Background Noise: The More You Ruv Someone, Avenue Q (Tony nominated, best lyrics)
Last website visited: the morning rounds...
Mood: ambivolent
Right now i want... can't put my finger on it quite yet...

i haven't written a lot lately. partly because i've been busy the last few weeks -- work, steve's getting here, my mom's visit, new softball team, etc -- but i haven't been too busy to write. i've been avoiding it, actually. every time i opened up a new post, knowing full well what i wanted to write about, i'd pause for a moment, and worry who i'd be upsetting by writing it. so i wouldn't write. i'd call barb, or tell someone what was bugging me, or what i had just read about, but i wouldn't write it down.

i'm sad and sorry i made that choice so many times. i like documenting what is going on, not just with me activity wise, but... i like leaving clues for myself to later consider. because, honestly, i don't always know moment to moment what is going on with me; what is upsetting me, or what i'm passionate about or why. i like going back and reading what i've written and being able to see myself in that moment more clearly than i could at the time. if that makes any sense.

we had a 3 day weekend this week because of memorial day. when i think of memorial day, i think of baseball tournaments, bbq's, and the boat. i think of my dad grilling on the deck for the extended family, sunburned from my brother's games the past few days. i think of being with my friends, having fun. sometimes heading up to the lake. relaxing. playing.

all i wanted this weekend was to get away. leave, take a "me-time" vacation. get a hotel room on the coast, take a dozen books, leave my computer and my television, and spend 2 days walking along the beach, reading, sleeping, and occasionally picking up my phone. i even found a few places to go. and i was so ready to spend the money to do exactly that -- find a relaxing break for just me. let the world take care of itself for a little while. decompress.

the short story is i didn't go. i didn't do what i wanted (or needed). i couldn't spend the money. and forgive me for sounding morbid, but i couldn't justify spending what would have been $400 on a relaxing weekend because i'm afraid i'll need that money to buy a plane ticket home for my grandpa's funeral. yep, you read that right.

i've been having dreams since my mom left, of my grandpa in his hospic room, my grandma by his side. he looks at her and smiles. he closes his eyes. and all of me hurts. then my grandma tucks him in, lies down next to him, kisses his forehead, and shuts her eyes. just in case you didn't get that, i've been dreaming of my dad's parents dying. together. peacefully in their sleep, but dying. while i'm here, so very far away. in my dream, i'm at work, and my phone rings. i look at it and see my mom's cell phone, and i just know what has happened. i tell her i'm buying a ticket home, not to worry, i'll have someone pick me up from the airport. we hang up, and i call tobey. tell him when my plane is coming in, that he owes me and has to come get me. then i stand still in my office. pale and shaking, not really being able to comprehend what's going on. and all of me goes numb, in my dream, and in person. even now, typing about this, my eyes are misting over. it's paralyzing thinking about loosing them.

and i don't want to; think about this, i mean. i just can't seem to help it, the dream keeps coming. maybe it's to help me get used to the idea. to know that they'll be fine, that they are happy and safe, to give me the strength i'll need to handle everything when i get home. because i do not doubt that i will be the case: i'll be the one comforting people, setting up the funeral, running the reception, making sure there's enough food and kleenex and whatever else. my mom asked me to find a piece to sing for his funeral. are you fucking kidding me? i couldn't believe it. i still can't believe it. i've tried to find a piece, to practice, but... i can't. i can't find the will to practice a song for my grandpa's funeral. he's not dead yet. it's just all too morbid.

i remember when he first got really sick, a few years ago when i was still with the ex, i was so upset when i found out he had end-stage parkinsons. i cried and cried and worried and i wanted to talk to g about it. i needed someone to comfort me, tell me it would be ok, and instead, he was horrible. i can still hear him say "he's not dead, why are you upset" in that condiscending, why-are-you-bothering-me-with-these-unimportant-emotions way. i still hear it, "he's not dead yet, why are you upset." it's like a smack upside the head. he was right though, even though he should have had more tact, been more caring when he got his point across, he was right, my grandpa isn't dead yet. he's alive and home and i should enjoy his company while i can. i have to admit, i was tempted to go home this weekend. i'm tempted to go home next weekend, and the weekend after that. i can't afford it though, it's too expensive to fly home, and my parents would probably kill me for doing it. i was home over easter, and they think that was plenty. they don't want me to see him the way he is now, they say he's almost never awake, he has trouble recognizing people, he can't move without help... and i'm part of me agrees with them. i don't want to see him so sick. i don't want him to be sick. i hate seeing my grandma so tired and ill with worry.

ugh, i can't do this. i can't talk about this anymore. i'm sorry if you weren't expecting such a morbid post, but i'm not sorry for writing it. i needed to.

:) i have a lot on my plate right now.

but hey! it's harry potter week! :) harry potter 3 comes out on friday and i'm planning on seeing the midnight showing! i'm so excited. well :) at least in theory.