to hurry up about it or it's just going to compound things for me when she does leave and die. I always have difficulty with death, and she knows this, and she's been trying to help me. Meanwhile other friends around her have been jumping ship and ending things on their terms. I am no hero, and I'm no saint. And I haven't been over to visit. I'm feeling like a horrible friend, but I can't just fall off the face of the earth either. It's just not right. I hate funerals, too. I have been known to avoid them because I just loathe them. I don't want people boohooing over losing me. I'm pretty sure she doesn't either. As a matter of fact, she wants everyone to go to Disney. That's her happy place. And I'm ever-grateful that the year Disney let you in for free on your birthday, that we went together on my birthday without kids (well, except the freshly planted one that was suspected but not confirmed) and had a blast. She jokes that she got me knocked up on the teacups. She always introduces me to people as her friend from high school who married the high school sweet heart, has four kids and is still skinny, and STILL has sex with her husband! (Well, that's what you're *supposed* to do!)
And as I'm standing in my kitchen, with tears and snot filling my face, my 10 year old is making a fruit salad for herself, and singing "yummy yummy, fruit salad!", I think in an attempt to cheer me up a little. I'm creeping and inching towards making peace with my friend's impending demise, but I hate death. I hate being left behind. I hate it for the others even closer to her being left behind. And I look up and see the chainmaille bracelet she made for me that went on her sale table at one point, and remember her saying "I made this for you, and then when we didn't see each other for ages, I figured I'd try to sell it, but it didn't fit anybody. It was too small for EVERY one. You skinny bitch, you have a custom bracelet. Happy Birthday." The bracelet resides on my fridge mostly because it's got a magnetic closure, and I'm prone to losing things. And it's a happy reminder of my friend since 9th grade. So it stays there when I'm not wearing it. And now my 2 year old is telling me "it's ok mama" and wanting up so she can get snuggles. And she just told me I need to blow my nose lol. She's right. There's a LOT of snot in my nose right now. I'm gonna need a big box of heavy duty tissues.

Babies and Dinner

My husband told his friend T. the news of our impending 4th last week at a sporting event. T went home to his wife K and said "I think Devildog told me Feisty is pregnant. But I can't be 100% sure because I had been drinking." Devildog went up to K & T's house to do a side job for T's mom. I called to find out when he was going to come home, since I was making tacos for dinner (at his request). He turned down K's shrimp alfredo and T's mom's pulled pork because his preggo wife was at home making tacos for him. When he got home and told me this, I said "It obviously did not occur to you to ask for some to take home to your preggo wife." He conceded that he indeed did not think of that. After I called to find out when he was coming home, K called me.

"Hey. What are you doing?"
"Cooking Dinner"
"ah. well. Congratulations"
"Thanks but it's just tacos"

It's a new year. Now what?

We went to a friend's house for New Year's Eve. Actually we went to two friends' houses. On the way out of the neighborhood we stopped at C & S's house, because Devildog didn't want to drive by there and not stop to see his friend who's been having difficulty. His friend's parents were there and we visited a little while. I tinkered with their laptop a bit because C clicked on something one day and changed the course of history for their computer. Then C's parents left and suddenly I felt pangs of guilt for wanting to leave to go to my friend's Open House party. We considered staying so that we weren't abandoning friends, then I invited them to come along to the other party. We went and had a good time, and C & S were very glad we took them with us. C asked to come back next year.

The hosts are crazy individuals who absolutely love to have fun. They have a gorgeous and huge house, that I only dream of owning, and only after winning a huge pot in the lottery. They work hard for what they have, so I am not jealous by any means. However, I spied this lamp on the table in front of their living room window. Not everyone can tastefully pull off displaying a leg lamp, especially if they have no sense of humor. Our hosts have absolutely no problem with a lack of humor.
While there I asked the host what that "Posts" note on the kitchen cabinet meant. She asked if I'd seen Mary Poppins, and how the various members of the house ran to guard the breakables at certain times, screaming "POSTS!" because the neighboring retired Naval Admiral fired a cannon to signal the time. She said that when they get into the driveway in the late afternoon, Mom yells "POSTS!" from the car and everyone runs to their designated post to turn on the Christmas lights. I thought it was SO hilariously clever, I told her I was taking a picture of it and posting it in my blog. She granted permission, adding "just don't display my children's names". Done.

We stayed late, and so I didn't get up till lunchtime. As I type this, I sit here at the tail end of lunchtime, with a cup of coffee that didn't get brewed till noon when I got up, wearing my pink flannel pajamas that my MIL gave me last Christmas, hair askew because I showered right before getting into the bed, and my New Year's ham is still in the freezer. We're likely to have a "Non-Traditional" meal today. But that's alright with me. I'm not a slave to tradition really. I don't do resolutions either. It just leads to trouble. For now though, I will at least take down the old calendars, turn the page on my FLYLady calendar and figure out something we can eat for dinner. I would really prefer to avoid leaving my house today.

Edit: When I went to look in the main freezer for something to make for dinner, I discovered that my fridge is not cooling. So, we're swapping fridges with the one from the friend's vacant rental a few blocks over from us. In the meantime till that can happen, we're stashing stuff in coolers and either tossing or eating the rest of it. Thankfully I have another small freezer that is still working.

typos for your entertainment

I was off in another part of the house, doing something else that didn't involve my backside being firmly planted in the chair at the desk. I come back to a few IMs and start answering them, just as my clone calls for me. Devildog put her in the tub rather early and she wanted out of there. Not wanting to allow my friend to think I was ignoring her (she thinks that when we haven't conversed much for several days weeks or months), I dashed off a greeting and quasi-apology, complete with lysdexic typing.


"Persnickety" (6:36:48 PM): Happy Day B4 Turkey Day

"Persnickety" (6:37:56 PM): Faa la la la laaa la la la laaaaaa

Feisty (6:48:50 PM): hi

Feisty (6:48:54 PM): was away from copmuter a while

"Persnickety" (6:59:39 PM): copmuter? Can I get one of those in a store?

"Persnickety" (7:00:39 PM): And do they really work? Cuz I can't ever get those damn cops to shut up...

Grown woman giggles worse than my daughter

My friend Persnickety got a package today. The contents made her giggle worse than my daughter while being tickled. It was nonstop, complete with snorting, gasping and attempts to regain composure. It was JUST the laugh I needed after the spawn-induced stress I had this evening. Amid her inane giggling, she read me the "idiot clause" accompanying her package contents. Nope, it didn't even have an instruction manual either.