Cast of Characters

And there you have it. Grandma turned 80 last month. There was music and dancing and enough food to feed the US military. It was with great pride that my mom and I were able to pull off this event and give her one good party after quite a lousy year. I honestly have never seen her smile so much in my entire life.

What did we serve? Let's see. I made a berry fruit salad with mango and brandy and a pasta salad with plenty of veggies. I also brought the wine and beer, and I supplied a pear cake which was large enough for 30 people.

My mom made salmon, burgers, brats, roasted potatoes, arugula salad with cranberries and feta cheese, sun dried tomato cream cheese appetizer, (who serves appetizers at a BBQ?) mozzarella basil and tomato salad, herring with marinated onions, and I'm sure I'm forgetting something she provided. Oh yeah. 3 bottles of Vodka.

We had an accordion player and a singer attend who knew all the old timey songs my Grandma likes. The singer had 5 languages in her repertoire and despite doing "Hava Nagila" four times, I was impressed that she sang exactly what Grandma wanted to hear. I know a lot of those songs because my family sang them to me when I was little, but there were a few I had never heard. Grandma sang along and forgot about the crowd around her. For an anti-social hermit this was nothing short of a miracle. She said the next day that the music reminded her of her time. That sentence really blew me away.

Of course there was hilarity behind the scenes. Mr. Accordion Shmuck ended up being a very dirty old man. He kept singing to me and telling everyone what a beauty I am. He pulled me aside and said, "Why don't you come live with me? I'll take care of you. I'll give you anything you want."

"You mean you want me to use you for your money?"

"You can have it! Have it all. I have a collection of books. They're yours."

"Wow, thanks. Isn't she your wife?"

"Who cares about her? She is wicked. You are delicious. I'd give you to my son but he also married a horrible snake."

"Oh my."

I told my mom later what a pig this guy was and she didn't believe me! She actually said, "Oh big deal. So he put his arm around you. You're overly sensitive."

"No seriously Mom. He did the whole hand brush against the ass thing and pretended it was an accident."

"Don't be silly. That's his wife."

I did my best to deflect this nonsense considering that the music made Grandma's night. It turned out that my dad had a pretty big issue with this gross shmuck but he decided to deal with it by pounding vodka.

A friend of the family with a strong alcoholism problem cornered every guest and said, "You're either drinking with me or you're drinking against me." He put one of the more slender vodka bottles in his back pocket so he could hide it from his wife. Eventually he put it down and I managed to hide it. I told my dad about it the next day thinking he would be grateful but instead I got: "I was looking for that everywhere!"

Another dirty old man, but at least a more friendly normal one, was trying to convince me to date some Lithuanian young guy he knows. The description I got was: "I know very nice nice guy. You very nice woman. Why not come over meet, shake hands, and if you go separate vays you go separate vays. Ok? You come over. Tomorrow."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I vant dance on table at your wedding. You must meet him. I have feeling."

"Who is this?"

"He is musician. Struggling but very very talent. He move here couple years from Lithuania. Ok? You meet him."

"Huh? I don't think so."

"Why not? He hard vorker. He strong like animal. He vash floors right now for living but will do anything for vorking. He have plenty energy. He vant family and vant meet American."

"You're setting me up with some animal are you?"

"Animal? When it comes to making family I sure he will be animal."

"Oh my."

Luckily a friend came to take photos of the event and she stole me away. The family didn't know she was there to take photos because the sneakier you are about stuff like that, the better. Unfortunately my uncle considers himself to be a photographer and got pissed off that my dad didn't have the video camera ready to go. Dad grilled every single item for the party and was sweating over the fire all day. They got into an argument since he was obviously busy and it was settled by them yelling at me to get the camera. Fine, fine whatever. We all should have thought of it sooner but ok. I ran upstairs to get it but was yelled at by Mom who was making yet another salad at like 8 pm. She accused me of not helping enough. I ran back down and handed the camera to my uncle without another word. I didn't follow up because I thought he knew how to use it....

A little later my friend said, "Dude, I think your uncle has been shooting the flowers for like twenty minutes."

"I should write a book."

The running up and down the stairs was a bad idea considering I had recently had the largest asthma attack of my life. I started coughing and hacking and had to leave the party for a while. The attack should have put me in the hospital but I was a stubborn idiot and ended up suffering an entire month of coughing up a storm. A friend of my mom's found me and tried to convince me that I needed a spiritual healer to get rid of my asthma.

"This inhaler. What is it? It's not helping you. I don't believe you should use it. You must find a natural way."

"Well, some drugs are necessary. Besides it's a new inhaler. I just started it."

"What does it come from this asthma?"

"I don't know. I'm allergic to something in the air. It just happens. This hasn't happened in like 3 years though so it's not a big deal. Really."

"Sure. Sure. And what are allergies? The doctors will never tell you. It's a mental imbalance that causes things like this."

"Oh my. It's just something I have to deal with. It only happens once in a while."

"You must talk to my guy. He will heal you. He has a gift."

"I'm sure. I'm going to stay on track here though because I really need to be able to breathe."

"He will talk to you and use oils and herb teas. It will go away and you will never deal with it again. I'd like you and your mom to come with me to his next seminar........"

That conversation went on so long that I thought my brain was going to explode. I was thankful the coughing that managed to break up the conversation a little. Grandma rescued me from her when she needed help managing the stairs.

We had cake inside because a massive storm came in. It got very late and the company completely drained me. I got short with a couple people and really couldn't wait for them to leave. I didn't want to be testy on account of Grandma so I tried to do my best. She absolutely loved the entire evening. All in all it was a tremendous success with the exception of no one remembering to put a tape in the video camera.

Last Saturday I had an interview. It was early. I was tired. And out of it. I have no idea if I did well or not. I do know that the sweat from my armpits made my pink silk shirt completely wet and noticeable for miles. I'm not normally a sweaty person but it must have been nerves. Or it might have been that hormonal female feeling in which your body shouts: "Today will be a bad day. And you're stupid, fat, and pathetic."



Coupled with that fat and stupid feeling comes the necessity to eat a cupcake, which I did right after the interview. I went to a place I saw from the train that I was excited to try but alas. The look of their establishment was much nicer than the actual product. For shame. Cupcakes need to have taste. We already know that cream cheese frosting tastes like cream cheese and sugar, so why is that the only flavor available to the entire cupcake? My cupcakes kicks your cupcakes asses.



Right now I am a Pam with no Jim. It's not that I wish for the romance, more so just the company and laughter. I have overheard a customer-facing co-worker fart a few feet away from me. She is a rather miserable excuse of a human being. If I don't hear her farting then she is coughing up phlegm or belching or talking to herself about how everyone hates her. This same woman told me that I was unprofessional the other day.

The FedEx guy was just here. He doesn't like lifting boxes but I was told to ask him if he would take extra today. He grumbled and huffed and puffed then he left without a word. I had to run to the other side for a minute and when I got back someone let him back in. There were some papers on the floor so I threw them away. I figured he missed the garbage can in his huffy puffiness. Before leaving he asked if I had the tracking number list but I had no idea what he was talking about. He said he left it on my desk, but there was nothing. I realized he meant the papers that were on the floor but by that time the garbage man dumped them. The FedEx guy nearly blew my house down but looked through the garbage with me. He found it, threw it at me, and left.

Last night I drank an amazing Sauvignon Blanc from Kim Gordon. I highly recommend it. I've been thinking about it all day. That and the Blue Moon I drank Sunday. And the Primitivo I drank Saturday. Tonight might be a whisky on the rocks.

Acceptance

Trying to come up with ways to

And then change

But she thinks otherwise

Adventure and stupidity seize

Time disappears

And I want to make something over but don't

Trying for new all the time

Epiphany; it's ok for things to stay the same

All wants are still reasonable but

Settling is comfort

Hummingbirds

I haven't been able to breathe in the last two weeks, not only because of asthma but because I haven't been taking care of myself the way I used to. I haven't gone to the gym and I haven't been to a yoga class in about a month. It's an extreme oddity to miss that much yoga but there was a funeral then I was sick and then I was out of town and then I had the worst asthma attack ever and then there was a huge birthday party. I've managed to take a few walks here and there but with the weather schizophrenia in Chicago I find excuses all the time.

The day after the funeral I attended I baked a Hummingbird Cake. I planned it as a stress relief exercise thinking that I would be emotionally overwrought. However, the funeral of my friend's mom was delightful. Really. Family and friends had gathered to genuinely celebrate a life. There was smiling and laughing and I had amazing conversations with people I hadn't seen in years. I felt lucky to be touched by this family and extremely lucky to have known this woman. She always made me feel like I was one of them and the things said about her throughout the day were just beautiful.

It's interesting when a person you know can still touch you even when you're in the background and not part of their daily life. I have several friends that I only speak to once or twice a year but it's as if I saw them yesterday. Those sweet shared experiences will always hover in memory and bond us. It's truly fortunate.

I thought about this as I made the Hummingbird Cake. It's full of naturally sweet ingredients like bananas and pineapples so I used a little honey instead of refined sugar and only 2 egg yolks total. The frosting was made with cream cheese and maple syrup. One slice surely wasn't too rich but sweet all the same. Martha Stewart's website had this to say about the name of the Hummingbird Cake: Some say this Southern layer cake earned its name because each otherworldly bite makes you hum with delight. Another theory is that it's as sweet as the sugared water used to attract its hovering namesake.

Either way, it's delicious and it made my family appreciate banana in cake which they previously did not. As always, a little sweet helps. I'm going to try and make healthier choices from here on out though. There have been some heavy over-indulgences lately and I know it's time to stop. Not just because it's nearly bikini season or because I'm standing up in a wedding soonish, but I just want to live my best life. It's a silly Oprah saying, but sounds good to me right now.

The Hummingbird Cake was the last of the "healthier" treats and then I totally went crazy with cakes and ice cream and pastry. I'm really feeling it. The amount of food and leftovers and just real junk we had for my Grandma's 80th b-day party deserves its own post, so more on that later.

I will say that Grandma's party made me well up in tears several times over. One moment when I nearly couldn't push them down was when my mom saw my friend come to the party. She said something to the effect of: " Wow, you just lost your mother but you came to celebrate my mom's birthday." The feeling of gratitude and love for him was shared by everyone in my family and the only real way we know to show it is to stuff him full of beers and brats and cake.

Asthma Sucks

The seeds of chili peppers have infiltrated my lungs. The heat and juice of these peppers are closing my breathing passages. I've been hacking up a storm everywhere I go obtaining frightened looks from co-workers and people on the train. A bouquet of peppers have bloomed in the center of my chest and they are content to tickle my trachea all day.

One time when I was working at the Italian restaurant my side work was to empty all the shakers of crushed red pepper so they could be washed. I set up this operation at the table where staff usually hung out at when it was slow. Since this was near closing time it seemed like the right spot. I opened all 42 shakers and proceeded to dump all the crushed red pepper out. The pepper made my nose itch. Then I sneezed a lot. When I was nearly half way done I started coughing like crazy. I stopped for a moment and backed away from the pepper to catch my breath. I went back and tried to do it faster but realized that I wasn't the only one coughing. The aroma of the crushed pepper was making its way to the lungs of customers. I had four other people hacking away and actually overheard someone say, "Where is that coming from?" Common sense should have told me to keep this project entirely away from customers but it waited until it was too late and there were complaints. Luckily the table was a little hidden and only one person loudly said "Oh it's her. She's doing that out in the dining room." I hurriedly moved the project into the kitchen where the bus guys and I were the only ones left to suffer.

I always think of this when I have an asthma attack. The only way to describe how it feels is to imagine sticking your head into a large container of crushed red pepper and taking deep inhales.

In one of my favorite films, Woman On Top, the main character teaches a class about cooking with spicy ingredients. There is an incredibly beautiful scene where Penelope Cruz inhales deeply from a chili pepper and it brings her back to a moment in the kitchen with her husband. He rubs the oil of a chili pepper on her lips and....see the movie. It's cute. Anyway during the 10th time I've watched this I thought about what that would be like if I were the actress. They would have needed a considerable amount of takes to catch me without a deep bark erupting from my throat.

I love spicy food, but don't really cook any.

God Bless America

So there I was swimming in the Atlantic Ocean when a lengthy piece of human poop floated past me. I had taken a moment to stand and move my hair from my face when I saw it and immediately thought it had touched me somehow. I checked everything but no, it was just making its way closer to the beach I presume. When that man had been yelling that the seagulls were eating "it" earlier I hadn't paid him much attention thinking that he dropped some food in the water. Then again who eats while swimming in the ocean?

Another strange part about this experience was that moments earlier I had been reading a David Sedaris book. My absolute favorite David Sedaris story is the one where he uses the bathroom at a friend's house and finds a turd in the toilet that simply won't flush. He frantically tried to get rid of it, all the while worried that the next person in there would think it was his. I never laughed so hard at a story ever in my life but I can tell you that I did not laugh at my moment with someone else's poop.

I thought for a mili second about warning the huge family near me that a piece of poop was coming towards their children but jumped out instead and came back to my towel in a daze. I managed to play it off like eew ok gross I got out of there everything is ok now but really I was messed up. I needed to lay out in the sun and feel the sand and think happy thoughts. However, nearly every time I closed my eyes I could see the poop floating in front of me. This went on for a couple days. When asked how I enjoyed the ocean I immediately saw the poop and tried to think of something more amusing like that fat guy in American flag swim trunks.

It didn't work so I tried to talk about the incident to others in hope of therapeutic release. It turns out that no one I know has come across a poop while swimming so far unless they are not fessing up about it. Not only that but my friends didn't seem all that sympathetic. I thought someone would ask if I was ok or give me a hug but no. They just changed the subject because they are afraid of poop but so am I people! So am I. The friend that I was with changed our dinner plans and asked me if I needed to shower after the beach because she wanted to get going asap. Wanting to seem like a good guest I didn't have a firm resolve one way or another but you better believe I needed that shower! Luckily I managed one and scrubbed in a fury.

Let me be clear, swimming in the ocean or just being nearby and listening to the waves is my absolute favorite thing in the world to do. Combining my favorite thing in the world with excrement is a disaster of epic proportions. How does one get over such a tragedy? This week I tried to remember all the good times I've had in open water and luckily there are many: I went swimming with Dusky Dolphins in the Pacific Ocean. I floated in the Dead Sea. I swam naked in the Aegean Sea. I was treading water in Lake McKenzie when a light warm rain came in and it was an absolute miracle to be in that moment. I've laid in the wet sand on the Whitsunday Islands. I went scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef. Surely those experiences outweigh crossing paths with a poop. At least I wasn't surrounded by tar balls.

I really don't know what you want me to do.

It's not what I want it's what you should want for yourself.

Clearly it's what you want otherwise you wouldn't bring it up. I don't have to do things because you want me to.

You don't see yourself the way other people see you.

Why should I care? You're so wound up in misery you can't find a way to be content with anything at all.

You should want more for yourself.

If you spend all your time wishing you had more then you will never be satisfied at all. I can't live like that. I'm not going to be disappointed everyday of my life. It's a syndrome; something that people see therapists for.

I know. But I only have you. (tears) You don't see yourself. You're the envy of everyone around you.

How can you be so delusional? I just want to be me. If I am smiling what is there to cry about?

You should try harder.

I don't do enough? Let me tell you something. I don't owe you anything. I am here for me. I am not going to do anything just because you want it. You have to stop wanting so much perfection.

I don't want perfection. I want what is best for you. You are leagues beyond what you have. Why don't you put yourself if better surroundings?

So says the woman that wants me to live here forever. I don't regret the majority of my decisions.

(more tears) I talk to plenty of people and they said that their daughters.....

I'm supposed to do what they do? What about just living for myself? I know that you want me to have all the things that you didn't have and want more than what you had and I'm supposed to accomplish what you couldn't do; it's ridiculous. You have to get over it.

You are throwing your life away. You are incredibly intelligent but make stupid decisions all the time.

Isn't it exhausting to be disappointed all the time? You are choosing to dislike my decisions. I am choosing to live my life. I've already done a ton of things to meet people and change my own circumstances. You sit around the house all day depressed. How is that any way to live?

I have plenty of things to do. I clean, I cook, I take care of everyone. I'm tired of living for all of you.

That's your own fault. Do whatever you want. I don't need your help.

You do need help you just don't see it. You're so beautiful and you only hang out with stupid people. You think bars are a nice place to meet people? Lousy people hang out in bars. Volunteer for a campaign. You will meet nice intelligent people that way. Remember I told you about that math professor that is running for office? You should work for him.

Who are these people that are so much better? Where are they? I have no idea what you're talking about.

That's because you're not making yourself available to change and opening your mind. You need to....

I'm not opening my mind? (walk away, slam door)