Still Dying

I don;t want to hear a ration of shit from the 6 loyal readers round here about my lack of posts. Having become convinced I am the victim of some super screwy flu-bug, I am sick as a dog.

An illness that started with a simple case of the sniffles, and mutated into a respiratory infection- complete with chunky green goodies being coughed up- now has my neck and jaw glands so swollen up that it can be seen by others... No shit- my ear is sticking out on one side. My jaw joints feel like they were pried open with a hydraulic jack and left that way for hours. I can't seem to find a way of standing up or staying upright for more than 5 minutes without getting woozy and fighting a 1800's style fainting spell.

In any case, keep coming back. I will, no doubt, live through this nasty shit eventually... and if not, I can always have K2 post a moving and emotional obit. In the mean time- no bitchery about the lack of posts. I'll get to it when I don't fall down on my way to the computer desk, a'ight?

Looking Back

My father left this morning; my sister in law yesterday. The house is a complete wreck, and I am sick as a dog with some kind of creeping crud that was no doubt aggravated by 3 days in the wind and rain in Paris... but fuck it- it was a great vacation! The entire family had a kickass time, even when we were just hanging out at home with the kids doing a whole lot of jack shit. Much fun! We are even talking about trying to go back sometime in the early fall- so Rachel can see the princesses and fireworks she missed out on this time.

As it was brought to my attention today that I am slacking on my blogging responsibilities, I will post some casual observations I made on my trip. This is despite me sitting here cycling from hot flash to cold chills with the fucking shitty fever I have.

~French people are not assholes- at least not in tourist traps. They are very bad at doing things like waiting their turn; like for hugs and pics from disney characters, or an opening big enough for their car in traffic. This can be overcome by acting as they do... (and in traffic- it becomes necessary to go into full blown asshole mode to survive.) But they are polite and nice people and are happy to help if you make the effort to ask and listen.

~Parisians are the scariest drivers I have EVER seen in my life, and I would recommend the train/bus to anyone going on walkabout down the Seine. We almost died 5 times in 14 minutes trying to get from one side of the road to the other down the length of 2 city blocks. K2 was freaking the fuck out by the time we found a parking garage, and the spaces there are far too small- even for a German rental. The passengers had to get out and in to the car before the parking job was done... and we had to spot him into the parking place to make sure he was far enough in, and close to the wall, so another driver didn't take off the ass end of the car.Trust me- use public transit in Paris.

~French cooking- famous the world over... from the little bit I sampled was not so different from German cuisine. Slight differences, like more cheeses, and the desserts are to die for (mousse is like 2 new pounds of ass fat in a pretty parfait glass- but so damn good) ... But it is not so different from what I have grown used to here: good breads, small cuts of meat, french fries (pommes fritz) with everything. Too many years in Europe eating European food, maybe. It was wonderful faire, and I hope to sample a wider variety when we go again.

~Being from the west coast, I am not used to theme parks being closed early hours or shutting down events for the winter months... In the winter Disneyland Paris closes at 6 p.m. and there is no fireworks display nightly at the castle. The princesses do not roam the park, as I suppose they don't want to freeze to fucking death in those dresses. On the west coast, for those that don't know, Disneyland is always open until midnight, and they always have fireworks over the castle. They don't close amusement parks in the winter, nor reduce their hours because it is January or February. The west coast rocks. So does Disney Paris- but I would have liked for everything to be available.

~The Europe Disney's castle is WAY prettier than the one in Anaheim. My theory being that as they have real castles in Europe that have to go above and beyond to impress. You can walk up inside the castle here, and usually there is an attraction under it with Maleficent's Dragon. Alas it was closed this time, but we can see it next time.

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I have more about the French and the trip, but I must go find a hole to crawl into for now and pray that this passes, or I slip into a fucking coma until I am over being sick... I will try to better about posting this week- but if I don't... for today, I don't give a rat's ass.

I'm Back!

My feet are swollen, my ass is aching, and my shins are trying to snap in half... but it was all worth it! Everyone had an awesome time... Even after being goaded into the Aerosmith Rockin Coaster twice... I made pretty faces (Puckered up like a screaming asshole) and it was documented for posterity, but I shan't be posting those here. This is a good one of the hub and I near Pirates of the Caribbean.

We even did the last minute token trip to Paris to see the Tower and Notre Dame... Despite the nasty rumors about the French being roaring assholes- everyone we met and talked to was super nice. Gonna have to go back there when we have more than a few hours to look around the city, as what we saw was gorgeous.

In any case, I am gonna go soak my... everything. I will post more about the whirlwind trip to France tomorrow... Made some interesting observations I am sure you'd love to hear about!

Last Minute Shit

I just got an IM from my dad that he is en route to McCarran. The last few hours of my day have been spent reminding myself how fucking disgusting kids can be, as I swept and cleaned their rooms for them... while they looked on with a mix of fear (that I would at any minute explode and ground them forever) and horror, (as even they didn't know what that bit of wrinkled gross shit was).

Thus far I have found an empty lipstick tube- I have no clue where the lipstick in it went- a metric ton of hardened raisins, an old redi-whip can (WTF?), and the shorn hair of some poor doll who no doubt will spend the rest of her life looking like a cancer patient... I could fill a new sand box with the sand that has fallen from clothes and shoes stuffed in hiding spots so I didn't see them on normal inspections. My collection of empty hangers has returned to normal, as I have gathered back the multitudes the children were hoarding in closets, under beds and behind dressers. There have been enough candy wrappers to convince me that they have been bribing the closet monster with chocolate for years. A library's worth of books that once bought were never read, but instead stuffed with various bit of scrap paper, last year's school work, and some with a sock, just for good measure... speaking of which- I have discovered where the missing socks go once they leave the dryer via divine intervention... they enter some magical warp plain and end up behind toy boxes, book shelves, and desks- wadded into little balls, so they blend in with the dust bunnies.

K2 is gonna be pissed when he comes home and finds he has 5 metric tons of trash and recycling to take out. I am none too happy, either. I thought I had 1 or 2 loads of laundry left... I found 4 more stuffed into the crevices of the little shit's rooms.

There are also 4 distinct areas on the wooden floor with some sort of mystery substance. It is certainly glued there, as I have tried soaking, scrubbing and scraping it up- now I have it soaking with intensely hot water, and I am hoping to find a jack hammer in the store room to remove the shit. I am convinced it is some ethereal substance from the ninth ring of hell sent here to drive me out of my fucking mind.... if I can't get it off the floor, I may make one of the children sit on it to hide it... forever.

Mortality Issues

I am not quite the post whore these days as I have been known for in the past. While I find my time full of... well, shit to do, mostly, and my head crowded with shit to think about... I have had a hard time finding time or ambition to write about it.

Somehow I get the sneaking feeling that both of my grandmothers are not going to last too much longer... It could be the surgeries and constant trips to the doctors. Yes, it sucks... and I am somewhat emotionally disconnected from the whole concept. Easy to do when there is 6000 miles between me and them.

Worry plagues me as to how I am going to handle it when the inevitable comes. I should go back for services and such- but I can't lie and say I want to. Did that a few years back for my Grandfather's passing, and I got to spend two glorious weeks being made to feel like a 6 year old... always in the way, and more an irritant to be tolerated than anything else. Real nice after spending $400, and 20 hours traveling to get there within 36 hours of getting the call that he was gone. That's even with me being his favorite, and the only of his grandchildren to show up... yes, my cousins live a mere 150 miles away- but I was the one who was there.

It may seem cruel and heartless to be selfish and say I don't care to go... especially on the Maternal side- but fuck all- going means I have to throw that blissful emotional disconnection down the shitter, and expose myself to more pain than just her passing away, but being reminded how insignificant MY heartache and sadness is compared to others, just because I view death at the end of a long happy life as the next step, and choose to think back and smile on the good times instead of wallow in the pain of death. There is also that 6000 miles away thing to consider. Were my Grandfather witness to all that "boo-hooing bullshit" when he went, he would have kicked and chewed ass about it. I tried to honor that, and see him as he was, happy and funny and witty- and I got brushed aside, barked at, and dismissed for it. Fucking hell, I don't think I can go through that shit again. It hurt.

The other side of the family... not such an issue. My Paternal grandparents... they like me okay, I guess, but... I am obviously forgotten because I am in Europe, and it would be thought more odd if I showed up than if I didn't. The only reason I would go would be to support my dad- as his family/siblings are really fucking screwy and are about as supportive to lean on as water. That in and of itself has me scrambling to sock away $400 for another plane ticket on short notice. THAT is really important to me. His extended family? Blech. Never hear from them, really... except chain letters and happy-god spam emails from my Aunt. It's something, but not fucking really, you know? Couldn't give a shit less if I saw them. Summary? A lot of selfish fucking people in that circle, and the after math of that passing would be akin to a national geographic special on the feeding habits of buzzards...

Not that they are particularly bad people, they aren't- but one sibling is and always has been poor and struggling, with poor and struggling adult children. She was fortunate enough to have male children- which makes her kids better than me. (Don't ask.)

The other of his siblings- a real piece of work- has been totally head fucked since puberty, and childless, and has only gotten worse since hitting 40. She doesn't talk to me- even when I am right in front of her- cause she doesn't like my mother- my mother who she hasn't seen in a decade- but she is way too good to talk to me, despite me being her favorite when I was a child. (She can suck my big rubber dick... as I never did or said anything bad to her. Fucking bitch....) I digress.

All this, of course, naturally progresses to the thoughts of my own parents aging. As I inch closer to 35 and 40, my parents are aging. I am not ready to face it yet... Yes, I am a fucking coward. When time comes, I will naturally sail through it with grace and dignity- and a lot of anti-depressant therapy.

The last few years, I have had the intense displeasure of watching my mother fall completely fucking apart, a breath away from committal, when her father died. Now when I talk to her 4 or 5 times each week, I am seeing my mom drown in the misery as her mother's body fails and betrays her.... I hear the torture and ambiguity in her voice... she doesn't want her mother to suffer anymore, but she doesn't want to lose her either.

So every day of the week she does this dance of run Gramma to the doctor, run Gramma's errands, clean Gramma's house, do Gramma's shopping, google up the latest symptom, clean her own house, run her own errands, and try to make time for a relationship... and when she gets home, she laments the fact that she is so exhausted and emotionally ragged, and that she has to do it all over again tomorrow.

It sucks. My own ambiguity plagues me... as I worry for her- since she won't worry for herself- and being glad I don't have to witness it first hand. Wanting to be there to help her get through this, yet knowing it wouldn't do a damn bit of good, and would probably suck me into the abyss of depression and helplessness. In the mean time, I try to be as supportive as I can, (from 6000 miles away), and I wonder how I am going to face it when inevitability catches up to the family.

Fuck, I am going to drive myself insane with this shit! Any suggestions?

Reprive

Today I got my clearance of near sanity.... PDoc said I don't have to come back for 3 months. YAY! Tis far better than once a month as I have been for almost 2 years. I must be almost sane... ish. :) As sane as one can be when she is set with a 3 centimeter fuse on a nuclear bomb of a brain.

The entries around he may be somewhat sparse for awhile- got family coming in, and I have less than 10 days to get our collective shit together and packed into a corner. For some reason I feel the compulsive need to clean out places where no one will look anyways. (See above "almost" sane.) Everything for the road trip to Paris and Euro Disney is set up, even the rental car to get there- complete with GPS (as I tend to get lost often- really fucking often). Now all I need do is wash every sheet and stitch of laundry in the house, sweep and wash every corner, organize all the cabinets, clean out the store room, the fridge... Wow- I best get off here and get my big ass moving. (No, I don't need a roomba!)

On a side note- now that I am transferred and upgraded from asshat cockgobbling VistaPages, I need a test of the comments filter- so please leave me a bit so I can see that it is working. Thanks to my 3 loyal readers.

Moved

We are moved and propagated! YAY! Suck it VistaPages. I wasn't going to say that, but then they decided to hold my domain name hostage while they tried to sweet talk me into staying with their hacker-target, slow-POS, non-loading- Cpanel server. Fuck them.

Yes it's late this week. Bear with me.

And now that I have that off my chest... TKS. Last month we had a fight when we turned off our internet and phone and went to TCom. (Three times the speed for half the price and such...) Well, I go in to pay the bill yesterday, because my premium channels had been turned to fuzz. I didn't think it was time to pay my bill, but what the hell do I know, so I went down there. I even smiled at the son of a bitch behind the counter when I said, "Hi, I need to pay my T.V. bill."

He pulled up my account on the computer and as he continued to click that frickon mouse through screen after screen, he started looking more perplexed. "You mean your internet bill, Ma'am?" I think that he immediately realized he said the wrong thing.

"There is no internet bill. And in case you're curious, there is no phone bill either. We cancelled the internet and phone and just kept the T.V." I was a bit testy, and was accelerating towards pissed off... especially considering the fact that our internet bill used to be $130 and our T.V. bill, which is due in the middle of the month, is about $50. He jumped out of his seat like his ass was on fire and ran to get the log book... Thanks to the fuck sticks at the Ramshaft Pharmacy, I was not AT Vogelweh for him to find said paperwork.

I did make sure to thank him for his time, and I think he found the fact that I laughing comforting. Why laughing? I knew it- I just fucking knew they would find someway to screw it up. He even cracked a smile when I said under my breath, "I guess I'll go see them at Vogelweh then... cockbites." I called K2 on the cell absolutely fuming and told him about the cock gobblers, and the asses I was about to chew off when I got back to Vogelweh...

He called me back just as I pulled into the asshats parking lot- he had already taken care of it. (He loves me!) He went down after I called him and got them to pull said paperwork and find out WTF. We didn't even OWE this month's bill. I paid it 3 weeks ago. That company is brimming with fucktards. Fuck Off and Die TKS, you money scamming imbecilic bullshit artists. The U.S. Government should kick your asses off base.

Moving Day

Sometime in the next 48 hours I will be moving my site off this host and to another one. After much jacking off with Vista Pages over them releasing my domain name, (They are the cock gobblers I wanted to call out last week, by the by) I finally was able to transfer the nuthouse to a third party who doesn't hold my shit hostage, bitch at me for changed permissions that THEY changed, or turn a blind eye when my sites get hacked 3 times in 3 months.... they just hold my domain and let me point it anywhere I want.

I digress.... Should you happen by here and find nothing, fret not- I will get it back online over at Hostmonster ASAP. It may look like ass for a few days and may fuck up like nobody's business, but I will get it fixed up and be back to snarky as ever. (Then I will owe Placebo my first born, for she will help me dig out of the enormous pile of shit I will have turned my blog into.)

At which time I will post about the fucktards I dealt with today who deserve a whole FOADT of their own- the TKS jackwhiffers and the prickheads at the Ramstein Pharmacy.