Here's a cheery subject, I've been procrastinating about picking out my Father's tombstone and deciding what to write on it for a year now. It seems disrespectful and incomplete, as if I've left him in an unmarked grave, well I have actually, but I know he wouldn't care. I'm trying to find a poem that he loved that his mother wrote about life and death. If I could find it, I think I might put that on his grave. Plus I don't like the choice of grave markers this place offers. I'm kind of paralyzed by my desire to make it perfect
I've been putting off telling you that Ala died. You can see her picture on my info page and at my cat picture pages that are linked from the main page of my journal. She died weeks ago but it hurt so much and I couldn't bear to write about it because I wanted to pretend it didn't happen, and I couldn't face your kindness, it would have made it all feel too real at the time. I'm missing Tick pretty badly as well, and Gelato and everyone else. I'm afraid that Myanmar won't be here much longer either. We're giving her appetite stimulants and subcutaneous water injections but she doesn't look too great. Coco is looking frail as well. Blah.
Tomorrow I'm going to pay bills and then take Mom to the Grove, the place that was built where the Farmer's Market parking lot formerly stood. I'm not looking forward to it. Maybe if I were going early in the morning to have breakfast and hang out with Paul Mazursky at the plain old wonderful Farmer's Market I could get excited about it, but dealing with Mom and money, and then pushing her in a wheelchair around a shopping mall, where I won't be able to buy anything because she'd freak, is not my idea of pleasant. On the other hand I do love my Mother and want to make her happy so I should try to reframe the experience as a loving little mother-daughter lunch jaunt.
I so wish we were a more normal mother daughter team, or even wacky like Sharon and Kelly Osbourne, they looked like they were having so much fun shopping on this last episode of The Osbournes. All those bags they brought home, I wish we could have seen what was in them. God I loved some of the lines from last night's show. I'll try to remember them but they won't be exact quotes;
When Sharon and Kelly were fighting with the neighbors in the backyard, I loved the whole bit about, "Come on you poncy little English boys, why don't you come over for a cup of tea and biscuits?" Oh God, and how funny was it that they were all sitting around playing guitar and singing He's Got the Whole World in His Hands and The Gal From Ipanema, and then the Osbournes were fighting back with Black Sabbath and some hardcore Swedish band and saying how much they had preferred living next to Pat Boone. "Oh he was such a nice man." Oh and the part where Kelly tells her Mom that the neighbor called her a crazy old whore and she says, "Well, he got that right."
The bit about the valet farting in Kelly's car. "Oh Mom I forgot to tell you, the valet farted in my car!" "Ooh I hate that!" Which reminds me how hysterical the sketch on jackass was where Johnny has gas and goes to a yoga class. God, I laughed so hard at that.
When Sharon is imagining what she will do when the neighbors come over to talk about their noise problem and tells Kelly, "when he comes over tomorrow I'm going to hold him down and piss on his fucking head." "Oh Mom, that's a bit much."
And my favorite, when Ozzie sees the kind of silly overblown theatrical stuff that Sharon has planned for his concert and he says, "Bubbles? Oh come on Sharon! I'm Ozzie Osbourne, the Prince of Fucking Darkness! Evil! Evil! Evil! Not fucking bubbles!"
My old high school pal Monica called me yesterday to arrange a get together for my birthday. She's so wonderful that way. I'm so antisocial and I lose touch with everyone, well maybe I'm not that bad, but she's amazing at it. I really love and admire her, and she's always been the most supportive friend. The one person who continued to believe in my talent when even I had given up hope.
My back is finally peeling. I knew it would. I actually like it in a kind of perverse way, it's fun to peel the skin off.
I'm so glad I made the decision to take Beau out of school. It was so hard to do and I had no support. Everyone was opposed, my psychiatrist, Scott, Esther, Beau's friends and Steven's mother Beth. Everyone was being well meaning and giving advice out of love but sometimes you just have to listen to your own inner voice and take a risk. We'll see how it goes, but so far we've been having a blast. It's so wonderful to just allow Beau to explore his own interests. Yesterday we researched the shortest wars in history because he had asked if I knew what had been the shortest war, and we learned a lot from that simple question. Then later in the day he was interested in salt and how to separate it out of things once it's been mixed in. He wanted to know how to get salt out of mashed potatoes once you've stirred it in. It sounded silly at the time but pretty much anything a child asks can be turned into a wonderful lesson. The hard part for me will be to keep us both on at least a minimal schedule of some kind. Beau likes to stay up playing Sims or XBox until two and that's not the best plan. I told him we could take this week off and then we'll get something going next week. On the other hand I've read about successful home schooling that was extremely unstructured and it's only for a couple of months so I'm not that worried.
Hmmm why is that dog barking so much?
We delivered the neighborhood newsletter to my neighbors yesterday and that's always nice. I knocked on the Sister's door and Sister Eileen came out and gave us a hug. I love her so much, it's hard to face that we didn't really appreciate the goodness of these women when we were in high school. I mean I revered them in a way, but we also acted out a lot. Sister Colette has moved in with them and just had a pacemaker installed. I didn't realize this had happened. She was resting when we stopped by. I'd love to write a book about her life.
Today is my ex-husband's birthday. It's so strange how things work out. I hate being an ex-wife. I don't hate being free of him, I just hate the way it's worked out. He still loves me, well at least he says he does, but we really have grown in different directions, and I can't imagine being with him. All that suffering, what was it all for, other than Beau of course. I would like to get my hands on one of the many women he cheated on me with, Lulie, if I could I would pull a serious white trash Jerry Springer act on her. Nah I guess I wouldn't, it wouldn't exactly be a spiritually elevating thing to do but oh would it be satisfying to pull her hair and kick her in the ribs just once or twice. Now you see why I admire the Nuns so much.
I just talked to Beau and played with the kitties. I'm making a list from the questions he asks me. So far we're going to study properties of salt, eye color and why it changes, and crystals and their ability to give off or conduct electricity. I have to call Mrs. Copeland to set up tutoring and take Beau to the gym so he can go there instead of being bullied by a mean coach who will force him to run around the track a billion times in the sun without any kind of protection, not even a cap.
I have to get going, so much to do today.