Monday, August 29, 2005

Wedding 075


Wedding 075
Originally uploaded by trewqaz.
Click here for wedding pictures.

Parents are not Friends.

Wedding was actually quite fun. Will post pics of my awesome wedding hair later today, when I have more reliable internet access.

Anyway, today I rediscovered why conversations with parents are not the same as conversations with friends. Amongst my peer group - and I think most young, twenty-somethings - much of our conversations revolve around how totally freakin' broke we are. Sometimes we share woes; other times we engage in trying to one-up each other.

Ex:

Twenty-Something Guy: Yeah, I'm so broke I'm buying the Oatie-O's and Frostie Flakes.
Twenty-Something Girl: OMG, I made that switch a year ago. You know, if you mix beef and chicken Ramen, it's almost like it's own flavor.
Twenty-Something Guy: I'm so broke I'm buying the individual Ramens. I can't even afford the value pack.
Twenty-Something Girl: Ouch, yeah, that's going home to mamma's to raid the 'fridge time!

This style of conversation should not be attempted with ones parents.

Ex:

Dad: Expect gas to run you like $3.00 a gallon today.
Me: Awesome. Geez, I'm hungry, we seriously need to hit the grocery store soon.
Mom: Oh, just stop by McDonald's today. That's cheap.
Me: No way, I'm not wasting a cent right now. Not with gas being so expensive; and I spent a ton on the wedding and stuff. Hey, sweet Doritos!
Mom: Well, car insurance is coming up, so you'd better be ready.
Me: Car insurance? Whatever! I put that money in my tank last week!
Mom: YOU'D BETTER HAVE THE MONEY! YOU'D BETTER NOT SCREW ME OVER!
Me: I'm joking! I have the money, I was just messing. You know I budget for that.
Mom: YOU WASTE MONEY! YOU'RE RUINING YOUR LIFE! YOUR CREDIT CARD BILL IS IN THE THOUSANDS AND YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO CATCH UP TO YOUR STUDENT LOANS! YOU'LL BE BANKRUPT AND EVERYONE WILL HATE YOU!
Me: OMG, I'm not even getting student loans right now, and the only thing on my credit card are my glasses and I'm going to put my tires on there, too, it's not a big deal. That's not even a thousand dollars, much less thousands.
Mom: I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'D SCREW YOUR PARENTS OVER AND RUIN YOUR FUTURE FOR SOME WEDDING!
Me: Whatever, I told you I have the money. Just relax. It was a joke.
Mom: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, yeah, conversations with ones parents are not the same as conversations with ones peer group.

Friday, August 26, 2005

I love Beastmaster.


I love Beastmaster.
Originally uploaded by trewqaz.
So, last night Jasmin took me to get a haircut and to buy wedding shoes. It was a pretty awful experience on the whole; full of awkwardness and embarassment. You know, sort of like almost everything Jasmin talks me into doing. Oddly enough, I wouldn't have it any other way. After all, she enjoys my backwardness so. This is in the instant photo booth or whatever at the mall.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Dang.

The next few days shall prove interesting, I think.

One of my best friends of the past, oh, say eighteen years or so, is getting married this Saturday. I'm going to be a bridesmaid in her wedding. Those of you who know me, know that this is sort of really quite funny. I keep teasing Angela, telling her that she's going to hate me because nobody's going to be paying any attention to her at her own wedding. After all, "OMG Sarah is wearing...makeup? Her hair is...combed? OMG!"

So, in preparation, Jasmin is making me get a real haircut tonight. I told her she could do whatever she wanted. I trust her; I think. I've been pretty okay with it until just now. My mom made some off-hand comment about hoping she cuts it all off, and suddenly I'm quite anxious.

Mind you, I'm not anxious she'll get me a really hideous haircut. Quite the opposite. What if I look normal, and people think I'm trying? I'd have to like, pay attention to my appearance. At twenty-three, it's really just too late to pick up a bad habit like that. What was I thinking?

Monday, August 22, 2005

Chaos


Chaos1
Originally uploaded by trewqaz.
You have to be careful what you wish for, because you might just get it.

The other night when I was praying, I asked God to help me keep my mind off of all my troubles and worries.

He did.

The hard way.

Today I have eight kids: seven wild indian little boys, and one sweet little girl who could probably take the whole group if they messed with her.

Lord have mercy!

Thursday, August 18, 2005

This week sucks.

So this past week has sucked.

Last Thursday, The Boy threw up. The kids we'd had over all week had started throwing up the afternoon before. I started feeling kind of sickly on Thursday, but figured it was mental. Sort of like when you hear somebody has lice, and suddenly you're compulsed to scratch your head.

Then came the vomiting. The week long vomiting. The vomiting that continues even today, Thursday. A literal week of vomiting.

The worst part of it is that I can't go home when I'm sick. Because my mom's health is so fragile, and she's on immunosuppressants, I have to stay at Jasmin's. I can't complain because they're extremely nice to let me stay here, but it's hard for me to be sick away from home. For a whole blessed week.

In only half related news, I finally went to the doctor on Monday. It was just for a physical because, as of Monday, I was sure I just had the flu and would be getting over it soon. But I've had so many weird health problems in the last year (rapid unexplained weight loss, hair falling out, fainting spells, etc.) that he ended up spending over an hour with me and ordering a round of tests. I had bloodwork Tuesday, and nastier tests will likely follow soon. He threw around some scary possibilities for what could be wrong with me; I'm convinced that the symptoms are unrelated, and probably not serious. But this week of flu is making me nervous. Why am I not recovering faster?

So that's been stressful.

And then yesterday, I got in a car accident. An old lady rear-ended me at a stoplight. I had The Boy with me and was driving Jasmin's van, so that sort of triple sucked. The Boy and I are okay, but they gave me some shit painkiller at the hospital that made my stomach problems even worse. Now I've got muscle relaxers or something that I have to take, too. So that blows.

The funny thing was that we got hit right in front of this drivethrough in the ghetto. The owner is this nutty Macedonian woman, who can't mind her own business. She didn't see the accident; I know she didn't, because she was inside. But she still told everyone that the accident was my fault because I stopped too fast and that I wasn't wearing my seatbelt, and neither was the Boy. I'm a total Nazi about kids and seatbelts, so she's full of it. Plus, she was inside and couldn't see AND the van has tinted windows, so you can't really tell from the outside if someone's got a belt on or not. Also, if the driver doesn't wear their belt, the van beeps and lights flash, and you can't drive like that, so I had to wear it whether I liked to or not. Crackpot.

When we were leaving, she yelled and asked who got cited. I said: "She did, because she hit me." She said: "You were the one driving like a maniac! I see you all the time driving through here like a maniac! If you wouldn't have been trying to run that stoplight...!" I was like: "Well, whatever!" and kept walking. Jasmin was pissed. Because if the lady wasn't making up that she sees the van being driven by a maniac all the time, the maniac she would be referring to is Jasmin and not me. Now we can't buy overpriced milk at the ghetto drivethrough because Jasmin's put it on the banned list. It's kind of funny.

Plus, it's finals week. I have a paper to write today that has to be turned in by six. Best part of that is, my medicine makes me drowsy and I'm not allowed to drive on it. So, I pretty much have to wait until after my paper's turned in to take my medicine. That means that I get to write my final with a sore neck, back and head. And that sort of sucks too.

Enough complaining! Good parts of the week: Jasmin's a good friend, who doesn't mind my constant vomiting at her place, and wasn't mad that I got into a wreck in her car. I have a doctor that's thorough. No one was hurt in the accident; and despite a crazy Macedonian's best attempts, I wasn't cited for wrongdoing and the other lady had insurance.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Haircuts.

Maybe it's my morbid side coming out, but there are some really funny things about living with someone with a terminal illness.

Last week, right before she went into the hospital, my mom insisted on giving my dad a haircut. Halfway through, she realized that she was really just too sick and tired to be cutting hair. So she stopped. Halfway through.

Because she was sick and in the hospital last week, my dad's spent quite a while now with a half-finished haircut. It's very funny. Like a mini-mullet. Super-short in the very front, old man style overgrown-in-need-of-a-haircut in the back. Like a non-bald man's comb over, or something.

My mom's given a few notorious haircuts in her time. My favorite, of course, was the "Monk Cut." It's a classic. Post-transplant shakes + too big glasses + not wanting to get my picture taken =

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Fuss.

Sometimes I think we live in a crazy world. I really don't understand it. That's less a cry of frustration - at the moment at least - than it is of awe.

My mom's been in the hospital all this week. I had to give a presentation at school. I attended a very strange birthday party. I was relieved to find that a very vulnerable someone I've been worried about is okay. I've had some very bad dreams. I was terrified to find out that someone I'd been thinking was okay, is going through a very bad and vulnerable time. I've been rejected and emotionally distant to those who need me to be otherwise. I've been very disturbed about not being able to do a whole lot about that. There has been a great deal of anxiety and stress.

But some of that has also been overcome. So much of life's pain can be avoided if we lay down our arms and rest a while. Even in the midst of so much chaos and confusion, there's always a moment or two which is ours for the taking, if we're just willing to take it and stop fussing.