Kitty

Being home and having a lot of free time has been really nice. I've gotten to do things I wouldn't normally have the opportunity to do. For example, last week I stayed with my cousin's adorable daughter when she had to stay home sick from school. Today, my mom and I spent the afternoon with my Grandmom, Kitty, who is my dad's mom. We helped her clean her windows, wash her curtains and put up some new shades.

While these tasks aren't fun in and of themselves, doing them with my grandmom makes them pretty entertaining. In her old age, she has become one of those sassy old ladies who just decided she's been around long enough to say whatever she wants. Some people may be put off by this but I find her hilarious. Some of her lines from today include the following:

- On my mom suggesting we go to Home Depot to get new window treatments: "Oh yeah, I have a charge card for there. Hot Damn!"

- On arriving at Home Depot, the greeter at the entrance said "Hello ladies, how are you today?" "SHADES!," Grandmom shouted over him. "Window shades!"

- On how long her nails have gotten: "Well, I love to pick scabs..."

- On serving us lunch: "I don't want to hear anything about any diets. This lunch is...this lunch is just go to hell!"

- On kids not getting up and sneaking down to look at their Christmas presents: "Oh, I used to pee the bed every Christmas Eve."

- On her 80-something sister getting remarried this summer: "Well, don't tell me there wasn't some hankey pankey going on before that. She thinks she's still 60 years old, ya know."

Don't think I'm not taking notes for 50 years from now...

Scaredy Cat

As I was going to bed the other night, I realized that my closet doors were open and I got out of bed to close them. As I did that, I wondered why it really mattered to me that the doors be closed. Then I remembered that when I was little, I was afraid of my closet. I tried to remember why- I think it had to do with the loud noise the doors made when they opened or closed, along with the dark, hard-to-access, hard-to-get-out-of corners.

That got me thinking about what else I was scared of as a kid, versus what I'm scared of today as a sort-of adult. Let's see how the past stacks up against the present:


Then: My closet
Now: Dying a spinster

Then: The sound of the toilet flushing in our hallway bathroom
Now: Developing chin hairs

Then: My mom when she was angry
Now: My mom when she's angry

Then: Getting kidnapped out of my bedroom window at night
Now: What state Social Security will be in when I retire

Then: Escalators
Now: Melanoma

Then: Accidentally farting in public
Now: Accidentally farting in public

I guess some things will never change.

Just Desserts

This is bad. Since I came home, I've been trying really hard to detox from alcohol, bad-for-me food and general sloth-ish behavior. I've been going to the gym with my sister as her guest, taking spinning, kickboxing and boxing circuit classes. I've been eating lots of fruits and vegetables and I haven't had an alcoholic beverage in almost two weeks. I also haven't really had any sort of baked good or candy bar either and that is the really difficult part.

Tonight, Jackie and I went to spinning and then came home and had grilled chicken and salad and some raspberry Jell-O. But then we started watching the World Pastry Chef competition and things went downhill- fast. Without saying anything, we'd both gotten up multiple times and wandered out of the family room and into the kitchen, scavenging for something sweet. Unfortunately there's not much to choose from, since we've refrained from buying the bad stuff. The remaining 1/16 of a week-old apple pie has several fork marks in it. Three half-stale jelly peach rings aren't getting the job done, and I felt ashamed at almost being caught squeezing year-old blue decorative icing out of the tube directly into my mouth.

We didn't realize the extent of our desperation until I remembered a Kinder chocolate hippo that had been in a candy dish in the family for I don't know how long. I snatched it up and Jackie grabbed a knife. She cut it in half and took a nibble.

"It doesn't taste good," she said. "I think there's a cobweb in it."
"What?!" I replied. "Let me see."

I looked into my half. It looked like the cake-like substance inside had gotten very crumbly but I didn't see any cobwebs. Undeterred I sallied forth and took a bite as Jackie threw her half away, wondering how unacceptable it would be to pull a George Costanza and fish hers out of the trash. Before I could complete that thought though, I realized that the confection I was chewing to satisfy my chocolate craving tasted like blue cheese.

I spit it out, threw away the remainder and joined Jackie in leaning over the sink, repeatedly filling our mouths with water and spitting it out. I think we've hit a new low.

No Place Like Home

I've been home for three weeks now. Here is a little bit of what's been going on:

- I went to a Phillies game with my dad and resisted the urge to turn around and chastise the obnoxious man behind us heckling the left fielder
- I danced on a layer of beer and broken glass at the O.D. in Sea Isle
- I've expressed my concern over the possibility of meeting a guy who's really great but has a strong Philly accent
- I started going to the gym and tore up my little baby hands in boxing circuit training class
- I've seen almost all of my best friends and a good number of family members
- I housed a third of a box of Pop'Ems in one sitting
- I've taken multiple bubble baths
- I've taken some long drives and subsequently have sung show tunes at the top of my lungs
- I've made an average of four Wawa trips per week

We'll see in the next few months what else the US holds for me...