Sunday, December 12, 2010

what's going on in the world, mine and the outside one

On Friday, when I was waiting for the last minutes of the day to float by, my mom called me. I answered, prepared to tell her that I'd call her in a few minutes when I left, but she cut me to the quick, and informed me that she'd just called 911 for my dad, who was in pain and couldn't move his right arm or shoulder. She told me she'd give me a call and she told me to call my sister, who hadn't wanted to go to the hospital. (Her and I both have one thing in common: we can be intensely sensitive, and places like hospitals, where we imagine that emotions are on full display, all the time, are not places we are comfortable going, especially not with others who will be there to monitor our reactions, and ask us, if anything, that dreaded, means-well-but-usually-never-does-well question: are you okay?)

I sat at my desk with my head down, for privacy, and as everyone milled about in the room, laughing and talking as usual, I felt like the world--at least, my part of it--slowed to a crawl. Oh my God was the only thing I said aloud, other than okay, and as I got off the phone, I didn't want to talk to anyone. I wanted everyone to leave me to my own devices. I started, for lack of a better term, freaking out. I've been feeling emotionally strange all week, I thought. Was this what those weird feelings were leading up to? I started thinking about skipping the dinner party planned for Saturday in order to drive home. I started thinking about taking a couple of days off of work so I could be at home during this uncertain time. My manager wanted to have a typical long debrief at the end of the day; I was curt when I told her I didn't have time for that, I had to go call my sister.

In looking back at this scene, it is been proven that I am more my father's daughter than I like to imagine. Cut from the same cloth, I am every bit the worrywart that he is, every bit as ride or die as he is, ready to drop everything and make that three-and-a-half hour journey home just because he went to the hospital. Not only do we look alike, we are alike.

He wasn't having a stroke, and the doctors have run lots of tests to figure out what's going on. So, we're waiting. They think it's an infection. I just know that I'm prone to panic, and that just because someone goes to the hospital doesn't mean they aren't coming back out. (Thank God my mom is the level-headed nurse.) Please, keep us in your prayers. I can't wait to find out what the test results have to say, but I pray it's nothing grave.

In other news:
--I heard this weekend that Bernie Madoff's son killed himself. I can't say I'm confused as to why. His dad fucked up many people's lives in the name of greed, and he seemed to have fucked up his son's life in the process. That's so unfortunate. Suicide is certainly not the answer, but I'm pretty sure in the midnight hour, he felt like he didn't have a soul in the world on his side. May he be able to rest peacefully.

--Haven't heard from *him* since he left, and I doubt I'm going to hear from him before the year's out. Even if I do, I can't say I'm really excited about the possibility. Anyone who is willing to move out of the country and not make an effort to talk to you, doesn't want to talk to you. I've decided that I'm not going to waste my time talking to people who don't want to talk to me, and that includes people who think that they miss me when they really miss my vagina. Moving on...

--Last night, at a very, very nice holiday party, I had coffee and dessert. This is a big deal for me because I don't drink coffee, and have probably never had a cup of coffee in the years that I've been alive. (Seriously. I don't like it.) But after a few cups of wine, and with some delicious rum cake, it was great!

--I'm trying to figure out what it is about Miami that I don't like. What it is about South Florida that I don't like. I can't really put my finger on it, but it's there. I'm not exactly sure what it is I'm searching for, but I really hope I find it. And I really hope when I do find it, I know. One thing I know already is that I haven't attached to any of the places outside of Orlando that I've lived. I've downright strongly disliked them. I guess I'll just have to keep moving around until something tickles my fancy.

--Currently reading: It by Stephen King. I'm about 200 pages in (it's 1000+ pages), and I'm really in. It's very creepy, but I have to keep reading, even at night when I get super spooked. Mr. King can write the hell out of a scene.

--I've had my hair twisted for about a week now, and it still looks good. I'm trying to really do protective styling... meaning, twisting my hair, tucking the ends in, etc. Hopefully it helps. I used the famed Ecostyler gel (in the pink container) and I really like how it's holding my hair. My frizzy hair needs all the help it can get.

--Trying to figure out my plan for next year. Have a couple of ideas floating in the air. With a couple floating, if some don't work, at least there will still be some ideas left. We'll see.

--That might be it.

I'm going to not fall asleep in bed reading like I have done the past couple of nights. I'm in a writing mood right now anyhow.

Please please please, keep my dad in your thoughts, prayers, meditations, etc. And keep my panicky heart in your thoughts/prayers/meditations also.

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