what am i doing?

well, it's been a bit. like, seven months? something like that.

i decided where to go to school: adelphi. i've already completely my first semester and got an A in both of my classes.

i took a great cruise with some family and friends. we went to bermuda and sailed out of manhattan. it was really fun and very nice and my first sober cruise. i went to two AA meetings on board and found i didn't miss drinking as much as i worried i would. i also discovered roulette and am good at it.

i quit my job as a drug and alcohol counselor and took a position as a care coordinator (case manager) working with people diagnosed with severe and persistent mental illness. it's fun and challenging and sometimes i can't believe they pay me what they pay me. it's like $13K a year more than my last job and i feel a lot less stressed by it. very nice.

my dad died on october 29th. it was really sudden. he was 63 and diabetic and had high blood pressure. he was alone in his office, where he slept every night on a couch because he was always working. he died alone in his office, locked in a building in an industrial area. a neighbor climbed a ladder and found an open window to let the emergency workers in. so i planned another funeral for another parent.

i hadn't spoken to my dad in almost a month. i was mad at him because i felt like he only called me when he needed something. it seemed like he never called just to say hi or i love you or something. i called him like that, for no reason, and it frustrated me that he never did. the last interaction i had with him was the morning we left on the cruise, october 4th, 25 days before he died. he said, 'have a safe trip. love to all'.

sometimes i feel like i don't know what i'm doing in life. within five years i lost both of my parents. i'm only 35. but i'm still here. i'm still here and i don't know what i'm doing.

ahh, wednesday.

i'm finally not really that sick any longer.  it's been two weeks since i started feeling ill and i'm still a little snotty and coughing a bit.  i can't fucking wait until it's all cleared up.  it better be soon.  ugh.

my birthday was last week.  and i was sick.  so, you know.  awesome husband @_antgas and i went to benihana (if you have a local location, join their chef's club and you'll get a $30 certificate for your birthday!) and ate A LOT.  then on my birthday we went over our friends' house and had nathan's for dinner.  it was very nice and nostalgic: when we were younger, my mom would pick up nathan's hot dogs and french fries for a special dinner on our birthdays.  she'd also get this lemony cake for dessert.  i don't know how many years we did it, but i remember it being a thing.  the next night we had greek food and ice cream with my bestie for forever.

my dad's birthday is the week before mine, so we've often done joint birthday things.  on sunday, we went to our favorite steak house with dad, my brother, his fiancee sisterfromanothermister, and my twin half sisters.  it was lots of food and lots of fun.  i had a meat-ful weekend.

so much meat.  so much.

i'm not eating meat until saturday again.  @_antgas' mom is having st. patrick's day.  we didn't do anything for st. paddy's day because i won't cook meat and we don't drink... so, kind of pointless.  but for saturday i'm planning on making scratch irish soda bread - one without raisins because i hate raisins - and i might make my family's cole slaw.

i've been off my meds forever, it feels like.  my joints are screaming.  and the fatigue is coming back. it's like just existing in this much pain causes fatigue.  i'm kind of over it.

i'm getting some tattoo work done on thursday, not too much but a bit.  my rheumy said i should stop taking my meds for a week before and a week after if i want to get tattooed.  i've been off for over two weeks, almost three.  but then i have to wait for another week before i can start humira.  which is the next biologic drug we're trying.  enbrel didn't do shit.  i only hope humira does something.

piglet seems to be.... well, piglet.  her tooth is definitely getting worse, but she's still drinking and eating and peeing and pooping.  of course, every cat vomited everywhere last night.  damn it.  we'll bring piglet back in about two weeks to have another round of blood work and see if anything's changed.  i guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it....

a funny old thing

one day, i'll get back to writing funny posts. 

it's not that funny stuff doesn't happen in my life any longer.  it's not that my sense of humor is drastically different.  it's just that i think about things differently, i guess. 

i had an excellent day today.  i woke up way too early and started working, only for a couple of hours.  then i showered and got ready to spend the day with reverend bobdad because my half sisters were competing (cheerleaders).  rev bobdad picked me up and we went to my first ex-stepmother's house (rev bobdad's second ex-wife.  yup.  we're counting).  we then went to the high school where the competition was being held and who is sitting in the bleachers but my ex-stepmother's sort-of husband who also happens to be the biological father of my half sisters.

yea, i know.  it's near impossible to follow.

let's try this again.

i have sisters.  twin sisters that are 15.  they were born when my dad was married to my first ex-stepmother, so they were my half sisters.  when they were 4 my first stepmother became my first EX-stepmother when she divorced my dad and quickly married her masseuse.  then when my half sisters were 8 we found out they WERE NOT my dad's children, but they were biologically the masseuse's children.  for all intents and purposes, though, they are my sisters.  we have the same dad ('dad' and 'sperm donor' are two different things), we have the same last name (i hyphenated), and they are - and will always be - my sisters.  there has been a lot of bad blood between their biological father and our rev bobdad (among other people).  the biological father-slash-masseuse is still legally married to my first ex-stepmother, but they no longer live in the same household.  my rev bobdad sees my sisters twice a week for dinner, and the biological father sees them a couple of times a month. 

if you're following, good for you.  i should write a book.

so we walk into the gym and there sits biological father-slash-asshole.  but he did save seats for ALL of us (my rev bobdad included) so that was something.  awkward, but something.

he did look me in the eye for a nanosecond when he said hello to me.  he did not look my rev bobdad in the eye.

then my rev bobdad went to get a drink, and brought back a bottle of water for each of us - including biological father-slash-asshole.  which was nice.  but they didn't, like, interact.

so we all watched my sisters perform.  and high school cheerleading competitions are a little bit like 'bring it on'.  but with no espn reporters.  and less people.  and blaque isn't there.

but, you know.  other than that, pretty much the same.

my sister's school didn't place, sadly.  but my rev bobdad, sisters, and i were all going to our favorite steakhouse afterward, so it would be okay.  right?

wrong. as soon as biological father-slash-asshole got wind of my rev bobdad doing something with the girls, he got all biological-parenty and was like, i'm taking the girls out.

so we let him have his fun and went back to first ex-stepmother's house to watch television and have a snack.  and my rev bobdad fixed her motion sensor light.  and bought stuff to recaulk one of the bathroom tubs.  and bought a new clothes hanging rod thingy for one of my sister's closets.

anyway.

then they came home and we hung out for a bit and then we went to our steakhouse.  and had some steak and some fun conversation.  i remember when they were younger and were almost afraid of me.  now we talk like adults.  i love them.

we also talked a bit about the whole situation.  about how they used to think it was normal to have two dads.  they call rev bobdad 'dad' or 'daddy' and biological father-slash-asshole 'papa'.  one of my sisters told me that when first ex-stepmother (their mother, follow along please) told her that papa was their biological father, and daddy was their dad, she didn't get it.  but that was years ago.  we get it now.

i really wanted to ask what they got.  my rev bobdad was no saint, let me tell you.  he drank himself out of his first marriage (to my mom) and couldn't keep his pants on.  but faith can do strange things to a man and after he was saved (he's a born again christian.  charismatic christian.  whatever you want to call it) rev bobdad was a bit of a new man.  he has 27 years sober and is a great dad to those girls.  he was a drunken fool to me, and mostly just a fool to my brother.  but a man lives and learns (so does a woman for that matter).  i really wanted to ask my sisters if they got that, while my rev bobdad was married to first ex-stepmother, she fucked her masseuse and got pregnant with them.

like, really wanted to know if they understood that.

which is wrong.  i mean, number 1: they're 15.  number 2: you can't know your own mother's a liar.  children need to be able to love and trust their parents.  if you are told your parent is wrong or bad, it can destroy you.

blood is not always thicker than water.  my aunt proved that to me in a negative way, and my sisters prove it to me time and time again in a positive way.  i am in no way related to them - we share no blood.  they are nothing to me.

but they are my sisters.  we talked a bit about that - how blood relatives aren't always the best.  i told them how their mother - who is nothing to me, relation-wise - was more supportive to me during my mother's passing than my aunt - who is a blood relation, my mother's sister - was.  they mentioned about wanting to take their biological father-slash-asshole's name because it matches their nationalities, and i told them my last name is italian even though i'm irish, english, german, and scottish because i took my husband's last name.  names don't mean anything either.  it's not the people who share your name or your blood who are your family - it's the people who love and support you.

i think they understand it.  i think they know what their mother did, and how my rev bobdad, awesome husband, my brother, and i are NOTHING to them - nothing.  we only share a name because my father's last name is still on the birth certificates.  i think they understand more than anyone gives them credit for.  and i think they are the strongest girls i know for it. 

coming home

i know i've been a horrible blogger for the past month.  sometimes it's felt like a whirwind of activity, and sometimes it's felt like molasses in january. 

i'd love to say 'i'm back'.  i'd love to be able to promise you more posts about awesome husband, eating tarzipan, my ridiculous family, and my fucked up life.

i don't know that i can promise you any of that.  i get through my days with the help of tarzipan (and probably more alcohol than i should admit to drinking), awesome husband, my brother, and my great family and friends.  it takes a tragedy to bring us closer together sometimes, and that has been exceptionally true in my family.  it's not that i was like estranged from members of my family, but there were some family members that i might have only seen or talked to a couple of times a year.  with my mother's illness and passing, i feel like i have a whole new immediate family now.  specifically with a few of my cousins - even though i may not talk to them much more than i did previously, i feel like we are all closer.  and i wouldn't feel strange calling one of them in the middle of the night if i needed them.

it's a different feeling than i'm used to.  but i like it.

what i can promise you is more bullshit about life, the universe, and everything.  i plan on going back to talk therapy in the new year - so that will be worth at least a blog or two a week.  probably about how much i hate my therapist.  and awesome husband and i will be moving back to new york.  so packing and stressing and actually moving will be amusing - to you guys, at least.  and of course, i am continuing on with my schooling.  even though new york state will not recognize an education degree received online, so i had to switch my plan of attack.  i'll now be getting an associates with a concentration in psychology.

other than that, you'll probably have a lot of blogs about my mom.  about what happened, how fast it was, what it felt like, what i was thinking.  about planning your mom's funeral when you're 30 years old.  how it feels to have another empty room in the house.

about how i can't walk into her room too often, because it still smells like her.  how taylor - the oldest cat - has taken to sleeping on her pillow since mom left.  how i keep putting off opening her drawers or closets or looking under her bed, because i don't know if i can see her things yet.

so yeah, it won't be a barrel of laughs.  but i know it will be good - for me, at least.  and maybe it will help some of you too.

mom and me at my wedding, october 2004

save the drama for your.... dad.

i swear, i really wanted to have a funny, witty, blog today. or at least, funnier/wittier than the last few.

but today i had some more side effects from my new meds. i guess, just more jittery and unable to focus. i sat at my sewing table for an hour and forty minutes, staring at five different fabrics and trying to figure out how to use them. then, when i finally gave up and put it all away for the day, i was overcome with sleepiness.

so i spent the rest of the day in bed watching harry potter 5 and 6. then awesome husband made me take a shower, and put stouffer's salisbury steaks in the oven for dinner. well, dinner for him and mom. i had a plate of french fries covered in pepper. yum.

so i ingested delicious french fries, messed around online for a bit, and watched some ghost hunters. i thought about posting a blog about being married without children. you know, something kind of cheeky and hopefully funny.

then i saw a status update from my aunt about my dad almost missing a flight from new york to florida. i live in florida. like two hours away from where he's going. and he *forgot* to mention when he was coming to florida. so even though i'm his first born, his only daughter (well... mostly. but that's another post), and willing to drive down the coast to see him for an afternoon, he neglected to tell me he was coming to florida now and set up a day to meet.

even though i only see him three or four times a year, tops. so i'm kind of bummed out now. i shouldn't be. this is par for the course for my dad. it's also the fourth or fifth time he's done this. he comes to florida once or twice a year to visit a friend about two hours from where i live, and never sets up a date or time to meet up. it kind of makes me feel rejected, even though it should not. my parents split when i was 6, which is twenty four years ago.

twenty. four. years.

so i've had quite some time to get used to my dad's flakiness. he was late to my girl scout moving up ceremony. he was late to my brother's first play. he was late to every play or concert i was involved in. he didn't show up to the art show i was in. he was late to my graduation. he was late to my brother's graduation. he misses planes, or gets there 3 minutes before take off. he is habitually late for reservations - we have a restaurant we frequent in new york where they are shocked if he is less than 30 minutes late. he showed up on time once, and everyone was speechless.

i'm convinced the only reason he wasn't late to my wedding was because we made my mom go with him.

i should be used to it. and i'm thirty - an adult. even if i'm batshit crazy, i'm still a grown up. i'm not a child. but when it comes to our parents, i think we always will be children.