parental units

To be 32 and still live at home is to constantly question your sanity.   Somedays I am completely grateful to have two parents to come home to who love me and who are big talkers.  Other days, the fact that I live somplace and don’t have keys to get in the apartment is more than irksome.My parents are quirky.  Perhaps that is putting it too kindly.  They are really out there.  I originally moved back home  b/c my Mom’s health (a category unto itself) was failing.  For years she and I lived together in relative harmony.  Then I got the puppy and the ceiling of our place caved in.  Had we been in the living room at the time, we would have been severely injured.  Plaster, wood, and paint chips destroyed quite a few of our possessions but at least we were ok!  Then we moved in with our Dad and . . .the rest is an enchanting history.  In fact, I get to relive my whole childhood since Mom and Dad revisit old arguments on an hourly basis.  It is enough to drive a girl mad. I bet you are wondering why I don’t just get the freak out of Dodge City.  Eeeeek.  See, the Dad and the puppy are now Granpa and Grandchild.  It is a mutual admiration society.  I can honestly say that the Pops has never cared for any living creature, including yours truly, more than he loves Cosy.  It’s actually pretty damn sad and cute.  He lavishes her with affection, treats and even carries her if the sidewalk is too dirty.  Weird, but I would feel IMMEASURABLY guilty taking dog away from Pops and vice versa. Cosy has gotten used to a filet mignon lifestyle I can’t provide.  Plus, there is the threat my Dad throws my way when I suggest I won’t live here forever. The man pauses, looks straight at me with tears in his eyes:  But I’ll die without her. 

Christ on the cross- he WOULD.  He’d do it out of spite.  An 87 year old should not be able to say that with such sincerity.  

 that’s just one of the many reasons why I stay.  

Lenten promises

If you are like me you have been to too many hospitals in your lifetime.  My experiences with hospitals range from the simple to the catastrophic and most are as a result of my Mom’s terrible health.  My Mom suffers from diabetes, hypertension, elevated cholesterol, bouts of dizziness, arthritis and mental illness (i’m not even ready to discuss the latter yet).  In my lifetime, I have visited more doctors and hospitals than I like.  I admire the professionals who work in these settings b/c they are really depressing. Today, while i was laying in my bed with strep throat after having finished a sensational 2.5 hours of watching HBO’s In Treatment ( I should really blog about this show!), I got a call.  Mom had stepped out to go to the dentist for what was supposed o have been a routine visit as she is having a root canal soon.  Apparently, Mom fainted and knocked herself out at the dentist office.  Immediately, I went into panic mode.  WHY did she faint?  I am not exactly one of those people who i calm in a crisis.  Correction: I appear totally calm and in control and inside am a jumble of contradictory and often dark, dark thoughts. I assume the worst.   Especially, since she and I had a HUGE blowout the night before.  I’d gotten in at 9:30pm (gasp!) even though I had said I would be in at 10.  So my being early was somehow inconvenient.  Go figure.  But back to the point- which is that I immediately jumped to the super crazy conclusion that our argument caused her to faint. Got ready and was going to take a cab.  Instead of taking this cab, my Dad offered to drive me.  Wasn’t that sweet and. . .normal of him?  Except that since it was just the two of us dear Cosette had to come too b/c she has never been alone!!  My puppy would lose it if left alone.  After chasing the pups around to get her to leave the apt. we finally made it out in a drizzle.  So it’s panicky  and feverish me, a frantic 87 year old, a dog that loathes rain all in a car to St. Barnabas Hospital. Did I mention that Cosette gets nervous in a car?  She’s clinging to me for dear life, much as a little bebe would.  I am trying to keep it together.  Am failing. When we get to  the hospital, my Father realizes we can’t take Cosette into the hospital so she and I it in the car while he goes in.  To make a long story short, the woman is fine.  She’s being observed.  Pops decided we didnt’ have to wait,  threw money at her to get a cab back home. WTF!!!!   While he was in the e.r. I was in the car freezing and wondering if somehow I made a mistake with my Lenten promise.  Every year, Catholics around the globe offer something up in observation of the season.  Last year I gave up coffee which was an error of EPIC proportions- i was a grumpy zombie for 40 days.  This year I decided to give up COMPLAINING. what a dummy!  who gives up complaining?  On the up side, I do feel slightly virtuous and good.  I do complain about things far more than I ought to.  On the down side, venting is. . .healthy.  Life is often fabulous and darling but just as often life can be a shitbowl and people irritating fish in that bowl. anyway, all is ok for now.  And this blog seems like a really long complaint.