100 Random Thoughts..

...as fast as typing allows.

1. I probably should have gone grocery shopping today.
2. Because what am I going to eat tomorrow?
3. And I probably should build up my food storage if I’m going to be laid off.
4. Probably should have done that a long time ago.
5. I hope I don't get laid off. I’m kind of irritated at people that borrowed beyond their means who contributed to the likelihood of me being laid off.
6. Though if I was laid off I could spend more time reading.
7. No I wouldn’t, I’d have to be sending out resumes and interviewing, which is probably my least favourite thing in the world to do.
8. Other than sleeping in airports.
9. Or getting up early in the cold.
10. I wonder if it would be easier or harder to get up if I wasn’t sleeping alone.
11. I hope my carpets are drying out ok.
12. I don’t want to wake up to mouldy carpets.
13. I still love Cliff the plumber, even if he contributed to the minor flood in my closet.
14. Mind a blank.
15. Chocolate.
16. Nah, not really hungry.
17. What is this song on my ipod?
18. I swear I don’t even recognise half the music on my ipod.
19. Does it make me pathetic that I’m spending Saturday night doing laundry and writing down my stream of consciousness thoughts?
20. I wish my stream of consciousness thoughts were a lot deeper.
21. I could cheat.
22. Nah.
23. I CHOSE to stay home tonight, anyway.
24. I was actually looking forward to it, and cleaning, and getting things together.
25. Not that I’ve accomplished all that I meant to.
26. But that’s a typical Saturday.
27. And the mini-flood didn’t help.
28. The temple open house was nice today.
29. The bride’s room chandeliers were tops.
30. And some nice paintings, though I saw the same prints repeated multiple times, 31. which makes me think the church needs a few more good artists.
31. Maybe I should have gone to art school after all.
32. Are you kidding me? Artists would be suffering even more from this economy.
33. My brother always said I should have been an engineer.
34. I still have hopes that Obama will help.
35. I have a crush on Obama, let’s face it.
36. Whoever it was who said it last night was right, Obama does sound like a first name.
37. President Obama. President Barack. President Obama.
38. Like Drs who say things like “I’m Dr. Dave,” to be all friendly.
39. Whereas I don’t really want a personal relationship with my doctor.
40. Really? Only 40?
41. I still can’t believe the customer service chick at t-mobile asked me what the difference between London and England was this morning.
42. Sometimes it would be nice to have a customer service call without having to give my life story.
43. But I guess it’s nice that they’re friendly.
44. I wonder if there’s a way to stop my ipod playing podcasts when it’s on shuffle.
45. And christmas music.
46. Ray Charles, that’s more like it.
47. I need more happy songs.
48. A-M was right, it’s difficult to write happy songs that aren’t about relationships. And aren't "What a Wonderful World."
49. I like Jess’s idea of having an imaginary enemy.
50. A nemesis. There’s an underused word. Also “vexed.”
51. My nemesis would have a black fedora, and...wait, I’m visualising Dick Cheney.
52. Can’t decide if my superpower would be flying or having extreme beauty. You could get a lot done with either.
53. Flying, for sure. Less emotionally complicated.
54. Agh, another hideous song.
55. When is apple going to develop themed shuffles depending on your mood. Not playlists that you have to pick yourself.
56. Because that’s way too much effort, and the joy of shuffle is the surprise.
57. I need to polish my shoes.
58. I need another Saturday.
59. Wonder when the next public holiday is? President’s Day? Did we already do that?
60. I like looking at the city at night.
61. It’s pretty dark tonight. But at least it’s clouds not smog.
62. I guess we Brits really do talk about the weather a lot.
63. Speaking, of, wouldn’t mind a cup of tea.
64. Must get an early night tonight.
65. Mustn’t forget to get up and meet Liz at the Spoken Word.
66. When apple has finished making the perfect computer, maybe they can move on to gene therapy and tweak my brain so that I start enjoying getting up early.
67. Lots of meetings tomorrow.
68. Crap, am I conducting?
69. No, that’s next week.
70. Can’t stand conducting. Always forget to announce at least one thing.
71. Even though it’s written on a piece of paper that’s right in front of me.
72. Must write thank you notes.
73. Right after this extremely important blog entry.
74. About three quarters of the way there.
75. And then I can read my book.
76. Which I’m quite enjoying.
77. (The Last Chinese Chef).
78. Work book group book.
79. Must get the other book group book, too, whatever it is. I think Heidi emailed it.
80. The title, not the book.
81. Haven’t really felt like reading, which is funny given that it’s been freezing outside and is perfect reading by the fire weather.
82. Except have no fire.
83. Maybe I could get one of those gas things.
84. Except have no gas.
85. And possibly no job, shortly.
86. Should probably buy food instead.
87. Great, am back to beginning.
88. Which would be a lot more poetic if this was item 100.
89. Could always go back and cheat.
90. Nope.
91. Blank mind.
92. Sad thought.
93. I totally agree with what Tiffany wrote about preferring to be in thirties than twenties.
94. Despite life stresses and occasional misery.
95. When you stay in on a Saturday night, you realise that no-one is emailing you. I thought my blackberry was broken for a while.
96. I do love my blackberry.
97. Must think less materialistic thoughts. Someone may still be reading.
98. Flowers.
99. Stars.
100. What a wonderful world.

Yurting

I could write about my yurting trip. I could write about the clear air and the peace and sunshine and the sparkly snow, and the pure pleasure of tiring ourselves out skiing and snowshoeing, and the stars at night that were so bright and thickly sprinkled and looked within kissing distance. Perhaps I could mention that afterwards I soaked the soreness from my muscles and mind in a steaming hot tub with friends out in the winter air. But why waste a few thousand words, when I can steal some of Julie’s fabulous photos?

New Year's Resolution

Write shorter blog posts.

"That is a right bastard."

I like to keep this blog pretty frivolous and shallow. Frivolity can be hard to come by at times (the shallow part comes naturally), but not impossible. As several of you know, my dad died Christmas Eve, but being a man with a sense of humour, I think he would have been amused by a couple of attendant occurences.

My brothers and I of course had to pass on the news to several people, including one of dad’s lesser-known cousins. All I’d heard about cousin Christopher from my dad and uncles was that he swears a lot. My brother called him, and after various “yes’s, no’s, and thank you’s,” he put down the phone with a thoughtful expression and gave me the recap.

He’d told him the news, and Christopher said, “Well, that is a right BASTARD for you, isn’t it?” He went on to eff and blind his way through the conversation, at one point saying “Excuse my language, it’s f---ing terrible,” and telling us what bastards doctors are. He called back a little later to tell us all to get blood tests and that he wouldn’t be coming to the funeral because he hated funerals and didn’t like seeing people be sad.

He was really very nice and well-meaning, and I am sorry to say that my brother and I for the rest of the week found great enjoyment in saying “well, that is a right bastard,” in a broad Somerset accent when any little thing went wrong.

Over the last couple of weeks I had to call lots of banks and other businesses, and everyone was incredibly nice (except for one total witch at Continental Airlines), with one or two little faux pas.

We came home the day of the funeral to a couple of messages on the machine. The first one:
“Mr D___, this is [Insurance company] calling about your car insurance--we haven’t heard from you, and as you know, your insurance renews at the beginning of the year. Please call us as soon as possible about this.”

Now, I had called them the week before to explain the situation and make arrangements, so that was a little irritating.
This was the second message, left shortly after the first, clearly after someone else in the office had updated her.

“This is [insurance company]--I’m calling to apologise for my last message. Er, very sorry about that. If you could call at your convenience, to confirm some details, we’d appreciate it. Again, I do apologise.”
You could tell the poor girl was totally squirming.

Really, everybody was very kind, and no-one said stupid things about “knowing exactly how you feel,” or it being “all for the best.” I think probably the biggest misconception is that the grieving process is a nice smooth downward exponential curve, and perhaps it is like that overall, but for me right now, it’s more like something you’d see on a heart rate monitor.

No one feels like they know just what to say to someone who’s lost someone they love. Our instinct is to try to say something that will somehow make it all better, and that’s not possible. I think, on the whole, it’s better to just say something than nothing. And saying “I’m sorry” is as good as anything.

Of course, the niceness can be hard to take. I kept getting to a point where I felt like I was getting a grip, and then someone would tell me how hard it must be, or how awful it was that it was Christmas. That would set the tears off again. My brothers and I talked about it --that we’d be ok until you see someone’s reaction, or someone says something that brings the feelings back. I told my brother that I’d be fine if people would stop being nice to me, like the official bereavement person at the hospital. “Yeah, you want them to treat it like just business -- like getting your car registered.” “Yes--except then we’d be complaining about what a cold-hearted cow she was.” A little later, my uncle called, and as I hung up the phone, I was in tears once more. “Is someone being nice to you again?” asked my brother. I nodded. “Bastard,” he said.