I’m sitting in an airport now. In Phoenix. Because nothing makes more sense when flying from Salt Lake City, Utah to Seattle, Washington than to take a quick pit stop in Arizona, which is precisely the opposite direction of my destination.
Thank you Expedia.
Why hello, Grand Canyon. Certainly didn’t expect to see you on this trip… (photo found here)
My trip was good. Family was visited, Café Rio was eaten, and I pretty much felt like I was a teenager again because I was completely at the mercy of my parents for getting around. It was actually kind of nice. For me. Not so much for the parentals, as they shuttled around a 31-year-old manchild who forgot his ADD medication and therefore left crap everywhere. On second thought, maybe it was nice for them? A nice trot down memory lane to the days when I left my lunchbox at school approximately daily and I never, not one time, got a permission slip home to be signed successfully and they heard encouraging words from teachers like “your child is the laziest student I’ve ever met” and “Josh forgot his math homework for the 20th time” and “YOU PEOPLE MUST BE STUPID. Why can’t your child remember his backpack?” Ah, the sweet, sweet memories of undiagnosed mental disorders. *wistful sigh*
As I told you before, I was in Utah to see my Grandma The Weed because she’s not doing too hot. Well, as it turns out, she’s really really not doing too hot.
To put it mildly, she’s having plumbing problems. To put it bluntly, she’s pooping out of her vagina.
Yes. Apparently that happens.
Shhh. Don’t tell her I told the internet. She might be embarrassed. Except, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know what the internet is yet. She barely has a grasp on “computer.” To her, a computer is a giant, awkward gift she received nearly two decades ago from a family down the street that, if she were brave enough to turn it on, could be used to type letters that would print on her fancy dot-matrix printer, but she’s too worried she’ll break something to even turn it on, so there it sits, in mint condition, a relic from a different age. The age of the early 90’s. When computing was all about word processing. And solitaire. And MS Paint before MS Paint became cool.
Anyone want a t300 (or something with 300 in it…) vintage computer? Includes reams and reams of dot-matrix paper that you have to rip the sides off of. (That was a particularly gratifying dangling participle. (That’s what she said.))
No, but it was really good to be with Grandma. All of my siblings were there, and we had the chance to do some things that we haven’t done in years. We had her mother’s famous Swedish Meatballs, a recipe brought straight from the motherland. We shot the breeze. She had enough energy to say things like “Is that a tie on that chair? Remove it.” and “I certainly do love Mountain Dew,” and “Shave, Joshua. Your face looks ridiculous.”
I’m not joking at all when I say that it was good to have her making feisty, curmudgeonly, sometimes racially insensitive comments. She’s a great lady. It’s that same feistiness that allowed her to raise my dad to be a great man. And it was the same feistiness that gave her the strength to, when she realized she had married a man who was physically abusive early in her marriage, leave him behind even though it was the ’50’s, a time when doing so was unheard of, and he was scary and she had no marketable skills to speak of. She did a marvelous job, and worked hard, and raised her boy, and never complained, and then he raised a great family, and now she’s finally nearing the timberline, and it is time to help her make the Great Transition in as much comfort as possible. And it was nice to have a week to be with her while she is still herself.
And for the record, I did shave. And she really appreciated it. And then we went and ate Chinese food which was “just delicious, except for the worst egg-roll [she’d] ever eaten.”
Love ya Grandma Weed.
Items of bizness:
1. I recently wrote a guest post for a newish blog called Modern Mormon Men. It’s a post about couple dating which is the process by which couples become bff’s. I wasn’t sure if this was a Mormon phenomenon or just a married phenomenon, but it seems to be more the latter. Anyway, it’s satirical, and if I know you, this post is officially not about you. Unless it is about you, in which case, you know who you are. (I’m just kidding. It really is fiction. Cross my heart hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.) You can read the post here.
2. I could have sworn there was more stuff for this list, but I forgot it.
3. I’m going to go take my Ritalin now.
UPDATE: I forgot to take it before walking out the door. Isn’t it kind of hilarious to have a disorder that distracts you from taking the antidote for the disorder?