December 27, 2006


I wish that you would move to the sun
'Cause you're like diggin' holes in thin air and we know that can't be done
I wish that you would cheat with someone
'Cause you're like diggin' holes in water and we know that can't be done
Bravery and stupidity go hand-in-hand
and I guess that makes me the bravest man
'Cause I was quick to learn but slow to understand
Well, what can you do?

December 8, 2006

The barbecue sauce that refused to be taken

My favorite barbecue sauce is K.C. Masterpiece Hickory Brown Sugar. I like to eat it with Morningstar Farms veggie chicken nuggets. Safeway had a special 2 for 1 deal on my favorite sauce, so I bought two.

For some reason, when it came time to open the second bottle it refused to be budged. I mean, seriously, this lid would not move. I have wimpy little hands so I wasn't that surprised when I couldn't open it. But other people couldn't open it either. My nuggets just weren't the same. And what the hell to do with a bottle of barbecue sauce you can't open?

As a last resort, I took it to work. My friend Tony is one of the stronger people I know and I was hoping he could help. Plus, I could surprise him by leaving it sitting in the middle of his desk while he was away just to amuse myself. (It worked. At least the part about amusing myself. He knew exactly who left it there so there was very little surprise involved.)

Finally, finally. He got it open. Now I can take it back home and pop it into my fridge to enjoy later.

(This might seem like a stupid thing to write about, but it's my goddamn blog and I can write about whatever's on my mind. Right now it's barbecue sauce. And it's a Friday afternoon.)

December 6, 2006

Undeniably dear to me

My grandmother is very ill and will likely not be here much longer. She has been a very important part of my life, more so than most grandparents ever are, and I love her tremendously. I went home for a few days to spend some time with her while I was still able to do so.

When I first arrived she was in the hospital. I brought her a boquet of yellow roses and swept in--determined to do my best to keep her spirits up. Instead she lifted mine.

I had flown all night and was tired and dirty and hungry.

While I sat by her bed her dinner tray arrived. She was having turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, apricot jello, and pumpkin pie. (Two desserts?)

She offered to give me her dinner since I hadn't eaten. I said, "Are you crazy? I can grab something anytime. You need all the strength and energy you can get. You need to eat as much as you can."

"Yes," she admitted, "but I haven't pooped in five days and there's not much room left in here." I laughed. I knew I was lucky that she didn't provide more detail.

We ended up sitting together and splitting her dinner. I cut up her turkey into small, bite-size pieces since she had trouble pressing hard enough with her knife and fork. I offered to butter her roll for her, and she said, "No. There's no way I can eat that. Well, maybe just half."

We talked about which nurses she liked and which ones she reported to their bosses. We observed through her hospital room window the grey winter clouds moving swiftly across the sky. She told me, for the millionth time, why she prefers to drink decaf coffee in the evenings. We watched Jeopardy, one of her favorite shows.

It was one of the dearest times of my life.

The first time I was not afraid

Last Wednesday night I flew from San Francisco to WV. It had been a particularly rough couple of weeks and I was feeling very, very sorry for myself as big, hot teardrops ran down my cheeks and off my chin. It felt like there were deep dark pools of misery waiting for me on either coast and I was glad to be somewhere over the middle of the country for a change. I gazed out the plane window into the night sky and saw more stars than I'd ever seen at one time. Then our plane hit some particularly bad turbulence as we flew over a storm system in the midwest at about 4am.

This usually terrifies me.

Instead I threw myself back across my empty row of seats and told myself, "If this is it, I don't care. I'm ready. I hope this metal tube goes screaming toward the earth." All I needed to do was huff dramatically and place the back of my hand across my forehead.

I am awaiting the call about my Oscar nomination in the category of melodrama.