Another Thanksgiving, Put Away For Another Year

This Thanksgiving was the tenth anniversary of my mother's death. I willed myself not to think of it all day. We had a very lazy day, Martin, and Mia, and me. We slopped around in our pjyamas all day and ate late. It was nice, food was good, I made it through.

Martin commented to me the other day, and others have as well, that I've sounded very down lately, very blue. Really, I'm okay. I've been very introspective lately, but I'm taking my crazy pills, and this is always a bad time of the year for me. I'm fine, though.

Sometimes I feel guilty that I never got my parents a gravestone. My father wanted an elaborate stone with praying hands at both sides. My father, who set foot in church about 8 times during my life, and those for weddings and funerals.

My mom never expressed any desire for any type of marker. I'm pretty sure she's buried next to my late Uncle Arnold, which probably would have made both my mom and Uncle Arnold fairly unhappy. I don't remember the two of them ever exchanging any sort of words.

I don't feel any need to have an elaborate gravesite for my parents, or a need to visit said gravesite. My Mom and Dad are, like Rod Stewart says, "In my heart, in my soul." I wear my Dad's wedding band, which he rarely wore, and my mom's anniversary ring. I feel their love for me all the time.

Meloncoly, but not depressed.

xo
Lisa

It's Tuesday In Indianapolis

And it's gloomy and grey outside. It doesn't seem like we've had a lot of those brisk and sunny fall days.

Although we were very graciously invited to one of Martin's co-worker's home for Thanksgiving dinner, we are debating if we will go. His co-worker has a big family and we both feel a little strange about it. A bit of the only child syndrome on both our parts I think. Martin is on call this week-end, so driving to Michigan is not an option; although Margaret and Peter would be happy to see us, they don't attach any particular significance to Thanksgiving. In years past, they always used to go Christmas shopping in Canada on Thanksgiving Day. No one is really a huge fan of turkey, and since we already had Thanksgiving in July (i.e. a turkey breast), if we stay home, I'm going to make some nice filet mignon. And the green bean casserole as well. It wouldn't be a holiday without green bean casserole in my house.

One of the things I miss about not having a lot of real close family; I remember many holidays with lots of aunts and uncles and cousins from various family branches around and having a lot of fun as a kid.


I've been watching Sons Of Anarchy on FX. Somehow, I missed Season 1, so I'm hoping to catch it on On Demand. I read somewhere that it is allegedly based on The Sons Of Silence, a real motorcycle club, who have a chapter here in Indy. We've driven by their clubhouse many times. SOA is good, but a bit of a stretch. The bikers on the show are awfully clean cut and the ones I've seen riding around here, well, "clean cut" might not be accurate. And Jax, who is very very cute, and the doctor? Uh, not so much. Convienent pairing, but not very believable. Maybe I think that just because I hate her character, she's smarmy. I think I've finally gotten past Katie Sagel as Peg Bundy or Leila, and she's good in her role as the Biker Mama. Henry Rollins plays a crazy ass white surpremist douchebag and he's horribly evil but does it well. The writing, I think, could use a boost; it's The Sopranos on bikes.


I think Mia is having a Barbie Christmas. She loves her Barbies, even if many of them are in various states of dishevelment and involuntary amputation of extremities. The Barbies that don't have their clothes attached, are generally at least part-time nudists. Like they think they're Lady Gaga* or something and it's perfectly normal to run around without pants on. There is a pet station for Barbie that I think she would love, and she'll be thrilled with lots of new clothes for them. I'm also looking forward to getting her the new Disney Princess doll. Finally, an African-American Disney Princess. Took them bloody well long enough. I think one of our holiday treats will be Mommy and Mia day; we'll get mani/pedis and go see The Princess & The Frog together. Mia's school had a Christmas Shop day, and Mia bought me a pink, purple and green neon bracelet that glows in the dark and says "Best Friends Forever." Broke my shirveled little heart.

* I acutally quite like Lady Gaga and her crazy.

And The Beat Goes On

Isn't syrup a funny word? Not only the way it sounds, but the way it's spelled? Martin and I were talking on IM, and I told him I had finally figured out why the Kroger Value Sweet Tea always tastes funny to me. It's made with high fructose corn syrup rather than sugar. Probably why it's ninety-nine cents when the Dean's Iced Tea is $1.89. It's no doubt considerably less to make. Anyway, I was stymied over spelling syrup. I had to go look on the bottle of pancake syrup to figure it out and it still looks funny.

I've been playing a lot of the free games at MSN Games. I've never been much for games. I went through my Sims stage, but my Sims always were mopey, and could never make a friend let alone have a relationship; they burned the house down cooking at 3 a.m. if left unmonitored, and it was a chore to get them to go to work. My Sims were always depressed slackers.

I play cards, usually Rummy, but I'm sick to death of it, so I started with the MSN games. My favorites are Book Worm, Bejeweled 2, Bubbletown and now, Shape Shifter. Really the adult versions of the Memory game. I finally figured out today that I've been playing them because I don't want my brain to atrophy. I'm starting to feel that way sometimes.

I'm doing fairly well keeping up on my Becky Home Ecky chores, but it's mind numbingly boring. Plus, I spend all day alone with two needy dogs. I haven't started having conversations with them yet, but I do talk to them once in a while. I trip over them a lot, because they always have to follow me everywhere. They even wait outside the bathroom door for me. Me going to the mailbox is enough to give them breakdowns.

Sometimes, I'm a slacker, too. Tuesday, I occupied the couch and Luna and I watched some serious daytime tv. We watched Cold Case Files, The Sopranos, and American Justice, some of my favorites. NOTE: Do not watch creepy Cold Case Files about home invasions gone wrong and then go upstairs and take a shower while you are home alone and then wonder if you remember locking the doors or not. Of course, I do have my protectors. They both bark like its doomsday if they catch a glimpse of someone outside. A visitor is a cause for untold joy.

I think Sarah Palin is supposed to be in Indiana sometime soon to promote her book. She really needs to just go away. I'm tired of hearing about her, hearing the goofy things she says, listening to her ultra annoying speech pattern. The last person I knew who said "You betcha!" was Richie Cunningham on Happy Days.

I think there should be an island some where that celebrities that we are tired of can go and live. Of course, I think there already is and it's some kind of reality show. Maybe they could stop filming this crap, and just send them off into obscurity and not tell them its not being filmed. I can easily think of several celebrities who need a one-way ticket and lots of sunscreen and bug spray. Brad and Angelina; Posh and Beck; the whole stinky crew from Twilight (do any of those kids shower, ever?), The Simpson Sisters; the Heidi and Spence Creature that actually wrote a book about fame whoring. I think those two would show up for the opening of a new drive thru window at Taco Bell if they got their pictures taken.

How To Make Your Dog Sick

is really quite easy. Just feed them a can of Armour Potted Meat spread. We ran out of dog food and didn't realize it. Bennie, the big dog, can go til evening without eating, but Luna, the four pound terror, can not. I gave her a can of the potted meat. After all, it looks kind of like canned dog food, right? For some reason, my FIL brought us some when they visited. Maybe he thinks it's something exotic that's not available in Indiana? He also brought us a couple cans of Vienna sausages, which I remember eating with Ritz crackers on camping and road trips as a kid.

It made Luna pretty sick. She threw up. She was listless and didn't want to sit on anyone's lap. She perked up by morning, but I was worried about her. She's normally so happy and a big lover. Anywhere I go, Luna is right next to me.

Perhaps I need to get out of the house more; two of my recent blog posts start about my dogs. That much closer to crazy dog lady, right? I remember being horrified by a woman in my first writing group who wanted to write poems about her cats, because they were so cute and did such cute things. I'm blogging about my dogs. That can't be good.

I'm just finishing a book called House Of Secrets, by Lowell Cauffiel. He also wrote the excellent true crime book, Masqaurade, among others, which I wrote about on my old blog. He had even commented on the entry, because I wondered if he was still alive. (He is. It's wasn't an email from The Beyond.) House of Secrets is one of the most horrifying cases I've ever read about. Pretty close to the Karla Homolka/Paul Bernardo case in level of sheer depravity and horror. This one involves family; incest, child abuse, murder. Mr. Cauffiel lays out a very complex case with many people involved, in a straighforward, easy to keep track of, way.

Fall always puts me in the mood for red wine. I long for the days when we have a house again, hopefully with a bit of a yard. It's good bonfire weather. I think a pot of chili might be in the plans for this week-end.

I can't believe Thanksgiving is right around the corner, then Christmas, then 2010. We have no plans for Thanksgiving as of yet. Thanksgiving this year falls on the anniversary of my Mom's death in 1999, and also the anniversary of my first marriage. Two rather unhappy events in my life. I'm glad the Brits aren't a big fan of the holiday. I have no intentions of participating in Black Friday, either.

Here is the verbatim text of a note Mia wrote while playing school:

"Class I am leaveing town becuse the class is being to lowd and there's a lot's of fiteing."

I'm thinking that a career as a teacher might not be in Mia's best interest.

A Hell Of A Week

this has been, and we have two days to go.

A dear dear friend of mine is dealing with a cancer situation and I can't bear to even think about it for more than a few seconds. This is the second of my friends to recently find themselves in cancer situations. I'm thinking the best until I hear otherwise, but it's consuming me, always rattling around in the back of my mind.

The news from Ft. Hood was awful, just unbelievably sad. The speculation surrounding the gunman is starting to really piss me off. Because he is a Muslim, some of the right wing crew are already labelling him a radical and a terrorist. Anti-US statements may have been made by him; I've made some as well, and I'm far from a terrorist. He was born in the United States, of Jordanian descent, and who knows if he's even ever been to the middle east, let alone subscribes to radical notions? He was not happy about the war and was apparently very freaked out about being deployed. Please note, I am in no way endorsing or excusing his actions. I'm just thinking certain media outlets (Hello Faux News!) are slinging some shit and it may very well not stick. They are making leaps in judgement that I'm sure many people of the Muslim faith find appalling. I tend to think the dude just went batshit; that is the beginning and the end of the whole thing. Only my opinion, of course.

Next up: more batshit crazy in Orlando, Florida. A workplace shooting. Guy lost his job two years ago, filed bankruptcy, and lost his mind somewhere along the line.

These times are hard. These times are scary. I'm so thankful Martin found a good job here. I've been sending out resumes for the past four months and haven't even gotten a phone call. I've applied for every job I've been remotely qualified for and I haven't gotten a call from anyone. I'm having a deja vu from Michigan. It's hard to keep plugging along when you don't even get a call from Target; you know they must need help for the holidays.

Hoping for a quiet week-end.

My Dogs Had Fleas

Isn't that the punch line to some lame old joke? You will notice the past tense in the title; we have quickly packed their little flea suitcases and escorted them out. I can't remember the last time one of my dogs had fleas; rolling in poop, getting sprayed by skunks and eating dead animals they regurgitate in the house on my brand new rug, yes, but fleas? No, thank you very much. We haven't lived in the country for a long time, and my dogs are spoiled and lazy and only grudgingly go for a walk. And what the hell is a flea doing still alive in late October, anyway? Is this a Hoosier thing, one more example of me forgetting just how far south we are?

I'm always looking for more housework to do, you know.

Martin has been home all week with the flu. Not the H1N1 although that's certainly going around here. Even though he's feeling better, the doctor requires that he is symptom free for 48 hours before he goes back to work. His workplace is fairly stringent on that sort of thing as well. I knew he was feeling better when I baked homemade pizza and he declared it the best pizza he'd ever had. My pizza is good, but it's not that good.

Last night, in between watching the news about Ft. Hood, we watched the movie I Know Who Killed Me. It was shockingly bad and not in a campy sort of way. The premise, the dialogue, the acting, the props and sets. Lindsay Lohan looked wasted through a lot of it.

Mia is obsessed with missing the school bus. She will be beside my bed, fully dressed, teeth brushed, coat and backpack on, at 6:45 in the morning. Her bus comes at 7:30. She'll be on the verge of a total meltdown because she's afraid she's going to miss the bus. It's ratcheted up if I haven't laid out her clothes the night before and she starts to panic about what she's going to wear. Even on week-ends, when we let her stay up later in the hopes of her sleeping in, she's still up at the buttcrack of dawn. Thankfully, she is pretty self-reliant and will get herself something to eat and watch Sponge Bob or play games on the computer. She'd also stay in her pajamas all week-end if we'd let her.

I have laundry to fold and more linens to wash. The glamour, it never ends.