Impending Doom

I have exactly 41 hours and 25 minutes to finish three tax returns.  The final extended due date is tomorrow.  The airport post office is open 24/7.  Unfortunately, I happen to know that the IRS doesn't get bent out of shape over a day or two.  Also unforutunately, I nearly sliced off the tip of my thumb yesterday using a mandolin.  Not the musical instrument.  The food slicer thing.  Stupid, I know.  And the problem with this is that I'm having trouble typing.  Which will slown down my tax return prep.

See, I have my thumb in a bulky bandage so that when I bump it, it doesn't start bleeding again.  I have a wad of cotton under some first aid tape.  It took me a minute to figure out why the letter N kept popping up when I'd hit the space bar.  On top of that, it doesn't appear every time when I use my forefinger to hit that key.  In the interest of time, I won't correct my little problem and you can nsee nwhatn I'm contending nwith.  No kidding.  I'm going nton have tonlosse the nbandage.  Really.

So, here I sit, creatively procrastinating.n  by Blogging.  I noticed that I had 70 hits on this blog yesterday.  Way more than usual since I haven't neven been posting lately.  So I looked up the sources ofn my readers and one of the key search phrases is homemade crack pipe.  I posted about my horrid discovery in my closet right after I moved into my new house in April.  Darn it.   I'm attractng people who want to learn how to make homemade crack pipes.  Even worsen is that I posted a picture of said device.  So I think I will remove it as soon as I finish here.  I shudder to think that this blog would be instructional to crack-heads.  Or more likely, novice crack-heads, since the experienced ones probably already know how to make one or have store-bought ones.  Scary.

If I make a little progress on my tax returns, I'll ndo my usual Sunday morning thing and watch CBS Sunday moring with The Daddler.  We've been watchingn the pennant races ntogether.  The games have been good this year n-the Cards are in it and the teams are well-matched.  This is our second year to do that.  It brings back bittersweet memories of how nwe limped ntogether through those first few weeks without Mother.  It'll be a year this coming Friday.  Kiddo will be home for fall break so that will be a nice distraction.  NHe's been incredibly sweet to me nlately.  He's turning into a man, and a fine one at that (I'm a little biased).

FF will be in ntown nfor Thanksgiving, and that's a good motivator to get my house in order.  I had na huge carport sale a week nago yesterday.  It felt good to get rid nof things, but there's still so much.  Lots of blog fodder lately, including the carport sale (a 72 year old man asked me out, plus lots more hilarity with Deb there), The D's chivalrous rescue of the lady who fell down while walking down our street (turned out she didn't know her nname or where she lived), the scary threat of a visit from the Emotional Vampire (it didn't materialize, thank goodness), and lots more.

Better run since I need to replace my bandage with something less bulky and delete that awful picture.

Over and out...

Death and Taxes

Death is looking attractive.  Taxes are due in two weeks.  'nuf said...

Closure

Today, Deb and I saw some of our estranged, extended family.  It's been nearly a year since we've seen them.  I've seen four of them the couple times they've come to see The Daddler, but she hasn't seen any of them.  She was worried that the Emotional Vampire would be there.  Thankfully, she wasn't.

I told Deb it would be good to get closure.  That we should just hold our heads high and remember that we were doing this for Daddy.  And that Mother would be proud.  And extremely pissed at them.  Also, that they'd probably act like nothing had happened.

And I was right.  About the closure.  But it was impossible for them to act like nothing had happened.  Because Deb started crying.  Later, I accused her of being a puppet master.  She said her tears were genuine, but she did think about the fact that it was a smart political move.  She said the tides had turned.  And judging by the warm reception we received, I think she was right.  I worked it, too.  I took the opportunity to set the record straight on a few lies.  For example, that I did NOT call the police when EV attacked me in the emergency room.  That the nurse called security and that the Po Po just happened to be in the room next door.  And a few other things.

What I realized today was that they've never seen how much they hurt me.  I've been very strong and resolute when I've seen them.  Deb, on the other hand, showed them the effect their awful behavior had on her.  One aunt even apologized.  The one who said she was going to rip me to shreds when she saw me (she didn't).  I never got any apologies, but I don't care.  I'm glad Deb did.

With the exception of one aunt, everyone was very sweet to both of us.  This aunt just happens to be the homeopathic obsessive-compulsive one who had The D on the phone trying to spell the name of his new medicine.  The one on whom I unloaded.  By the way, she told everyone I'd cussed her out.  Which isn't true.  But they don't like her anyway.  She doesn't speak to two of her sisters-in-law, so it probably helped my standing in their eyes.  Daddy doesn't give a flying flip about her.  Her husband was there.  He's 88 years old and was wearing Bono glasses.  So funny.  They don't like him either because a) he's a yankee and b) he broke her wrist one time.  My cousin did a good job of impersonating him. 

We all had lunch together and had a nice, funny walk down memory lane.  And when we got home, sure enough, we felt better.  Somewhat vindicated.

It'll never be the same, and I'd be perfectly content if I never saw the EV again, but this was a good exercise.  In taking the high road.  Putting our damaged feelings aside for The Daddler's sake.  And consequently, it was very healing.  I guess that's why they call it closure.  A wound can't heal until it's closed.  And hopefully, one day, all that will be left is a faint scar.

A Blissful Friday Afternoon

My windows are open.  After a miserably hot summer, the cool fall weather is that much sweeter.  I'm content.  I can't think of a better feeling.  Well, maybe one, but it's much more transient.

I've decided to keep mum about that, though.  I was scolded for blabbing.  So I'll act accordingly.  I'm generally an open book, but I also take very seriously the trust placed in me.  As an auditor, I had privy to the most confidential information.  Namely, payroll.

When I prepared tax returns, I tried not to judge when clients made lots and lots of money and gave nothing to charity.  When they complained about owing taxes, I bit my tongue.  I wanted to tell them that if they had enough withheld or paid estimates, they'd be ok.  I also wanted to say, "If you make a lot, you pay a lot."  That would've been a CLM, though.  Career Limiting Move. 

Gonna quit blogging now.  I'll get back to work.  So much to do.

But I'll probably just enjoy the bliss and get an early start tomorrow...

Nurturing

I think there's an undercurrent of competitiveness.  I want The Daddler to love me just as much as the Golden Child.  The baby.  Deb.  I don't cart him around to Sam's and the barber shop and Ghengis Grill, but I manage to scare up some quasi-home-cooked meals now and then.

Soooo, I made a special trip to the grocery store today to buy beef stew meat and the rest of the ingredients.  I'm cheating and using the most amazing McCormick mix.  It comes with a bag and the seasoning and good directions.  It's a short-cut, but it still takes a good 45 minutes of prep time if you use fresh veggies (not frozen), plus 1 1/2 hours in the oven.  I made Good Seasons salad dressing (the best) and buttermilk cornbread.  Southern Living had a recipe that looked good.  It had 1/4 cup sugar, and I think that's better than what I've been doing.

My future mother-in-law invited us to come to dinner tonight.  The D doesn't want to go, but I do.  And since I'm giving him a veritable feast, I won't mind leaving him home alone.  Except I think there's a big game since Atlanta and St. Louis are tied for the wild card.  It's time for me to start watching.  I hope I can go to the World Series before I die.  Spring training would be good, too.  Wonder how far the Grapefruit League is from FF's home in FL.  Only problem is that he's not a baseball fan.

Time to check on cornbread and beef stew.  All for now...

Life is Good

I'm just back from visiting my girlfriend, Melanie.  It was like a week long slumber party.  So much fun.  I came back ready to face the world.  A new woman.

In keeping with my other post-vacay blogs, I'm just going to list the things I want to remember.  There are plenty of them.  Here goes...

Maryland Crabcakes.  Yum.  Waking up at 2:00 a.m. to the sound of the ocean and going back to sleep (without a care in the world about the end of the world or Armageddon...  a la late night talk radio).   Watching back-to-back episodes of House and Millionaire Matchmaker for hours on end.  Picking up sea shells on the beach.  Using my watercolors to paint still lifes of sea shells.  Stopping by Mel's brother and sister-in-law's house on the way from the airport.  Great dinner, complete with Ian pushing me to eat not one, but two kinds of ice cream.  Plus, lots of laughter about his crazy, maniacal driving in Manhattan; the transformation of Mel's "schlumpy" breasts into "perky" when she donned the custom-fitted bra bought from the black, British bra specialist, Sherba.  Seeing Mel's medical illustrations of the bones of the foot in a textbook for pediatric orthopedists.  Taking a shower with not one, not two, but three shower heads, including one of those cool rain ones.  Using amazing hair and skin products like L'Occitane, Aveda and Keihls (they smell sooo good).  Getting my bangs trimmed by Mel with some sort of very sharp dental instrument (she did a great job).  More crabcakes.

Happening on a little diner with a great breakfast - right in the middle of all the touristy places with lines out the door.  Eating nothing but Thai seasoned cashews, Trader Joe's peanut butter cups and garlic-stuffed olives for three days straight.  Craving fruit on day four.  Buying mood rings and seashells at the cool souvenir shop.  Wearing the mood rings and competing for the best mood.  Loving on Shane - the sweetest red-headed golden retriever in the world.  Jumping in the hot tub before heading to the airport on my last day there.  Eating crabcakes on the way.  Picking tomatoes and cucumbers and peppers and basil and parsley from Mel's garden and concocting a pasta sauce with them.

Hearing FF's ring tone and putting him on speaker phone and listening to Mel tease him (he's just like her husband, Roger).  Laughing out loud at Chelsea Handler's trashy book, My Horizontal Life.  Reading the New York Times in bed.  Drinking good, strong coffee.  Staying in my pajamas until noon.  Playing in Mel's jewelry box.  Sharing clothes.

Best of all, coming home.  Feeling loved when The D offered me his Genghis Grill leftovers for dinner.  And hugging him.  Seeing him smile. 

Hearing JoJo's soft Southern voice after a week of distinctly Jewish (loud) accents.  Finding myself speaking like a Jewess.  And loving it.

Cooking dinner for The Daddler tonight.  Tomatoes and onions and okra, garlic toast, lasagna (I'll admit, it was Stouffer's), and celery sticks, plus a Banquet berry pie for dessert.  Watching Dancing With the Stars with the cat on my lap.

Finding some semblance of a routine.  And remembering crab cakes...

Withdrawal

I miss my blog.  But I'm trying to get ready to leave town.  So much to do.  No time to spare.

The good news is that I've taken care of my clients and I think I can forget about work for a week.  Or not.  Deb is covering The Daddler - he's happy to stay at home and see her every night.  I hope to make some cornbread, fry some okra, cut up veggies and plan meals.  Out of my comfort zone.  But he'll be fine.

And I'll be a new woman when I return.

Better run.