Our First Thanksgiving.

I had the final part of my root canal tonight.  It was as much fun as the first one.  In truth it didn’t really hurt that much.  A little pinch when I got the shot to numb my mouth and that was about it.  Of course the ordeal is still not over.  I have to go twice more to have the whole process completed.  I still don’t know how much all of this is costing me.  I have insurance which is a godsend but I’m not so naive to think that it’s all covered.  I haven’t bothered to ask because I really think as long as I don’t know then it’s all very affordable.  The first bill should come in the mail any day now.  I’ll let you know how I fare.

I spent the second part of the evening shopping.  With Adam.  For our first Thanksgiving.

Our plans have changed in the last month and as of a week ago we weren’t even sure what we were doing.  Originally my mom, my aunt, my cousin, her husband boyfriend and their three kids were supposed to come visit.  I had suspected all along that they wouldn’t come but I planned for it just in case.  About a week ago or so my mother finally committed to the fact that they weren’t coming.

Which left us the question of what to do?

We threw around several ideas.  Have other people over for dinner.  Go to my friend Nikki’s for her “orphan” dinner.  We finally decided to just have dinner together.  The two of us.  By ourselves.  I think we made the right choice.  We didn’t want to go to an orphan dinner because it alludes to the idea that we don’t have family to spend our holiday with, when in fact we’ve become each other’s family.  We didn’t want to invite people to our home because we are having people over the following weekend and we didn’t want the pressure.

So it’s going to be just the two of us.  And I can’t wait.

I’d originally asked off for Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday because my family was going to be in town.  When the plans changed it was too late to change my request.  However, it is Thanksgiving and there are many people who don’t want to work.  So I picked up shifts for Thursday and Friday day.  I haven’t worked a day shift in a while but I it should be okay.  The nice thing is that I’ll have the evening off for dinner on Thursday and then we can start our weekend together on Friday night.

As I type this Adam is in the kitchen doing something with the turkey.  I have no idea what he’s doing.  Luckily, since he’s the best boyfriend in the world, all I have to do is show up Thursday night and eat.  It’s sounds perfect to me.

It’s nice to have family you like to spend your holidays with.

Ugh!!!!

I’m ready for a new life.

This one is perfectly fine.

But a new one would be good.

Just make sure I can bring Adam along.

There’s not really anything wrong with this life that a trillion dollars couldn’t fix.

Of course I know that money brings on a whole bunch of other problems but would it be so bad to have to try those for a couple of years?  I’m just saying.

Things have been kind of tight for the past month.  The move was expensive.  Flying home to Kentucky was expensive.  And that doesn’t count the money I missed by not working.  And then I was sick for four days when I got back.  When I do work, I’m making about half  the money I was making this time last year.  Now I look at how many shifts I have before rent is due again, before Michelle comes to visit, before our Xmas party, before we leave for Texas, before I give Adam presents and it’s about 10 less than I need.

So now instead of being able to just sit back and enjoy the holidays – I worry.  I don’t want my first Christmas with Adam to be like this.  I want to be able to give him all the presents I’ve thought of.  I want to drive to Texas and not worry about stopping to get lunch some place that’s not Wendy’s.  I want to not stress about the Christmas party that we can’t afford but that we are having any way.  I want to enjoy Michelle’s visit and not stress about having lunch out or having people over for dinner.  I want to have fun.

In the big scheme of things, it’s really not that bad.  Can we afford to do all the things we want to, yes, but it means things will be very tight in January.

Just in time for us to celebrate our one year anniversary.

Like I said, none of this is something a trillion dollars wouldn’t cure.

I’m just saying.

 

Dinner with the Queen.

The following occurred tonight at work.

A four top was sat.  Ordered.  The food arrived.  They ate.

The server seeing that the woman was finished with her dinner, approached the table and tried to clear the her plate.  At which point the women completely lost her shit because her plate was being cleared before everyone at the table was finished.  She then began to yell at the server because it was very rude of her to take her plate when others at the table were still eating.  At some point she she became completely indignant (my new favorite word) and demanded to see a manager.  When he arrived, she began again.

By the time I heard all of this the server was almost crying in the wait station, because of course, the manager didn’t take her side.  He let the guest be right.  At some point I guess our new “English” manager explained that this was an English custom that some people were very strict about.

And my comment.

FUCK HER!!!

This is not fine dining.  It’s not even close.  You are eating a hamburger with french fries using a fucking paper napkin.  The mayonnaise you were given is in a plastic ramekin, and you are quirting ketchup directly from the bottle.  When you order tea, it’s Lipton, and the mug isn’t even on a saucer.  And if I’m your server you don’t even get a spoon.  You get a little cocktail straw.  Hmmm.  The server was being rude.

Once again.

Fuck you.

You want to know what’s rude.  Going to another country and then proceeding to demand that your customs be followed.  Fuck you.  Fuck you.  Fuck you.  If I’d been your waiter I’d have laughed at you.  I might have gotten fired but I probably would have told you that you were being rude.  Seriously.  You don’t get to be indignant over a 13 dollar cheeseburger.  You want fine dining go find fine dining.  You want “proper” service, don’t go to high volume restaurant where the server’s job is to get you in and out in as little time as possible.  Don’t go to a restaurant where the other 99% of the people want their plates cleared as soon as they finished.  The next time you need “proper” service call up your fucking queen and see if she’s available for dinner.  Even better stay home and cook yourself and you won’t have to deal with this at all.

Oh.

And it’s really rude.

To yell and berate someone in public.

In the big scheme of things on the rudeness scale.

Clearing your plate early.  1.

Yelling at a server.  99

Once again.

FUCK.

YOU!!!!!

 

 

A View from the Window.

I feel like I’m a character in Rear Window when I’m sitting at my computer.  Because of space constraints and logistical issues, my desktop has landed in the guest room right in front of the window.  It’s a large window that looks out on the courtyard where the garbage cans are kept as well as the grassy area next door.  When it’s light outside, especially at dusk, it looks like a set from a movie.  There are fire escapes, glows from the windows that are set into large brick apartment buildings.  It’s both peaceful and disconcerting all at the same time.  At night it’s very different.  When the lights are on in the bedroom I can only see the courtyard below lit by the amber security lights.  Unless a light is on in a window across the way I look out into darkness.  Most of the time I don’t think about it.  But some nights, like tonight, I realize that out there, in the twenty or so apartments that I can see, someone could be watching me.  I don’t think this in the narcissistic sort of aren’t they lucky to be able to see me way.  More in the “this is kind of creepy” sort of way.  When I stop and think about it, sometimes I have to get up and walk away to get rid of the weird feeling.  Of course there are times when I’m the one doing the watching.  I’m sitting at my computer working and a light pops on across the way.  Try as I might to not look I find that I’m not able.  Of course I probably wouldn’t mind if the neighbor across the way was “hot”.  He is gay.  He’s just not hot.  Well not to me anyway.  Even if he was, I wouldn’t write that because I’d come home tomorrow and Adam would have moved my computer into the living room away from the window.  So I should probably be grateful for that.  I’ll have Adam take pictures sometime of the view.  It would be nice to post them.

Maddog’s Weekend.

So let’s see.

Last weekend.

Desperate Housewives.

Dreamgirls.

Precious.

Love, Loss, and What I Wore.

It was an all female weekend for Adam and me.

As I mentioned I was sick all last week and didn’t work.

Since I’d already given away my Friday shift, when Adam called and said he’d gotten tickets to see Dreamgirls…at the Apollo.  I suddenly felt better.  I’ve been singing the music since it first opened on Broadway.  I can do a mean “I’m Not Going”.  I saw the movie opening day and loved it, although there were something musically from the play that I missed.  But I’ve never seen the show live.  So to not only see the new production of it, but to see it at the Apollo where the play starts and ends was amazing.  Suddenly I found that I wasn’t as sick as I thought I was.

The show was awesome.  (That’s become my word of choice lately.  Awesome!)  Okay the book has some problems.  And the cast is a little weak in the beginning when the “drama” hasn’t started yet.   Musically the cast was incredible.  They were clearly better singers than actors.  By the time we were 20 minutes in, I was smitten.  I love when a woman stands down center and belts a song.  I think if the actor can sell it there is very little else in the theater that has that power.  Effie had that power.  When the set pulled a way and we were left with just her downstage in a single spot belting I’m not going I got goosebumps.  It’s one of the few times I’ve seen people on their feet during a show when it wasn’t curtain call.  The rest of the show was just as wonderful.

My absolute favorite part of the show was during one of the big numbers the wall of lights on each side of the stage, pivoted on stage and then pushed down just behind the girl singing.  It was about 150 lights and the effect was “awesome.”  I was still talking about it on Sunday.  That being said, the design of the show is great.  The sets, costumes and lights were great to see.  It was definitely my cure for the common cold.

Saturday was chore day.  We still had a ton of work to do on the apartment and we wanted it all done by the end of the weekend.  It’s done by the way.  So we cleaned, move things around, and then late in the afternoon we called a car service and had them send over a SUV.  We loaded it up with everything that would fit and had them take us to our storage place which is about three blocks from where we live.  We unloaded everything, got it upstairs and took about an hour getting it all to fit.  When we go back to get our Xmas stuff I’ll take a picture.  It took some work but it’s all in there.  We tossed the last thing in, and slammed the door.

We ended the day on the couch, eating take out and watching about three episodes of Desperate Housewives from the past couple of weeks.  Adam told me a couple of weeks ago that I’m Tom from that show.  I think he meant it as a compliment but I’m still not sure.

Sunday was our busy day out.

We had brunch with Adam’s friend John.

Then we were off to the movies.

Run.  Don’t.  Walk.  To see Precious.  It’s AWESOME!!!!!   Let me repeat that.  AWESOME!!!!!  Yes, it’s a little heavy.  And Depressing.  And you’ll need four BOXES of tissues but you’ll also know when you leave that you’ve experienced something.  It’s a you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll bawl film.  And Precious, Gabby Sidibe is insane.  It’s hard to believe that someone who’d never been in front of a camera before could pull off such a performance.  You’ll definitely hear about this film come Oscar time.  For me the movie was emotional because several of the characters come just a little too close to home for me.  That’s an entirely different post but something I’ll have to think about sharing.

After the movie, we ran to the theater to see Love, Loss, and What I Wore.  It’s a show based on a book of drawings done by a women documenting the clothes she wore throughout her life.  The play is performed by five actors all on book who tell the stories of women and their clothes.  As in the world of The Vagina Monologues, the cast is revolving, so it’s a different set of five actors every week.  We got Mary Birdsong, Tyne Daly, Lisa Joyce, Jane Lynch, and Mary Louise Wilson.  Adam sought out tickets because he wanted to see Jane Lynch.  Anyone out there in Glee land knows that Jane Lynch plays Sue.  She was good.  I’d have to say Tyne Daly stole the show.  She has very expressive face and there were many times that she had the audience laughing just by raising one eyebrow.  The show is meant for women.  The audience was composed of women and gay men.  We actually heard one woman leaving the theater talking about how surprised she was to see so many men in the audience.  IT’S BECAUSE THEY ARE GAY AND GAY MEN LOVE WOMEN’S CLOTHES.  This show too has it’s faults.  It’s a little heavy handed at times and the last monologue was a little too “serious” for the show.  It was meant to make the show have some umf to it.  It didn’t help.  I had a great time.  I think Adam was bored.  I wouldn’t run out and see it again, unless of course we went the night Samantha Bee and Kristin Chenowith are in.  I might be convinced to see it that night.

And that’s up through last Sunday night.

I’m sleepy, so I’m going to hit publish and go to bed.  I apologize in advance for typos, verb/subject agreement problems, spelling, or anything that might indicate that I’m stupid or on drugs.

 

 

Maddog’s return…

It’s been while.

When last we talked I’d flown home because my Aunt Doo was sick.  My family was pissing me off, and I was miserable as I’m wont to be when I’m at home.

Since then.

My aunt was released the next day.  We still don’t know what happened, or why she had the seizures she had.  We are still amazed that the hospital released her.  Actually everyone we’ve talked to in the medical profession is amazed that she was released without any idea what caused the problem in the first place.

I think several members of my family are still mad at me.  Seems I was inappropriate in my remarks toward them, despite the fact that they seemed to have only come to the hospital to talk about her.  I still think the time to make life changing decisions that are not your decisions to make are not when the person is in the hospital.  If you are so concerned then help her make the choice now.  Don’t wait till she’s practically unconscious to do so.

On Saturday night my mother cried saying that I’d been mean to her, and that I’d hurt her feelings.  I did the right thing and apologized but I’m not sure I meant it.  My favorite part was when my mother said, “Just don’t expect me to help next time.  Next time I won’t even go to the hospital.  You people are on your own.”

I love my family.

And so I got up Saturday LATE afternoon after being up for more than 24 hours.  I actually got up at 8:00 to find out that my aunt had already been sent home and so decided to go back to bed.  I got up around 4:00, grabbed a Diet Coke and sat in the kitchen talking to my mom.  She had a bowl of Halloween candy sitting on the table and I picked up a tootsie roll and popped it into my mouth.  I chewed two times and promptly pulled a filling and half my tooth out of my jaw.

FUCK!!!

Luckily it didn’t hurt but I figured it was only a matter of time till it would start to hurt.

This did however supply me with a good excuse to go home early.  So on Sunday morning I got up and told my mom that I really needed to get home so I could get to my dentist before the tooth started to hurt and I had to see someone in an emergency situation.  I’d of course already made the plans before I ever told her about it.  It was going to cost almost 75 dollars more to change my flight than the original flight cost in the first place.  It was only going to cost 100 dollars to drive home.  So I went to the airport picked up a car, went to my aunt’s house picked her up and took her to lunch as I’d promised and at 3:00 pulled on to the interstate to drive home.

I got home around 3:30 a.m.

Thank god.

Of course about 30 minutes into the trip I could feel my throat start to get scratchy.  By the time I got home I didn’t have much of a voice.  I was holding out hope that it wasn’t anything serious.

On Monday I got up early and called the dentist.  They could see me on Tuesday.

I woke up Tuesday and felt like shit.  Absolute shit.  I called the dentist to see if I should cancel.  I was told, “They wear masks, just come on in.”

So I did.  It took about 15 minutes to have a temporary filling put in.  And then I was told, YOU ARE GOING TO NEED A ROOT CANAL.  FUCK.  FUCK.  FUCK.

I made the appointment.  I didn’t even ask how much it was going to cost.  I just did it.  My appointment was for Friday.

And then I went home.  I’d been home about two minutes when I got a text from my friend Nick at work wanting to know where the fuck I was.  They were saying that I was a “no call/no show”.

FUCK.  FUCK.  FUCK.

I called work.  Seems that although I called work on Thursday night/Friday morning at 4:00 about ten minutes after I booked the flight and left a message saying that I wouldn’t be back to work till Wednesday and that I’d called again Friday morning from the airport and actually spoken to a manager, NO ONE had been told I wouldn’t be there.  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.   I wasn’t in trouble.  I was just pissed.

My throat was still feeling scratchy and I was still hoping for the best.

The best didn’t happen to be in my stars.

On Wednesday I woke up sick.   Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.

I got my shift covered, made myself comfortable on the couch and I lived there.

I did the same on Thursday.

On Friday I still felt like shit but I was supposed to start my root canal and they said they could do it even if I was sick.  So I trudged downtown to the dentist office.  I arrived ten minutes before my appointment, at 11:00.  At 11:30 they come out to tell me they won’t be able to see me until later that afternoon because they had an emergency.  I said FUCK fine and left.  It took about three minutes for me to realize that I wasn’t going to wait downtown as badly as I felt.  So I came home.   I called the dentist and told them that I wouldn’t be in on after all but they could see me on Monday.  I was told there were no appointments available on Monday and I said that’s okay call your 11:00 and tell them they can’t be seen until 1:30 and I’ll see you at 11:00.  They didn’t find me funny.  I was a little curt and short, but I was pissed, sick and I just wanted the fucking thing over with.  I was finally told there were sorry but they couldn’t see me on Monday.  I hung up without having another appointment.  Just as I was getting comfortable on the couch the phone rang and it was the dentist.  Seems they did have an opening on Monday.  Fuck you receptionist lady at the dentist office.

That gets you up through last Friday.  There’s more to tell as always, but it’s 4:18 and I’m sleepy and have a boyfriend keeping my side of the bed warm.