Goodbye to my Party Pig Mentor

I lost my aunt Sandra yesterday. She had been diagnosed with brain cancer in the early spring this year. In fact, they had said, when it was finally deemed terminal,around June, that we had 3 to 5 weeks left with her. HA! Boneheads....they didn't know the steely will of Sandra. My mom worked on some words for her eulogy today, and faxed it to me for proofing...I didn't find one misspell, Sandra is working from beyond already.
She was the quintessential wife and mother. I used to dig going to stay at their house as a kid, because there was this whole COUNTER full of junk crap to eat. Cookies, no less than 3 kinds usually. Candy. Homemade stuff, at least 2 types.cake, pie, whatever....junk. If I'd grown up in that house, instead of visited, I would no doubt weigh 300 pounds and have a pronounced case of diabetes today, I'm sure. I was over there a couple of weeks ago and had the munchies...and went to the beloved crap counter...it was seriously lacking. There was something in a ziploc that looked like chocolate. It turned out to be Beggin Strips for the dog. DAMMIT. The hell? There is not supposed to be any less than 5 kinds of chocolate on that counter at any time! But thats because she was unable to keep the supply rolling. (She was NOT , however, unable to laugh at me for thinking Beggin Strips were chocolate something or other.) (SHUT UP, it was dark in there!!) Happy to provide another laugh, Sandra. hee.

I was seriously worried about my mom when this came down at first. This is not her actual sister, they were best friends from high school, and closer than sisters. And fought like gladiators like sisters. And disciplined each others kids like sisters. I didn't know how she was going to take this, but she surprised me ten fold. I've never seen her quite that strong in my life. She's been through rough stuff before, but this was undoubtedly rougher, i think. She buckled down and did the stuff that had to be done, and did it with more love than I thought possible. She usually cries openly if something is wrong, but we didn't see it much throughout this ordeal, she just soldiered on...as strong people do. I hope she understands how strong that makes her, because I don't know if she knows that....she always thought Sandra was the tough one. ( I know you'll read this, Mom, and I know you'll cry, but stop it, seriously. lol)

So anyway, memories of Sandra....

PARTY PARTY PARTY....the ultimate party thrower, you didn't walk in without being offered a cocktail after 5, 3 on the weekends...for some reason that always reminded me of Bewitched...they were always having cocktails after 5, lol. I had a mole removed when I was about 18, I think...Mom and Sandra took me to their favorite hotel bar for drinks afterward. (was that a celebration? what the hell was that about?) Whatever...I felt like an accepted member of the grownup girls club that day, even though they were probably just trying to ease my pain. lol

HOLIDAYS...these little Pumpkin candles she had for Halloween, one on each stair by the railing. And the best candy...no damn candy corns coming out of her house...only the good stuff. and FOOD...whoa, the spread she would put out for 7 people on Christmas. You weren't really hungry by dinner due to all the appetizers. I blame her to this day for my appetizer weakness. Bring me ALL the finger foods.

DISCIPLINE...Now, here's where it gets odd...I don't remember being discipined much by her as a child. She had 2 boys. MEAN OLD BOYS. OK, so they weren't really mean, especially not Scott, but in comparison to them, I had to look like a golden child. Boy that slipped like hell in high school and beyond. LMAO! When I was about to be talked to, I was told "Chantal, SIT DOWN!" I knew it was about to open up there. Many times I was already sitting, that didn't matter, the lecture began with SIT DOWN. I was a good 5 inches taller than she the last time I was told to SIT DOWN, and I did it anyway. :

BOYS AND DATING....I have a vivid memory of her and my mom trying to douse the relationship between my high school boyfriend and I when i was 18. I think they gave me some drinks that night too, lol. It needed dousing, trust me, but at the time, I didn't see that. She and my mother catered an amazing wedding for my Ex husband and I, although if shooting a pellet gun at people for sport were legal , I think she would have had a grand time with him. She would have been most pleased with who I'm seeing now, he's ultra lovable and polite and every bit as smart assed as she, they could have hung, big time.

AN ANGEL, NOT A BABY! I was the first born amongst the 2 women. And this was her proclamation upon seeing my fat fat fat fat face. I would pull this line out on occasion...sometimes in the middle of SIT DOWN time, and it just doesn't work anymore when the angel is getting grey hairs and wrinkles. Hee. She would say I was so quiet as a child...'scary quiet' she called it once. Bet she missed that later on.

So, thats some of Sandra...I will miss her more than words can say, but I feel she's still with us. If I ever have the sudden urge to sit down when I've overstepped my bounds...I'll know for sure. I love you, we'll keep the party going, and I hope I make you proud.

The Sunscreen Speech

There was a song some years ago....not really a song...but a speech, a commencement address, but with a background of music. The speech was written by Mary Schmich (NOT Kurt Vonnegut, as is cyber legend). At any rate, I heard said tune tonight, as it's still brilliant...feast:
Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '99,wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; Oh nevermind... you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you cant grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked...You're not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future; or, worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people' hearts, don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind...the race is long, and in the end it's only with yourself. Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what to do with your life...the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you wont, maybe you'll have children, maybe you wont, maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary...what ever you do, dont congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either - your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body, use it every way you can...dont be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance...even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you dont follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents, you'll never know when theyll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time its 40, it will look 85.

Be careful who's advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than its worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.


Is that hella cool or what? I love that thing. And no, I haven't followed it to the letter...sunscreen and I were never tight pals. My motto was "live fast, die young and make a good looking corpse" Who knew I'd live this long???

RIP Johnny Ramone

RIP Johnny Ramone - 09/17/04 6:25 pm
Sheena is a Punk Rocker - The Ramones
Well the kids are all hopped up and ready to go They're ready to go now
They're got their surfboards And they're going to the discotheque a go go
But she just couldn't stay
She had to break away
Well New York City really has it all Oh yeah, oh yeah
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker
Sheena is a punk rocker now.
She's a punk punk, a punk rocker Punk punk, a punk rocker...

God Love the Ramones....we're down to one original Ramone....in just the past 2 years....too sad. hee....funny thing is, I used to count myself in Sheenas club once upon a time, I was a punk rocker....or so I thought. I scammed my way into Numbers. I heated up safety pins over a lighter to straighten the end and effectively make them earrings. I wore things that made the preppy girls cringe. Nothing made me smile more than cringing, preppy girls!! *Looks down at self* Madras plaid shorts...loafers, Gap tee. ??? The hell?? *Looks at daughter* "Over my dead BODY you'll go out of my house like THAT!" HOLY SHIT...I'm a cringing preppy girl! AUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH *runs off to find a Dead Kennedy's CD*

Awry

My beloved John Mayer has a song called "Something's Missing". He's wandering around, feeling like something is missing and he has no clue what it is. I feel like that sometimes lately, but not missing....AWRY...I love the word awry. It means something is off. Screwy. Not right. And I don't know what it is.

It could be that I'm in love. Love is some killer stuff, happy times. However, with love, comes the 'V' word. (no, not venereal disease.... pervs) V is for VULNERABLE. I hate that word more than the 'C' word. (no, not commitment) The OTHER C word, the ick one. I never use the C word...I don't have to....DebU uses it enough for me and 36 of my closest friends. At any rate...when you're in love, it hits you at some point that if this person walked away, it would hurt and that would suck...so thats vulnerability. I hate that. (so what....I have a character flaw....or 20...sue me) But I like being in love...thats hella cool. 8-)

It could be that I'm about to lose my favorite "aunt". She's dying of brain cancer right now. She's my mom's best friend since high school, and pretty much my other mom. She fought valiantly for me when she felt I was being treated unfairly by my own mom, (usually I wasn't, but she only had 2 boys, so my being a female was novel for her) and told me to shut up and sit down more times than I can count. My mom is doing the hero job right now of taking care of her, and spending precious time with her friend, while my Uncle Jim is in the office during the day. She's pretty cognizant, given her condition, and if she's awake, is aware of her goings on. Mom calls me a couple of times a day to vent, or share. Today she made me laugh my ass off.
Aunt Sandra had awoken, and had a question...
Sandra: How much do hearing aids cost?
Mom: ummmm...I'm not sure...why, who needs a hearing aid?
Sandra: LOTS of people need hearing aids!
(I can picture the idiot look she gave my mom for asking such a stupid question) LMAO There have been times when I wondered if she tried to make people feel stupid, and here she is, pulling it off, with brain swelling. There have been times we teamed up against her...sorry mom, we love you, you know that. I used to tease both of them that they must have gotten the babies mixed up...Surely i belonged to Sandra the party pig, whereas her son, who is a surgeon , MUST have come from my Virgo, anal rententive, mother.

It could be that my own spawn is acting so grown up of late. She's 8. She came in a couple of nights ago, having penned a letter to Zach C., the love of her life since Kindergarten. She had written down the chorus to "Check Yes or No" in a a letter to him. Basically asking if he loved her back. I would have sooner crawled through fiery broken glass than be that brave, at her age, or any! I, being a pessimistic soul that never wants her daughter to hurt, asked her if she was prepared should he say "no'. She didn't blink.
"Of course he does, or he wouldn't smile at me so much." Wow. Confidence. The force is strong in that one.

I guess thats what has me shaken a bit...confidence...or the lack thereof. I'm usually pretty confident. But I'm a planner by nature, and I simply don't know what's going to happen with so much right now. I like to know whats going to happen. Mr. Rogers taught me that in that song. That was rude of him. Little kids grow up, mister! Now what?? I shouldn't turn all the blame around on Fred Rogers. I was his friend. I was special. He told me so every day. Yay for that. RIP Mr. Rogers.

More Wacky Words and AntiDepressant Songwriting

Today, I'm greeted with this conundrum....
K: What does "Brocktude by" mean?
me: (the hell?) what are you talking about?
K: They say it on TV all the time...you know, BROCKTUDE BY
me: *blink*
K: MOM, they JUST said it....after Oprah... you know...."Oprah has been BROCKTUDE BY", but then they show a commercial.
LMAO! BROUGHT TO YOU BY!!

This anecdote has been brocktude by K....a production of Ctal, and if I were to cut to a commercial that had anything to do with the production....lets go with Bacardi, I guess. Let this be a lesson , people, if you don't ask...sometimes you just don't KNOW.


***** She's having a bad day today...8 year olds have crappy days too. Her dad made another dinner switch on her (2nd this week) and she's about to blow her top. She decides to sit down with her guitar (no lessons yet ;P) and write about it. She literally sounds like a small female version of Kurt Cobain: "My life suuuuuuuuckssssssss, why am I aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiivveeeeeee?"
OK, its been said before she's a bit of a drama queen, but I digress...I sit down with her and try to direct her anger in a less negative way. Either try to focus on whats actually making you angry, instead of saying your entire life sucks, or try to find something to focus on thats not all that crappy. She did pretty well, for an 8 year old songwriter that can only strum one chord on her guitar.

Here are some excerpts:
"No shirt Skirts....no spaghetti straps...shorts mid thigh....don't they REALIZE its still Summer in September, in HOUSTON" (a rage against the school dress code)

"If I liiiiiived in a perfect woooooorld, it would be full of millions of Zachary C.s" (an ode to her kindergarten flame....still hot)

"everything diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeees.....my fish is deeeeeeeeeeaaaaaddd, and I can't find my new onnnnnnnnnne, eitheeeerrrrrr. I think he died toooooooooo" (he did, but shhhhhhh, I've told her he's just under the rock until I can get another one from Petsmart....I don't want her on Prozac at 8)