Jun. 25: IDCEAYWTPFriday

It’s Friday, and that means you get a post called I Don’t Care Enough About You to Write in Transitioning Paragraphs Friday.

• We turned on the air conditioning this week! This makes me all kinds o’ happy. It appears that summer has finally arrived here in Portland-town. Now, everybody get out and enjoy it before it disappears in a few days.
• I finally got those hotel reservations made. I used Hotwire and got a 3-star hotel for $57/night. When I go directly to the chain’s site, the rate is almost three times that. Yay for all my stressing out over it, I guess; it paid off. I don’t recommend sites like Hotwire or Priceline if you have very specific needs, but when you’re somewhat flexible, it can be awesome.
• These are pretty funny: The Stupidest Women’s Products Ever Invented.
• This week we started on a new chores program for the kids. They’re actually kind of enjoying it right now—I’ve been careful to spread their responsibilities out across the week so they don’t have to “work” more than 20 minutes at a time. We created a reward program, and they’re REALLY liking that part. If you’re an iPhone user, you gotta check out iRewardChart, which lets you customize tasks and rewards and then track them over time. Great motivator.
• Yesterday I took my book out on the deck and sat in the sun for about half an hour. I was worried about burning my bald head, and didn’t give much thought to the rest of me. Oops. Here’s how I looked after the sunburn had fully established itself on my chest by evening:
  
   
  Try not to be too distracted by my giant rack. It’s the sunburn I’m show-offing.
• My friend Jim posted this link on Facebook yesterday and I. LOVE. IT. A distraught cat owner and graphic designer neighbor disagree about how the search for a lost cat should best be handled. Careful, you might pee yourself.
• So yeah, we’re leaving for Seattle this afternoon. Kathy’s running in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon in the morning and I’m planning to meet her at the finish line—or more specifically, at the ‘V’ reunion spot near the finish line. I’ve never been to one of these big runs; I hope I’ll be able to find her. She got a runner tracking thing so I’ll know her progress throughout the race—I will think it’s sooo cool if it tells me when she trips or if someone cuts her off and she curses at them—I’ll want her to wear it all the time.
• April and I are going up to Bellingham in the evening to meet Pamela Ribon at her book reading/signing. She’s the fab author of Why Girls Are Weird (and pamie.com), and she sent me all of her other books to help me through the boredom of chemo. I love her. I mean, I love that she did that. If I say I love her it makes me sound all stalker-y. I am not stalker-y. I am totally, completely normal and the opposite of frightening, and if David Sedaris’ people try to tell you anything else, don’t believe them.
• Hearing the Thompson Twins makes me smile. Sweet high school memories.
• I’d like you to meet my new friend Val. She’s super-cool and fun. We’ve had four dates so far but it was on our first date that I knew I would love her.
  
  
  Val’s husband is half-Asian, so this is how Victor described her to Katie and Jack when they asked whose house I’d just been at: “She’s a whitey with a weird last name, just like Mom.”
• My grandma has returned to Oregon. My mom and brother-in-law drove her back this week. It’s looking like she’ll need to go into assisted living, which she’s not going to be pleased about; Mom and Uncle Paul are hoping to talk to her about it this weekend. I’m glad I won’t be anywhere near them when she hears that news.
• I recommend y’all read this article by Rev. Patrick S. Cheng, Ph.D.: ‘Love The Sinner, Hate The Sin’ And Other Modern-Day Heresies, recently published at The Huffington Post. I think if more Christians had this Christ-like attitude, they would be seen as a much less sanctimonious, judgmental group. Sadly, the ones who really do feel this way are often too quiet about it and let the jackasses speak for them. Let the nice guys preach on the street corners, not the hateful loonies!

Those of us who walk the Christian path should reject the modern-day heresy of "love the sinner, hate the sin," especially when it comes to LGBT people. Instead, we should focus on the two great commandments of (1) loving God with all of our hearts, souls, and minds, and (2) loving our neighbors as ourselves (see Matt. 22:37-40). Nothing more and nothing less. We should spend far less time worrying about how to make others repent, and far more time worrying about our own repentance, or metanoia. If we truly believe in a gospel of grace as opposed to a cult of works-righteousness, then we should believe that God -- and not humans -- will take care of the rest.

• Speaking of nice guys, I’ve got a lunch date on Monday with two of my favorite people: Sherilee and Kim F’n! How lucky am I? The fun with Kim will continue into Tuesday, when she’ll be my chemo buddy for the day. Fellow patients, ye be warned. We kinda rock the hell out of that chemo room, what with the Pop Rocks and IV pole dancing and noise OMG the noise!
• Here’s an eBay auction that’ll give you a chuckle: http://item.ebay.com/200487505908. I ♥ The Bloggess.
• Except for overnight trips to Salem and downtown Portland, this weekend in Seattle will be my first “vacation” in many months. I’m totally out of practice with packing for out-of-town weekends. Let’s see, what will I forget? It’s usually a toothbrush or deodorant or jammies. Vic often forgets underwear. Katie almost always forgets her much-needed hairbrush, and the last thing on Jack’s mind is anything to do with grooming or cleanliness. I’m gonna be Smart Mommy™ and examine ALL of our bags before we load them into the car.

Have a great weekend!

Jun. 24: Thursday Thunks #10

Thursday Thunks (TT) is a blog meme for those who need a little kick in the butt to find something to post about. Your blog posts/answers to TTs can be type or pictures, doesn’t matter! YOU pick, not us, we just give you the assignment (yep, just like English class... only we won’t grade your spelling and grammar).

1. It officially became summer on Monday. What’s your favorite part of winter?
   I love the holiday season and snuggling up in warm sweaters and blankies, but I think my favorite part of winter is when it’s finally over.
2. What was your worst summer vacation ever?
   Probably one of my summers between two years of college. Some of those kinda sucked.
3. Tell us about the best job that you ever had.
   Definitely my software training position at Catapult. Fun coworkers, fun work, constantly learning new things. If not for most of the students from one large county, it would’ve been PERFECT.
4. Who is probably talking a load of crap about you right now?
   Someone I don’t like anyway.
5. An alien appears and offers you the opportunity to repeat one year of your life. You will still know everything that you know now. He explains that no matter what you do differently, when you are returned to the present nothing will have changed. What year would you pick and why?
   Hmmmm… probably 1989. I turned 21 that year, and wasted a lot of my time pining over a boyfriend that didn’t matter. However, there were a lot of good things too, so I’d want to repeat that year to fix the stupid stuff I did and re-live all the awesomeness.
6. Name three things you have on you at all times. Explain why.
   Phone— for obvious reasons.
   Lipstick—can’t stand dry, pale lips.
   Hat or scarf—these days, there’s always one nearby in case I have to do a quick cover.
7. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?
   Probably that snotty exchange of letters between me and my grandmother a while back.
8. If you could have everyone in the blogosphere read one of your posts, which one would you pick and why?
   I have no idea. There aren’t very many I’m that proud of. I guess it’d have to be this one, in which I explain the mystery that is Jen. <cough, cough>
9. What would be the worst entertainment or sporting event that you could be forced to watch?
   With apologies to my football-loving friends, here’s my interpretation of that sport: someone blows a whistle, a bunch of guys run into each other and fall in a big pile, someone blows a whistle, the players spend a little too much time in the pile, the guys in the studio talk about the ‘play’ for ten minutes, then it all happens again. There’s also a ball in there somewhere. Sooooo booooooring.

Jun. 18: IDCEAYWTPFriday

It’s Friday, and that means you get a post called I Don’t Care Enough About You to Write in Transitioning Paragraphs Friday.

• What are your plans for Father’s Day? We don’t have any. I should probably work on that.
• Here are 11 of the worst Father’s Day gifts you could give. I think the branding iron is kinda cool, but the rest are pretty bad. There are no nose hair trimmers on the list—does that mean those are a good gift? I sorta need to know ASAP.
• School’s out. I managed to keep Katie and Jack busy yesterday—they played with friends, watched a little TV, and we ran some errands—but this morning Katie said she missed school. I’ve got a big ol’ job chart all set up for them to earn extra allowance all summer, though, so if they tell me they’re bored I can point to that and maybe they’ll leave me the hell alone.
• (“Super Mom.” That’s the phrase you were looking for.)
• I got each of the kids a workbook for transitioning into their new grades in the fall. (As further proof of my complete nerdism, I loved that kind of thing when I was in grade school.) They’re actually pretty excited about them, but we’ll see how far they get before the workbooks mysteriously go missing. That always happens, doesn’t it?
• Last weekend I found some IKEA items that have changed life at The House of Manullang. I usually keep a grocery bag under my desk for paper recycling, and it looks messy and ugly; I replaced it with one of these nylon recycling bags:
  
  
  They’re a little taller than a paper grocery bag, but as you can see, not as ugly and a lot more durable. They were $6.99 for the set of three. Don’t tell Mr. IKEA, but I would’ve paid that for just one.
  
  I also found these cute metal plant support sticks that look way nicer than wooden dowels or big stakes in the yard. They were $1.99 for a set of two, and come in either black or silver:
  
   
  
  One of the other fun and inexpensive things we got were these small blown glass lamps ($6.99), which we put on either end of our mantle. They make for nice mood lighting and now I want them everywhere in the house:
  
  
  
  OK, so maybe these things haven’t changed our lives, but you gotta admit, they are neat-o. It’s IKEA LOVE. So much IKEA love.
• On Wednesday, the last day of school, I met up with Cassie, Fancy Lori™, and Sunshine for a leisurely lunch at Stanford’s. We hung out with even more lovely ladies at Dina’s a few hours later during another celebration of the end of our freedom, where we drank heavily to numb the pain. Well, *I* drank heavily. I think everyone else just sat and watched me. That’s how it felt, anyway. I haven’t had that much to drink in 20-some years. It was quite lovely, the freedom of not caring if I spit water across the counter onto my friends. I will miss those friends.
• I won’t be drinking that much again any time soon, I can assure you. Besides the fact that being out of control is my least favorite way to be, I don’t think I can spare the brain cells. The good news is that I never threw up, and I wasn’t hungover yesterday. Both of those things are firsts for how the few drinking binges I’ve had in my life have ended.
• Ran across this today:

Your child is having a problem, not being a problem.

               Oh yeah, it’s a nice thought. Whoever wrote it has obviously never met my son.

• We’ve mostly stuck to perennials for our front yard, but this year we planted a handful of pansies and dahlias. The dahlias have taken their time blooming, so I was excited to see that this one finally popped all the way open yesterday:
  
  
  I love it, except for all the holes. Slugs are devouring the plants in our front yard. Last night Victor scattered slug poison (or bait or tranquilizer or whatever you call it—that’s the powdery stuff you can see in the pic). This morning Katie came running in and said, “Mom, this is sooo gross! You gotta see all the slime and dead slugs in our yard!” She wasn’t kidding—it IS gross. However, she was sad for all the slugs and I thought it was hilarious. So hilarious, in fact, that I took pictures. Katie thinks there’s something seriously disturbed about Mommy now.
  
  Notice the slug trails coming away from the plant… they end in dead slugs! Yay! (Oh, P.S. That’s one of the IKEA plant sticks in the delphinium that you can barely see but it’s totally cute, right?)
  
  More slug trails, more dead slugs. I laugh all sinister-like at this.
  
  See, this guy was totally going for another dahlia when fate jumped in the way. Don’t mess with my flowers, jackhole! Now you’re dead on the sidewalk and my kid’s gonna ride over you with his bike until you’re flat. Ha.
  
  This all kinda makes our yard a big ol’ slug graveyard right now, which isn’t so cool. But maybe now our plants will live to adulthood.
• Exciting news! Katie and Jack got their own library cards yesterday. This is their first official-ness, except for their social security cards and passports, which I won’t let them carry in the wallets they always lose. They were pretty “meh” about it until the librarian told them the library cards were a little like credit cards. That’s when Jack’s eyes got huge. I don’t think he heard anything else she said.
• So, what would you do if you came out of sedation and found out your family had chosen to pull the plug on you? My grandma is doing lots better now, but I’m afraid for my mom if Grandma ever finds out they yanked her. I talked to Grandma this morning and she sounded almost normal. It’s very strange, this whole thing, but I’m glad for Kathy’s sake that Grandma didn’t die on her watch. Although that would’ve given me lots to tease her about for years to come… Heh heh heh…

Smell ya later, folks—

Jun. 16: More on Grandma

My mom just called to say that when they got to the hospital this morning, Grandma was somewhat alert. She didn’t initiate conversation, but responded to questions. Uncle Paul asked her if there was anything she wanted, and she said, “A hundred dollars.” Later, Mom asked, “How are you feeling?” and Grandma replied, “With my fingers.”

That’s the grandma we know… a sense of humor, (almost) no matter what. Between the personality traits we got from Dad and the ones that trickled down through Mom from Grandma, Kathy and I have no hope of ever dealing with any situation without sarcasm and inappropriate laughter. Oh well. Eventually people will stop inviting us to deathbeds, and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.

I’m thinking the real test to see if Grandma’s back to being herself is if *I* call her and she starts blaming me for something I didn’t do. Then we’d know for sure. Honestly, when Kathy handed the phone to her the other day, we chatted for a couple minutes before she told me she loved me and I said I loved her back. I wasn’t lying—I do love her; I certainly don’t like her all that much, but when I think of the way she was to me as a kid, I love that grandma. I have happy memories of that grandma.

Even if I never talk to her again, I’ll feel like I left things as best as I could. And if I do talk to or see her again, I can only hope that I don’t give her a reason to start being evil again.

The plan now is to put her in hospice in Medford. Getting her from Colorado back to Oregon ought to be interesting. Mom is working out those plans now. I’ll share more as I hear it; for now, I’m still nursing this @#*%& headache and need to nap.

Jun. 15: I am whiny.

It’s not Friday, but you’re getting a bulleted list because there’s no way I can connect these thoughts.

• I feel like crap today. I woke up with a killer headache and nothing I did throughout the day made it any better. I’ve been more nauseous today with this headache than I have been in six months of chemotherapy. Totally sucks.
• I’m fortunate to be able to do a lot of my work from home, but there are some things I have to do at client locations and yesterday, it was time. I went to work for the first time in a loooong time. I didn’t feel up to going in, but it’s not like I’m going to be feeling any more energetic anytime soon. Not surprisingly, I was exhausted after an hour of being there and had to really push myself to stay any longer than that. 
  
  But the worst thing about work yesterday was when I was getting ready to leave and I leaned over to pick up my purse and bonked my head on the counter on the way back up. I bonked it HARD. I’ve worked there for something like eight years, and I’d never done that before. Besides making me feel like an even bigger accident-prone dork than I already do, it hurt like H-E-double-hockeysticks.
• Do I think that my headache today is somehow related to bonking my head yesterday? You betcha.
• The latest on my grandma is that she’s been disconnected from all the machines and is, for the most part, just being made comfortable. It’s sad to watch my family making these hard decisions; oddly, there’s a part of me that wishes I could be there with them right now. Not for everything, though.
• Tomorrow is the last day of school. Are we moms celebrating the end of our daytime freedom? Yes! We’re meeting for a long, relaxing lunch at a restaurant, and getting together again after school at Dina’s. Since Dina is serving lemon drops and lives just up the street from me, I won’t need a designated driver. How awesome a mom am I that I hope to usher in the summer with a drunkenness unmatched by my previous history of drunkenness? I won’t, of course. But a girl can dream.

I gotta get some sleep.

UPDATE: Heh heh. Turns out it wasn’t a dream that I get drunk off my arse at Dina’s party. I should be embarrassed about that, right? I’m totally not. So there.

Jun. 12: The latest on Grandma

My grandma’s still in the hospital in Colorado Springs, and it kinda looks like she might not be getting out. They don’t know what’s wrong, but she was talking nonsense—more than usual, that is—and there were a few physical problems that concerned the doctors even more. The frustrating thing is that when they try to treat one problem, something else comes up.

She’s got strep throat, a bladder infection, her only working kidney is barely doing the job, and her carotid artery is almost completely blocked. Last night they tried to do a lumbar puncture and she went into cardiac arrest. They revived her with CPR and now she’s on a ventilator and completely non-responsive.

Mom and Uncle Paul flew to Denver this afternoon. They had a few hours in Portland so we met up with them at the airport and had lunch together, though we didn’t get a lot of chatting in; Mom spent a lot of the time on the phone, trying to get the latest news from Grandma’s doctor. She just called to say Stephen picked them up in Denver and they’re headed straight to the hospital in Colorado Springs.

It doesn’t look good. What surprises me is that this is bothering me more than I expected it to.

If you’ve been paying attention, you know there’s not much love lost between me and my grandma. There are some minor things to which this can be attributed, but mostly she’s just not very nice and I don’t like to be around her. I’ve said for many years now that “she’s done,” that it’s time for her to go because if she stays much longer she’s going to piss off anyone who might possibly still give a crap about her. I still believe that’s true.

But there’s one thing I know will be hard when Grandma’s time finally comes, and that is seeing my mom lose her mom; no matter how nasty Grandma has been to Mom at times, Mom still loves her because she’s her mother. Grandma’s never been quite as horrible to Uncle Paul (at least that’s how the rumors go), but I know the end won’t be easy for him either. Seeing them both today made me sad.

The other thing that’s bothering me about Grandma’s situation right now is that she seems so vulnerable. This latest health crisis started when Grandma was away from home—out of her comfort zone. I mean, I know she loves being with Kathy, but it’s still not home. So that had to be weird, ending up in the hospital in a city far from home, seeing strange doctors and having to re-explain her health history. And then she ends up having to stay in the hospital for longer than she first expected, which has to be confusing and frustrating for her. Of course, now—if she really is as out of it as they suspect—it may not even matter. I guess I just expected her to go out with a big ol’ knock-down drag-out fight, not lying tiny and quiet in a hospital bed.

I won’t miss Grandma, but I’ll be sad when she’s gone. I’ll be sad for my mom and her brother, and for Kathy having to go through all this during what was supposed to be Grandma’s fun visit. And, if this really is her time to go, I’ll be sad that she went in this way. I don’t have any better ideas (that I’ll share here on my blog—heh heh heh…), but this is never what I had in mind.

All of you who have said I’m a terrible granddaughter are laughing right now, aren’t you? LOOKIE THERE, JEN FEELS PAIN AFTER ALL! And to that I say SHUT. UP. And then I might, when your back is turned, wave at you with one finger. But just maybe.

Jun. 11: IDCEAYWTPFriday

It’s Friday, and that means you get a post called I Don’t Care Enough About You to Write in Transitioning Paragraphs Friday.

• I’ve been sleeping really well this week. Now that I’ve said that, it’ll totally jinx it and I won’t be able to sleep again, ever. But it’s kind of surprising when I get a good night’s rest, because I usually have a hard time falling asleep, and an even harder time staying asleep. Now if the sun would sleep until 8 or so, I’d be good. I’m not a big fan of the early sunrises.
• We’ve had one day of beautiful weather in the past 476 days, or something like that. But the forecast for the weekend is good, which is shocking because we almost NEVER have good weather for the Grand Floral Parade, which is tomorrow morning. We’re not going to the parade, but you can bet we’ll be outside enjoying the sun. I hope it stays nice for more than a day this time; otherwise you can expect to read about a mass suicide in the Northwest—we’ve all had enough of the rain.
• I had the pleasure of joining my dear friends Loveliest Lori, Sunshine, and Kim F’n on Monday for a long lunch. Within a few short minutes Lori and I were ready to punch Kim in the face because of her super-smileyness, even though we’re incredibly happy for her renewed love of life. Still… there was just SO MUCH of the smiling. It’s probably a good thing Sunshine was there, because she would have totally blocked a punch for Kim—sistah was over the moon listening to Kim’s stories. I do feel honored to have these lovely ladies in my life, smiles or not, driving while texting or not, perfect hair or not.
  
  
• I was hardly home on Monday and Tuesday, and have been feeling kinda crappy ever since, so there’ve been a few tasks that have gone undone. One of them involves the top of my desk. Shall we take a look? Let’s!
  
   
  The pink balled-up thing and white balled-up thing and navy blue balled-up thing are my chemo caps, not unders. Just thought I should clarify. What makes me hate my life is that none of those things were on my desk a few days ago. It doesn’t take long for it to get piled up like that, and it takes even less time when everyone else in the house uses it for their crap too. It’s MY desk! MINE!
• Since there doesn’t appear to be a Law & Order marathon on the TV schedule, my desk might actually get cleaned off today. Unless I start feeling nappy.
• (I’m feeling nappy.)
• Since I haven’t been feeling too good, I dedicated most of yesterday to a mindless activity involving the design of our new PTO blog. I keep finding new and better designs, and I get them all tweaked to look awesome and then one little element doesn’t work right, so I trash the whole thing and start over. It’s frustrating but in a weird way, it’s fun too. I’d link you to the blog, but then you’d know where my kids go to school and you would go there and find them and tell them all the bad stuff you’ve read here and they’ll finally know what a terrible mom I am.
• Sonya’s BFF Jill posted this on Facebook yesterday and it gave me the chuckles:
  

• Here’s what being a good granddaughter will get you: a crazy woman who leaves your front door open in the middle of the night and then tells hospital staff you took her to a bar and smacked her. My grandma’s at Kathy’s and seems to have had some kind of stroke or something that’s making her act weird weird weird. Kath says Grandma’s still got her sense of humor, but her coherence comes and goes. Don’t worry; we’re having most of it videotaped for the trial.
• Also, if you’re looking for a good gift for my sister, she’s quite fond of the way Grandma calls her name and would like it recorded and turned into an alarm clock. Oh, she’ll try to tell you not to go to the trouble, but you know she’d love it.
• Turns out my new chemo regimen has some of the same soon-after effects as the other. They give me a steroid (Decadron) in my IV now, and I started feeling all achy and tender yesterday, like I used to after finishing the prednisone every cycle. Ugh. I sooo do not like this. I looked up the common side effects of Decadron and they didn’t say anything about achiness. However, they mentioned irritability. I’m irritable! And they said to watch for mood swings! I have mood swings! They involve being irritable! And then they don’t. But then they do again! Weird, huh? They also said that insomnia is common. Are they not reading this blog? I’ve been sleeping great! Someone’s confused.
• (It might be me.)
• Katie and Jack want to see the new Karate Kid movie. How are we going to get out of this one? When Katie asked to see the new Twilight trashiness, my answer was easy and went on for several minutes. This one, though… I’m just not thrilled about seeing a remake of a movie I was never all that thrilled about the first time around, and yet it doesn’t seem nearly as painful as Marmaduke or Cats & Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore could be.
• Loveliest Lori, watch out; Victor just might post this sign at your next party:
  
   
• Katie and Jack’s piano recital is Sunday. This will be Jack’s first one. Do you know how hard it is to dress a boy for an event like that? Since we don’t go to church anymore, he has little need for dress clothes, and even less desire to wear them when he’s supposed to. I got a dress shirt from Gymboree’s Easter line, some nice navy blue shorts and leather sandals that he doesn’t absolutely hate; I hope he doesn’t look like a big slob. Maybe his excessive talent will outshine his appearance?
• (I kinda doubt it.)

Have a great weekend! Smell ya later.

Jun. 9: Grandma stories

My grandma is at Kathy’s right now. That means my mom is on vacation from Grandma’s special brand of crazy that includes 14 calls a day, half of which end in angry hang-ups (on the crazy end). Two weeks is a nice, long vacation for Mom! Two weeks is an awfully long time for anyone to spend with my grandmother. This makes Kathy a bit of a saint.

While Kathy understands how Grandma drives us all nuts—she pulls $#!+ with Kathy too, to a lesser degree—she has more patience with Grandma than Mom and I do, and that’s how Grandma got an invitation to Colorado. At the end of these two weeks, I think Kathy will have her own special brand of crazy as well. In fact, after reading some of her Facebook Grandma-related status updates, I’m quite sure of it.

UPDATE: Kathy just texted me to say she’s taking Grandma to the E.R. because she was extra-delusional this morning. However, I’m publishing this post anyway because it’s mostly nice/silly Grandma stuff, not the usual evil I spew when her name comes up.

Here are some from the first few days of Grandma’s stay at Kathy’s:

Kathy is anticipating her visit from Nana!! Two weeks of shoplifting and great parking spaces!!

“Nana” (the great-grandchildren call her that, so Kath and I started to, too) has been known to catch things on parts of her wheelchair while shopping and drag them around. Sometimes she’s dragged them out of the store. And sometimes she’s dragged them home. Obviously, we’re all asking Kathy to take her to the Coach store as much as possible.

Kathy wants a good run today! Lovin’ the Nana visit so far!!

…and a few hours later:

Kathy is ready to kick up the joy a notch~!

I like to think these two are related, but it’s probably Kathy just being Kathy.

Me: Nana, I’m snacky. Are you hungry?

Nana: I just had breakfast. No thanks. Count me out. I’m so full I could burst.

Me: Oh, a breakfast brownie sounds tasty. Want one?

Nana: Sure!

Sounds like giant puppy Karma is enjoying Nana’s visit too:

Nana: Hey dog, get off me. Honey, can you get him off me?

Me: Nana, Karma’s a girl.

Nana: Well, he won’t get off me.

One of my favorites:

Nana: Honey, listen to me. There is nothing more important than having a good man.

Me: Nana, I can’t hear you. This tube cutter is too noisy.

During a shopping trip (which ended in no new handbags, WTF???):

The skidmark up the front of my pants would indicate that Nana stops for NO one when there’s a clearance rack!

I’m just glad Kath clarified the skidmark was on the FRONT of her pants.

The heat is incredible tonight. I think I hear Nana popping wheelies in the hallway. So she’s hot, bored, living out some Evel Knievel fantasy.

The next day:

Nana: Honey, I need to do some laundry like my underwear. Cuz I change every day.

Me: Um, thank you???

This one’s the best:

Just won a bet with Nana, which means her missing leg is now a “shark incident.”

And the most recent one:

Nana lives in a very welcoming senior community. When she heard a buzzer yesterday she yelled, COME IN!

Me: Nana, first of all, don’t just yell for someone to come in without knowing who it is. Second of all, that was the dryer.

Sherilee, while these aren’t the evil stories you prefer, they’re good and silly, and I hope that’s enough. I’m kinda glad that’s all I’ve got right now!

Apr. 14: Crisis averted; thanks, Grandma

My mom just got here, and she came loaded up with Grandma stories! Yay! This is my favorite so far:

Grandma called Mom the other day to say she had some magazines for her.

Mom: “Great! I’ll get them from you the next time I’m over.”

Grandma: “Well, there are six of them and they’re really heavy.”

Mom, trying not to laugh: “That’s fine, Mom. I’ll be able to carry them alright.”

Grandma: “I don’t want you to hurt your back, so I’ll put them in a bag, but they’re still very heavy.”

Mom: “Well, I’ve got my car.”

I suggested Mom could use her Camry’s tow hitch and the problem would be solved.

The next time Mom was at Grandma’s, she picked up the (heavy, heavy) magazines.

Grandma: “Y’know, Jen might also enjoy these.”

Mom: “Oh, good idea! I’ll take them up to her this week.”

Grandma follows Mom to the door with one last assurance: “Now Mary, I’ve read through all the magazines and there’s nothing in there that Jennifer shouldn’t read.”

Sooo glad my reading material has been approved and/or censored by Grandma.

Mar. 20: Visit with Grandma

Yesterday we drove to Cottage Grove to meet my mom and hand Katie off to her for most of spring vacation. Cottage Grove is a good halfway point between Portland and Medford, and it’s been our meeting place for the last few years. I’m not sure what’s in Cottage Grove besides the fast food restaurants at exit 174. Cottage Grove is neither cottagey nor grovey, and as there is no evidence to the contrary, a complete bore. Discuss.

The downside of the drive being only a couple hours long is that my grandmother invites herself along with Mom most of the time, and it’s hard for Mom to come up with a good reason to say no. For this meeting, though, Mom asked if it was alright if she invited Grandma and I agreed that she should. Mom and I managed to keep the heavy sighs to a minimum during that conversation—yay us, right?

If you’re not familiar with the back story here, this is it in a nutshell: my grandma hates my guts, and no one’s exactly sure why. I gave up feeling hurt over it and decided I pretty much can’t stand her either, and we’ve been like that for the last handful of years. It’s an awkward co-existence, but it is what it is. (You can click the “my evil grandmother” tag at the bottom of this post to read more about Grandma’s nastiness.)

BUT… since my cancer diagnosis, Grandma has forgotten that she hates me and keeps insisting that she wants to visit me in Portland. For many reasons, we have all discouraged her from making the trip, and she has accused me of all sorts of meanness over it, especially at a time when I “should have my heart open” to her. She says my mom’s lying to her when Mom reminds her how hard it is to get around at my house in her wheelchair, etc., that there must be other reasons no one will let her travel to Portland to see me. Like many ancient human artifacts, Grandma hears and forgets very selectively.

My goal yesterday, then, was to get Grandma to leave Mom the hell alone about insisting on a trip to Portland. A little bit o’ Jen in Cottage Grove is better than none at all, right? Ha.

Usually when I see Grandma, I just sorta wave to her—no huggy-kissy-fakey crap for me. She’s all about the huggy-kissy-fakey crap, so I can tell this irritates her. And while I don’t ignore her during our brief visits, I don’t usually go out of my way to talk to her. Yesterday, though, I went up and hugged her right away. I think I surprised her. She probably assumes cancer has softened me, because HELLO? I’m such a bad granddaughter I NEVER could’ve changed on my own.

She asked right away how I was feeling and I answered honestly: TIRED. (I left out “annoyed that I have to see you and pretend you’re awesome” and “Mom has already smirked at me five times over your behavior during the drive here so you’ve managed to piss us all off before we even see you!”)

She said, “Well, you look really good!” as though I was lying. In fact, I’m pretty sure she did think I was lying. When Mom recently gave her a photo of me and Vic at chemo, she told Kathy, “I think Jen looks great, but I have to believe your mom that she’s not well enough to have visitors...” (Insert eye rolls from Kathy, Mom and Jen here.)

We chatted over McNuggets for half an hour, in which Grandma asked about my symptoms and cancer in general, how my cancer compares to the cancer my dad had, if I caught it from him, when I’ll start feeling better, if I can swallow pills easily, is that why my eyes are so blue right now, etc. She seemed genuinely concerned, and, surprisingly, listened when I replied to her questions. Before we left, she said, “It was good to see you. I feel better having some answers.”

I imagine it would be difficult for someone like her to understand all of this, as most of her knowledge of cancer is probably what she hears on the news or from her friends—no complete facts and research. No Internet. No desire to spend an afternoon at the library reading up. Her word search books tend to be light on the latest cancer news. So while I didn’t feel like I was giving her all that much real information, it was probably a lot more than she knew before and to some degree, it must have set her mind at ease.

So… our visit yesterday was one of the nicer ones in my recent memory. When I hugged Grandma goodbye, she got choked up, squeezed my hand and said, “I’m praying for you, Jen.” I admit, it choked me up a little bit too. It’s hard to be aloof when someone is being as sincere as they’re capable of.

It’s the first time in a long time I’ve said goodbye to Grandma while not wanting to just plain choke her.

Feb. 19: Many things

The weather’s been gorgeous in Portland most of the week, and people are happy wherever you go. Don’t try to explain the calendar to me; I KNOW that spring is here and nothing—NOTHING!—will convince me otherwise. The crocuses have begun to bloom, and daffodils and tulips are popping up all over. Here’s just one of many things beginning to brighten our front yard:

Besides the weather, though, I’m feeling pretty crappy this week. I’ve actually been more nauseous this week than ever, oddly, and I have the weird acne-like rash again. I running on very little energy and I’m mourning the loss of my eyebrows—they are now officially and finally gone. There’s an awful lot to complain about when it comes to cancer, so I’m going to focus on the positives, briefly.

• Showers take a LOT less time when you don’t have hair to wash.
• No eyelashes means no mascara means I can cry freely and don’t need a mirror to fix myself afterward. Not that I spend a lot of time crying… certainly not while watching Olympians on the medal podiums… no way…
• No eyebrows and no eyelashes pretty much means I put on a little lipstick and I’m good to go. My prep time in the mornings is considerably less. Of course, I look like a ghost and frighten children wherever I go, but at least I got out the door quickly to do it, right?
• Naps.

That is all.

Last night Victor and I went to Legally Blonde: The Musical. It was cute, and VERY like the movie. The UPS guy was hilarious, the dogs were pretty darn good little actors, the actress playing Elle sounded a lot like Reese Witherspoon, and it was all big, sparkly, pink fun. A review of the soundtrack on Amazon compared it to Wicked (ha, not even!) and said the biggest difference was that the Legally Blonde soundtrack was better. “Whatev” is all I have to say to that. Don’t nobody be dissin’ my Wicked!

April and her fam are headed up to Vancouver today to absorb some of that Olympic-ness. They have tickets to a freestyle skiing (aerials) event. What a great memory for the kids! I’m super-duper jealous. Thankfully, she’ll be back in time to drive to Portland to accompany me at chemo on Tuesday. Hooray!

I can’t remember if I mentioned that we were going to go to Medford tomorrow, just for a quick overnight visit. Well, we decided not to go. The idea of packing all of us up, sitting in a car for 10+ hours, and dealing with my grandmother just wears me out. I feel bad, but I need to take care of myself, right? I got kind of a snotty note from Grandma last week and felt like I should try to set things right, but I honestly don’t think I have it in me. Also, it was snotty only because of her own refusal to listen to reason; she thinks I won’t LET her come to my house for a visit, when it’s actually that NOBODY wants her here, including herself! Mom can’t deal with her wheelchair on such a long trip, and Grandma either doesn’t remember or won’t admit that she’s always grouchy at my house because it’s so hard for her to get around. It’s easier for her, apparently,  to put it all on me. Oy.

The dogs have been napping on the couch since I came downstairs this morning, and I just noticed what Scout was cuddling with:

Two of my favorite things: the beagle and the TiVo remote.

Time to go outside and enjoy some of that sunshine. It’s spring now, you know. It is! No really, it is! Stop saying it isn’t! I’m not listening to your negativity. I can’t hear you la la la la la la la la la…

Feb. 8: Tales of the weekend

Hello. I am here today to tell you that I’m going to be all complain-y and stuff, but just for a minute.

• I’ve reached the post-chemo stage of hurting all the live-long day. Last night I actually felt the pain come on; it started in my shoulders—they felt very tender to the touch—and slowly moved down to my waist as the evening went on. Just now, I sat back in my chair and actually said “Ouch!” out loud because it hurt when the chair touched me.
  
  I don’t think I moved much during the night. I’m actually kind of surprised I slept at all. Two dreams I remember: April and I were shopping for iPhone accessories and found these must-have WWC phone charms that were $34 and had Barry Curtis’ face on them, and Kim F’n grew tulips that were six feet tall and gave her boys Vespas to ride through the fields around her house in Sandy—where she lived on Sandy Blvd., obvy.
  
  Gah. Good thing my thoughts are only that twisted in my dreams, right? I said, RIGHT??? Why isn’t anyone agreeing with me?
  
  So… it hurts to move, it hurts to breathe, it hurts to be me today. Please don’t ask me to do anything or I will stab you and I mean it.
• Saturday was our school carnival. My PTO girls were great about taking on extra responsibilities in case I wasn’t feeling up to working, so mostly I made myself available for whatever needed to be done. I was able to help quite a bit in a behind-the-scenes way, so I didn’t feel totally useless. Best of all, the event was a big success; the kids had a blast and lots of families won good prizes. We all came home exhausted, but-cept for Jack, whose face was covered in chocolate and bounced off the walls for a couple hours until we finally got him into bed. I’m guessing that a lot of parents’ least-favorite game was the Candy Bar Walk.
• Now we start the new week with a butt-load of things on the calendar. Katie and Jack have their LEGO Engineering class this afternoon. Katie’s birthday is tomorrow. My mom will arrive sometime tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll all go over to Darlene and Wellington’s for Katie’s family birthday thang. For the next several days, Mom and I will be putting finishing touches on the plans for Katie’s slumber party bash Friday night. Jack has to do a speech sometime—is it this week? Piano lessons are Thursday. The kids’ class Valentines Day parties are Friday, and cards must be purchased and addressed/signed. And the Law & Order marathons aren’t going to watch themselves.
• My grandma’s being a pain in the butt again. Now, though, it’s because she’s so concerned about my health that she absolutely HAS to see me. Interesting that the woman who has hated me most of my adult life is now ready to hop a Greyhound to get to Portland, hm? My mom continues to remind her how unhappy she always is at my house—for example, Grandma thinks I put a pedestal sink in the downstairs bathroom just to make her life difficult—but Grandma doesn’t remember. She thinks Mom is being mean or that I don’t want to see her (well, she’s got one right!). I feel bad that she’s taking this out on Mom and bitching to Kathy about it, so Vic and I have decided to make a trip to Medford as soon as we can. It’s frustrating to have to do this, because the idea of sitting in a car for ten hours just to see my grandma for a few minutes is soooo not pleasant. At least if we all go, I won’t have to do all the driving.
  
  Argh! I think I like it better when Grandma ignores me.
• Last night a big glob of guacamole fell off a chip I was eating and rolled down into my shirt. I just looked down and realized I’m still wearing that shirt. How disgusting am I? Probably time for a shower and change of clothes.
• Also, guacamole. I think there’s some left!

Dec. 4: Grandma knows

You know my grandma is less than fond of me, right? And that I’m one of just two grandchildren, but that does not matter to her? And that she has pretty much picked a favorite out of each family group and ignores or is incredibly mean to the other one? For example:

Mary and Paul, her children: Grandma has said in the past that my mom is her favorite, but she thinks Uncle Paul hung the moon, so guess who gets “punished” when she’s in a bad mood? She screams at Mom, accuses her of all kinds of wrongdoing, hangs up on her mid-phone call, and tosses lots of other passive-aggressive behaviors her way.

Kathy and Jen, her only grandchildren: Unapologetically, Kathy’s her favorite. She was good to me when I was little, but the older I got, the meaner she was to me. No one’s exactly sure why; it’s as if she doesn’t think she has the ability to love us both. She’s been close to a nervous breakdown when she thinks Kathy’s mad at her; she invents stories of hostile behavior on my part to turn things back on me and justify her “tremendous hurt and anger.” How does this make me feel? Meh, whatev.

Sean and Stephen, Kathy’s sons: She favored Sean for years because Stephen was defiant and noisy. Then she realized he liked music (Grandma loves music when she feels like saying she loves music) and decided he was her favorite. She doesn’t talk to Sean. She says she calls and leaves him messages and that he never returns her calls. Sean says she never calls. Guess who I believe?

Katie and Jack: She definitely favors Jack, but she’s still nice to Katie. Pretty sure she’ll find a reason to dislike Katie any day now. I’m hoping she dies before she starts being mean to my daughter. I’d love to say I am kidding.

Because of my relationship with my grandma, there was some debate over how much we should tell her about my cancer. I mean, she would undoubtedly be worried; she may hate me but she kinda loves the family drama. It was a bigger concern that she would torment my mother about it all. She would find a way to make my mom feel bad about making open-ended visits to my house—I mean, how can Grandma be expected to deal with the uncertainty of when she would next have Mom nearby to verbally abuse in person? And just the general questions about my health that she would bug my mom with, not having the common sense to call me herself with those questions, etc… gah.

It was decided this past week, then, that Uncle Paul and Claire would share the news with Grandma. I thought this was really quite generous of them. They went over to her place and, unwittingly interrupted Grandma’s bingo-prep time. They told her about my diagnosis and planned treatment and while she seemed concerned, she rushed them off so she wouldn’t be late to bingo. One cannot be late to bingo, you know.

If it had been Kathy, she would’ve been in such despair at the news, she would have forgotten how to spell B-I-N-G-O.

The next day, when I was at lunch with Lori, Sunshine and Kim, Grandma called my phone. I let it go to voice mail because why would I interrupt a perfectly enjoyable lunch with a phone call from my evil grandmother? Later, when I listened to the message she left, I was not at all surprised:

Hi Jen, I meant to dial your mom. Sorry.

[pause]

Hope you’re feeling OK. Bye.

Oh yeah. She cares. I’m glad we put so much thought into how she would be told.