I KNEW It!

I have long believed that karma, the universe, the cosmos, whatever you want to call it, has it out for me. Things like going on vacations and enjoying myself have unleashed whirlwinds of misery on myself and my friends. Case in point: August 2006, I went to Disneyland with my parents, brother and sister-in-law, and one of my best friends and we had a wonderful time. Not one week later I was laid off from my job, that same day my friend found out her boyfriend was a two-timing toolbag, and in the following months my mother was diagnosed with not one, but two terminal illnesses, and my paternal grandmother passed away. So I should have known when I made plans to go to California for a week this fall, something would happen. Not two days ago, my aunt, The Accidental Housewife, and her husband, Mr. Big, got the plane ticket as my birthday present. And today I get jury summons covering Oct. 15-Nov. 23. JURY SUMMONS! I have only officially been a resident of the state for 27 days. UGH!

A Padded Cell Is Nice and Quiet At Least

Things That Have Sent Scully To The Brink of Insanity This Week.

• My own personal Dwight disliking a little colleague criticism (not from me, but from someone in his department) so much that he stormed out at 9am Tuesday morning and never came back. Until our boss coaxed him back Wednesday. Apparently he does this on a semi-yearly basis and always gets rewarded for it. If he were two, instead of just acting like it, he wouldn't have gotten rewarded, he would have been spanked and sent to time out. Also, if he was so stressed, take a stupid vacation like everyone else. UGH!
• A great-aunt (my mother's father's sister), who shall be called Bizmo, as that is what my mother and her sister called her because they have two crazy aunts with the same name and there had to be some sort of differentiation, sent a whole packet of legal crap in an effort to court familial sympathy. Back story: my mother and her five siblings were raised on a family farm. Their father had originally tried to get off that farm and was fairly successful working in construction until his father, mother, and siblings were faced with bankruptcy or foreclosure or something. My grandfather returned to save his family, was deeded the farm, got it up and running again, and generously called it the ______ Brother's Farm because his brothers were pretty backward and most, if not all, had mental handicaps. Also, he had three sons and they would inherit, also being the ______ Brother's. When my grandfather died in 1978 his brothers sued my grandmother for the farm and basically evicted her and her 5 children remaining at home. A reason they gave for the eviction was that my mother's health issues (dialysis and kidney transplant) had nearly bankrupted the farm and taken a huge toll on the family finances. Which was patently UNTRUE. Back to today. Aunt Bizmo thinks that she should have the farm. Which basically doesn't exist anymore because the brother that was given the farm in the suit sold it piecemeal and also let it go to pot. Figuratively AND literally. So now Aunt Bizmo is trying to have this brother declared unfit to make the latest deal selling the last of the farm. And she thinks the rest of us care. When I read the packet she had sent, I was so mad I mentally composed a scathing letter to her. Because not two years ago she sat in our living room and told my mother straight up that she (Aunt Bizmo) deserved the farm because my mom, specifically, and her family, generally, had gotten so much out of it already. Then she had the audacity to go to pieces over my mother's casket. Look, now I'm all in a rage again.
• The fact that my beloved city of London seems to be turning into hooliganville. Maybe I have a false image of the city, maybe the news is just focusing on the shocking, but it seems that it has become so much more violent than it used to be. It makes me sad.
• The recurring nightmares that A) my mother is alive but still sick and wasting away and there is yet again nothing I can do for her or B) that my father's life is somehow endangered. When I wake up after nightmare A I spend the morning doing guilt about not doing enough for my mother during her final days. When I wake up after nightmare B I spend the day restraining the obsessive need to call my dad and check up on him. It makes me long for the days of vampire dreams.
  
• The suspiscious brown puddles my dad noticed in the garage and which I now notice after I drive away from whereever I have parked. I cannot afford this. At. All.

Things That Kept Scully From Going Over The Brink

• The Garden State soundtrack. I know it is 3 years old or something, but it is seriously good music. I love all the songs, but the ones I love the best are New Slang by The Shins and Let Go by Frou Frou. Check it out and thank me later.
• Buying cute heels. Money CAN buy happiness. Or at least a temporary stay against the growing rage and insanity.
• My summer TV addictions. Now this is somewhat of a confession because I know some regular readers, at the very least Miss Parker is going to raise an eyebrow at this list. But here they are in all their glory: Eureka and Doctor Who on the SciFi channel and Monk and Psych on USA. These shows make me laugh, have adorable characters, and just generally let me escape for an hour.
  
• Dr. Pepper and Coke with lime. Although I have to buy lime juice and add it to the Coke, because I can only ever find Diet Coke with Lime and I can't drink diet sodas because they give me migraines. And I'm seriously going to give up the caffienated beverages cold turkey when life settles down. I promise.
• The idea that in 12 short months I could be living here and going to school here. Have I mentioned I'm planning on going back for a master's degree in secondary education? Well I am and this place has a good program. You are all invited to come visit.
  

Let The Countdown Begin

So yesterday, the 19th, was a momentous day. Not just because it happens to be the birthdate of two Fantasy Boyfriends, but because it starts the countdown to my birthday. I have 8 short weeks before I enter my last year as a twenty-something. Now, most people would see the countdown to a birthday as a good thing. Unfortunately, not me. See, since my 21st birthday, spent enjoying plays and seeing the sights in Dublin, Ireland, my birthdays have generally been on a downward trajectory. I don't remember much about birthdays 22-24, but seeing as how they were spent in Provo, Utah, they can't have been that great.

Birthday 25 was spent unemployed, living at home, and miles away from my friends. I think my friend, Mr. Perfect, took me to see a movie, but the movie stunk and was rather raunchy and basically killed any impetus either of us had to hang out again. Then he started dating his future wife and I didn't hear from him again for a couple of years.

Birthday 26 was spent in a rathole apartment in Salt Lake City, unemployed still and generally just freezing. I do remember getting to use my aunt, The Accidental Housewife's, car as she was in California spending the first of many weekends with her future husband, Mr. Big. So I was happy for her.

Birthday 27 found me driving an hour to have dinner with a few friends. Most of the people we invited couldn't make it for one reason or another. One of my good friends came, but she had just had jaw surgery and couldn't really eat anything and wasn't really having a good time. Another friend decided to stage a dramatic DTR/walk-away-from-the-table for 45 minutes with her then boyfriend. Also, that was the week my younger brother Mime announced his engagement to a girl we had no idea he was dating. Nothing better to remind me that I will die alone and be eaten by Alsatians. Finally, my optometrist diagnosed me with optic nerve head druisen, which means at some point I could totally lose my peripheral vision and nothing can be done about it.

Birthday 28 was by far the most memorable. I found myself unemployed yet again and that was the week my mother was told she had less than a year to live. On a less important note, half the people I invited to a party thought it was a weekend later than it was and called me a few days later to apologize. I felt loved by the whole universe.

So I am not looking forward to these next eight weeks. I'll be waiting for the other shoe to drop. Also, I think I inadvertantly agreed to keep an eye on the 17 and 12 year-old daughters of some people in my ward that week. Which means I'll be spending my birthday with them. Lovely. At least I can look forward to going to The Accidental Housewife's house and meeting her dog Dudley.

Calling All Austen Fans

Doesn't this seem like the best slumber party game ever? You are all invited. Too bad we couldn't throw in a couple of Victorians like Mr. Rochester and Mr. Thornton. Although Mr. Darcy, Captain Wentworth, and Mr. Knightly aren't too shabby on their own.

Just A Reminder

Richard Armitage, the actor who is Mr. Thornton, is going to be on PBS's Mystery! presentation of Miss Marple Series II: Ordeal by Innocence tomorrow night. I believe it is on at 8 PDT/9 MDT, but check your local listings!