Today seemed to be a better day. I had lunch with Mikha, Daniela's sister. It was so great. Both Mikha and Daniela (two gorgeous Brasilian women) are both so fun and interesting. I wish I could see them more often.

Last year at this time, Chuck and I were in Brasil with Daniela, staying with her family at their beach house (i.e., Paradise). It was definitely the best New Years of my life, all was good... we'd stay up until 3am playing Buraco, a card game. Chuck and I were so addicted to that game yet we haven't played it since. I guess it's not as much fun without Brasilians to play it with =) Daniela's family was so kind to us... it was so wonderful.

We did the Brasilian New Year's Eve tradition of wearing all white, going to the beach and, at midnight, wading in to the water, making a wish, and jumping 7 waves. I don't remember my wish, but I do remember becoming "champagne-enhanced Tina".

I am also very happy for Jenny and Aaron, they are now engaged. I knew Aaron was going to pop the question and I was so careful not to drop any hints to Jenny. Jenny's going to have to work out now, just to be able to hold her arm up with that gigantic ROCK on it!! Congratulations my friends!

F*&^$! I thought I should write about something happier, but I can't. Christmas Eve with the family went ok, but without Mom there, I just wanted to leave. I cried the whole drive home. Why can't this get easier? I honestly don't think it ever will. I think I will cry every day for the rest of my life. The strangest things trigger the saddest thoughts. You know it's bad when a Nine Inch Nails song can make you sob. Here's how that went...

F* you like an Animal came on the radio... the line "hey Pig, Piggy, Pig, Pig Pig" made me think of how my Brother gives everyone nicknames, how he used to call his ex-girlfriend Piggy and sing that song to her. Then I think about how he now calls his wife Skippy. It triggers the memory from that first week when Mom was in the hospital, when she was coherent... Eddie told her that Skippy said Hi, then he said it funny, "skippeeeeee", and Mom smiled. Then I begin to think more about while Mom was in the hospital, and those thoughts are the absolute worst, the most heart wrenching. I think about how she seemed, at that time, to be getting better, how she really shouldn't have died, how they let her bleed until it caused her heart to fail. I think about what I saw. No one should ever see what I saw. I don't want to think about how bloated she was and all the tubes and blood. I want to forget the hospital. I want to take a little pill and forget. I want to go back in time and see her go from nodding and blinking to talking and walking. But it doesn't happen that way. Reality hits and I can heardly bear it. All from a NIN song that should be inspiring lust instead of great sadness.

So as much as I want to write about the gigantic teddy bear Chuck got me for Christmas or the very cool red velvet pillow Jenny made for me, I need to write about the pain before it consumes me.

Jamba

On this weeks episode of The Osbournes, Sharon was drinking a Jamba Juice. Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh, I want JAMBA!!!!!!!

Jesus Christ, Superstar

My sister was asked if my Niece/Goddaughter could play Baby Jesus in her church's Christmas Pageant. That's so exciting!

I knew she was a Godsend, she's a little angel and has helped us all find happiness in a time of sorrow... so it's fitting that she would play a (THE) saviour.

Blue Christmas

My grieving situation has achieved the 80/20 rule. Eighty percent of the time, I'm fine. Twenty percent of the time, I'm an emotional, sobbing wreck. Usually that 20% is when I'm driving alone - consistently a dangerously sad time... or late at night when it's quiet and my mind wanders... or sometimes at unexpected moments, like when I'm at the Gap Christmas shopping. Distraction helps, but it's not always feasible. Cable tv helps (shallow, but true).

On the drive home tonight, I had the song "Blue Christmas" stuck in my head... and it made me cry because I will have a blue Christmas without Mom. So then I tried whistling "Winter Wonderland" to distract myself... and it made me cry because she loved to hear me whistle. So I called my sister and got distracted and stopped crying for 20 minutes. Then I hung up and cried for the last 2 minutes of my drive. Then I was ok again.

I should be SLEEPING!

I had yet another dream about Mom. In it, she was still in the hospital and I remember thinking, "why did I tell everyone she died?" The strange part is that even though it was about Mom, I didn't actually SEE her in the dream. But somehow I knew that she was doing very well.

I had another dream with my Mom in it. These dreams are precious, but strange. In them, she is unexpectedly alive, as I seem to be aware, in my dream, of the fact that she is supposed to have died.

Some strangeness with this dream though...

In the dream, I went to a family members house and Mom was lying on the floor talking on the phone. Again, I was surprised that she was alive. She got off the phone and started telling me that Eddie (my brother) had dreamt that night about being in hand to hand combat, gesturing as if she were holding a machine gun. So, in essence, she could "see" our dreams.

The wierd part - today I asked Eddie if he had that type of dream and he said he has violent dreams all the time, where he's usually killing somone (ok, that's scary too - the boy needs psychoanalysis). Anyhow, I found it interesting that it all tied in together, even though Eddie had never told Mom about having these type of dreams.

All in all, I don't care what they all mean, I just love the opportunity to see my Mom again, because it feels so real.

Rudolphina

I heard an interesting little tidbit on the radio yesterday. According to biologists, though both the male and female reindeer grow antlers, the males shed their antlers in late November/early December, while the females do not shed their antlers until the spring. Put two and two together and, yes... say it with me... all of Santa's reindeer are actually female!

You go girl!

As I realize how late it is, I created a pseudo-haiku relating to lack of sleep.

Delicate moon,
playing over the snow,
the night is over.

I need to vent. Along with all the other drama, I have a side issue happening that is only driving me slightly crazy. Before Mom died, Stepdad and I shared all of about 5 minutes of conversation a week. Now, he calls me every day, (down from many times a day) and tell me his every move in painful detail. On top of that, he doesn't remember from one day to the next what he's told me, so he repeats himself - VERBATIM - and I hear the same stories at least 4 times.

That said, I know he is going through the most difficult thing anyone could be asked to live through, so in the interest of saving his sanity, I let him ramble. It is, however, getting to the point where my sanity is in jeopardy. I'm having a hard time saying anything though, because I do NOT want to hurt his feelings, he's been hurt enough.

So just for my own amusement (misery loves company), I want to show you what I mean. Here is a message he left me last weekend. It is transcribed exactly, I exaggerate NOT:

Hi Honey, it's Dickie, I just called to see how you're doing, I didn't have a talk with you today. I was running around busy again, I went to see Uncle John this morning and give him his cigarettes and then I went to the cemetary to see your Mom and then I uh ** laughter and side comment to "fiance" ** um, and let's see, oh I bought some glasses and I got a earring and uh what else did I do? what else did I do? aaah, bought another pair of pants, bought the baby some REAL nice stuff and um, what else? I got a leather last night and um, anyway, I just wanted to see how you were doing and uh, gimme a call when you get a chance. I'm gonna go to church in the morning and then probably maybe I'll go down with Sherri, follow her back home, have a cup of coffee with Sher or something and oh, we're gonna have dinner Tuesday night at the house if you'd like to join us. I figured I'd make tuna casserole for Rosie and then I'll probably make something else, maybe I'll get some chicken or something, and I'll have some chicken, I know you like the chicken, if you want to join us, if you don't, you don't have to, that's no problem, and, anyway, hope Chuckie's feeling well [beep... "END OF MESSAGE" - as it ran out of space]

Oh, and my Aunt calls me about 5 times a day too and, in response to the news of Dick's engagement, says something like, "God was in my room in 1996 and, your Mommy is in heaven and Punky is in heaven and this is God's way of saving Dickie from Satan... "

That Linkin Park song keeps playing in my head...

Everything you say to me,
Takes me one step closer to the edge,
And I'm about to break,
I need a little room to breathe,
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge,
And I'm about to break

Side note, tidbits from Stepdad's message indicate that "fiance" is trying to transform him from blue-collar-carhart-jacket-blue-jeans-baseball-cap style to GQ man. More on that at a later date.

I long for the good old days when both Dad and Mom were alive, Dad was a drug dealer and fighting with Stepmom and Mom and Dick were my sanctuary of normalcy.

I haven't been blogging because I've been waiting for something good to say. Well, there just isn't any. It's all just completely shitty. But I won't say "it can't get worse" because the past months have proved that it sure the hell can.

Since I last blogged, my Stepdad has "fallen in love" with my Mom's former best friend, asked her to marry him and gave her a ring - drama ensued and is still causing stress every day. That same day I find out that kodak.com is going to be downsized from 150 people to about 40. So now I worry that I will lose my job too. And even if I happen to not get laid off, many of my friends could - and the work environment that I have always thought was so great because of all the wonderful people, will be shit.

Then, yesterday, Jenny learns that Aaron has been called back to active duty - potentially for a year. Not only is Jenny one of my best friends and I am deeply hurt and concerned for her, but Aaron is a great friend too - especially to Chuck - and we are concerned for him too (and will miss him dearly). After all, he has to be apart from Jenny and Oscar and the clan too. I only hope that it is a good place for him to be.