I Will Survive

I will survive:
Breaking down on 146 right outside the gorgeous city of Worcester on Monday morning when it was 10 degrees with my four year old child
I will survive:
Arriving at my grandmothers house and realizing that not only does she have a horrific case of the stomach flu, but that she has no recollection of having it so now there is evidence of it all over the house
I will survive:
Finding out that it will cost 5 million dollars to fix my car (well really only $2100. but what's the difference really)
I will survive:
Having to take out a loan from my family for $1400. (now I really am an indentured servant)
I will survive:
Having a horrific case of the stomach flu myself, which led me to the realization that sometimes I wish I could no longer recall events in my life

That being said here's the bright side:
I can now keep down solid food.
I get to drive around in a rental with RI plates, so no matter how bad a driver I am people just expect it.
I get my cast off my broken arm on Monday

Which brings me to my new favorite band. The Cold War Kids (check out "we used to vacation" )
They are so my new White Hassle.
For those of you who don't know I used to be totally in love with the band White Hassle which turned me on the the White Stripes and now my four year old child calls her band THE WHITE PANTS. This is unrelated.
Anyway I think this band feels my pain.

Say A Prayer For Me

I know better than to diss Saints. I was brought up Catholic. Enough said, so this isn't about putting down Saints, not by any means. I've just noticed as of late that G.G. has been praying an awful lot. She's always been an avid prayer, but it's gotten a little hard core. She is 95 so it's obviously gotten her somewhere. I began to notice that she starts to pray whenever she gets in the car with me. I don't feel like she has no confidence in me and to tell you the truth I welcome the help. We are in RI after all. She also prays before she reads the newspaper, can you blame her. She prays before taking a shower, biggest household hazard. But my favorite is when she loses something. Anything. Hearing aids. Glasses. Girdle. The Butter. You've gotta get in touch with good old St. Anthony. I'm telling you this never fails. My entire family uses this favorite Saint of all things lost. You just say something like "God dammit, St. Anthony can you help me find my freakin keys." And the next thing you know your looking behind the toilet there they are. I'm telling you it's a MIRACLE.
Since St. Anthony has brought us so much success I decided to find out about some other Patron Saints. Now I wish I had known that St. Martha (?) is the patron Saint of waitresses. Where was she when I dropped that glass of red wine on the bride? Then there is St. Fiarce, the patron of venereal diseases. I mean what did that guy do to get that job. There is also a Patron Saint for brewers, schoolchildren (I don't know about homeschoolers), and grave diggers.
Now if only St. Anthony can help me find my mind?

Out To Lunch

Lydia and I took G.G. out to lunch at Newport Creamary (Awful -Awful is so Wonderful - Wonderful) , for her 95th B-Day. Everything went great, Lydia and G.G. both had sugar highs and we had a nice time in public with few disruptions. G.G. was obsessed with a man sitting at an adjacent table who unfortunately had a huge strawberry nose.

"Look at that man's nose. Turn around. Just look, it's huge. There must be something wrong with him," says G.G in a booming voice that only someone who is 90% deaf would use.

"Grandma, he can hear you."

"There is a man sitting over there, and well...I think there is something wrong with his nose."

"Grandma, he can still hear you. Please stop."

Three minutes go by.

"I just noticed, there is a man over there with a huge nose. What do you think is wrong with him?"

Then as we were walking out one of my favorite G.G.isms happens: she yells out "Look at that OLD lady, don't I know her? She's two feet away from this persons table.

First of all the woman looks like she's not a day older than 68 (she could even be 45 and a heavy drinker it's hard to tell), that's a good 25 years younger than G.G. Second of all we don't know her and at this point she's offended. Then Lydia adds, "which OLD lady, this whole place is filled with old ladies."

Just another lunch with the girls.