Nightmare Where I Was The Aggressor

I have to stop talking about The Store and Grandmother or else I'll go mad.

Last night/Yesterday morning I was woken up by something at 9. I went back to sleep. I then had this nightmare, but it was of one that I had never had before. All I remember is that there was this woman -- white, average build, average brown hair, glasses -- I was preventing from going into this building. There was this series of double doors, she was inbetween them, I was inside the second set, and whenever she opened one up, I pushed her back out. She then walked over to another door, I met her, and pushed her out again. She frantically moved up and down this long series of double doors in order to get in, but I managed to laterally move with her, and stop her.

And then I woke up. Around 10. I had to go to the doctor's.

Signing My Grandmother's Death Warrant

While at the doctor's today (I had a two-for-one, a lipid panel and a meeting with a urologist for my balls) I received a call from My Father. He left me a message earlier this morning, but because of the devastating double bad news I got yesterday (see previous post), I decided to take it easy on myself and turn the fucking thing off overnight.

But he was being insistent about something, so I answered it in the lobby. The gist of it was that he wanted me to copy Grandmother's health insurance cards. Obviously it is for the nursing home my parents are going to throw her into. But My Fucking Father told me that if she asks what it's for, tell her it's the pharmacy.

Now that kind of set me off. I do not want to lie to her, especially when it comes to evicting her out of her home. Is he going to resort to subterfuge in order to get her to leave?

I kind of yelled at him after that -- not about lying, but about asking a dumb question about what is that noise he heard in the background. It was the delivery guy heading into the clinic, but he would have known that that could have happened because I told him I was at the doctor's. When I specifically told him that, he tried to interrupt me, but then he asked me what that noise was. "Are you listening?!" I angrily asked him. I hate it when I have to resort to anger to get across my general point about this entire situation over Grandmother. It's so passive-aggressive.

And I now I feel bad because I can't help but try to make it up to him by giving him a copy of Grandmother's insurance. I thought about not doing and saying I forgot, thereby making him do it essentially, but the way they're going right now, it's not going to stop the thing I want stopped: Grandmother being put into a home. Plus, I'm still kind of upset that she only used one of the insulin syringes I prepared for her while I was on vacation, even after I called to remind her. It's very petty of me, but this is the personal slight that allows me to perform the cruel act of copying her insurance cards.

So this afternoon, after having a lunch beer and taking a self-pity nap, I wake up and tell her that Father wants me to ask her for the cards. Without even asking why, she gives them to me.

She has no idea. Goddammit.

I felt bad this afternoon, going to the library and making a copy. When I return home after blogging about this I'll hand Grandmother back her cards then slip Father the copy (assuming he doesn't pick a fight with me over yelling at him this morning -- my God, we are so fucking passive-aggressive). And that's another step to shipping Grandmother out of the house, whether she wants to or not.

With this gesture, I might as well lift her up and throw her out of the house myself ... or take an ax and decapitate her. She's dead anyway.

The Double End

Father took Grandmother to the doctor this morning. I thought it was going to be me. I guess he wants to rig the visit in order to push her into a home.

He took my car, therefore I had to be up and drive him to The Store. That is where he, out of the blue (although I understand he needed to tell me the news) that there is a death date for The Store: Some time in April.

I muttered softly, "Please don't say that." Because I didn't want to hear that.

---

Later this evening, after returning from seeing Ghost Rider 2 with a friend who had free passes (review: Nicolas Cage overacting again in a boring movie that doesn't even use its 3-D well, but thanks for the passes, I'm glad to be able to spend time with you), Grandmother knocked on my door, the first of four times she did so tonight.

She told me that earlier in the evening, Father came up to her room and told her that Mother wanted her gone.

Now she's scrambling. She thinks she needs money so she can leave, so she's trying to call her real son in Hong Kong to wire her money. However, she doesn't know where she put the phone card I gave her so she can call abroad. Plus, it took her the longest time to find her son's number, another sign of her deteriorating memory.

There are a lot of things wrong with this. She doesn't understand that she doesn't need money in order to move to a nursing home. Then again, having money won't help her move, either. I don't think she understands the process beyond being thrown into a home. But then again, neither do I.

But why the fuck does she have to leave anyway? She pisses me off a lot of the time. Her memory's shot, and she repeats herself constantly, especially when she's panicking over money or a letter from her Medicare. But like I said before, she's not hurting herself or anyone else, and Father made sure she can't burn the house down because she forgot to turn off the stove or toaster oven. She's fine. Why make her leave?

Both big, bad news on The Store and Grandmother on the same fucking day. Fuck my life.

It's also frustrating to be back in front of your laptop and be stymied by the slow connection fuckin' again. A news station recently had a story about why connections run so slow, and the conclusion is it could be anything on the transmission line, from the Internet service provider all the way to your laptop.

So I'm just putzing around, reading through one page while one I clicked, like, two minutes ago is still loading. If this fucking keeps up, why don't I just go back to Netzero and dial-up? It's the same speed and a whole lot cheaper.

Just got back home from St. Louis just now.

Saw Grandmother. She had nothing better to do than to "clean" my bedroom. Clothes are stacked neatly and the other shit was pushed aside so there's a sizable amount of floor I can see. I hate it. Not only did I not want her nor anybody fucking with my stuff, now I don't know where all my shit is.

Apparently she did that instead of taking her insulin shots. I had prepared a dozen syringes for her, I think. When I came back and looked in the fridge, I see that there were 11 left.

Very disappointed. Very angry. And very worried.

She's seeing the doctor tomorrow morning. Maybe she does need to be put away.

Gone Fishing

I will be vacationing in St. Louis the next four days. I think I'll be able to hit the library and veg out for an afternoon, but I don't know when, so there will be at least a couple days I miss blogging on WAF. Also, because all the St. Louis County-area libraries are closed on Sundays (were they before? Damn state budget cuts), there won't be a Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey this Sunday, barring the unforeseen.

My ATF from one of the clubs down in East St. Louis told me she was quitting The Life in order to concentrate on her nursing studies. She told me she was leaving at the end of February, so I made plans to see her the final Saturday of the month, which she said was her very last day. However, Southwest had a two-day sale some time ago, and I jumped at the chance to book a round-trip flight for only $80. Downside is I see her a couple weeks before her stated end.

My main reason to go there is to have her jerk my dick one last time. It will be the last time I ever see that beautiful, solid woman, and I am going to be so sad.

Fell Into My Parents' Trap Of Bad News

Went to The Store Wednesday. Saw Mother there for some reason. Did she quit? I hope she didn't quit. No one is working full-time if she quit.

I knew shit quit. I may as well face the music, but I didn't want to hear the bad news. Why hear bad news? All I wanted to do was what I was there for: Filling out the goddamn property tax appeal forms and giving her the number of Grandmother's doctor so they could have scientific evidence she should be put in a home.

And it went well, though I made them go through the forms quickly. But as Mother was faxing the appeal forms to the city, she told me, "I quit."

Shit. Bad news again. Wanted to put my fingers in my ears and go "la, la, la, la. ..."

Unless this means they're keeping The Store (and keeping The Store open), this is bad news.

Being Four Goddamn Minutes Late Costs Me Eighteen Fucking Dollars?!?!?!

Alright, this shit is pissing me off so fucking bad I want to hurt somebody. Really, I want to hurt somebody. This is me at my worst, but I can't help feeling so infuriated -- at the situation, at myself, at the gods above, at everyone around me.

I had an experiment at the U. I was scheduled to do. Because I walked in at 3:04, just four minutes late, I was locked out, essentially. This particular experiment had a waiting room across the hallway. On the sign of the room where the study actually took place there was a sign: "PLEASE DO NOT KNOCK ON THE DOOR UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE." Damn.

So I cooled my heels in the waiting room for the whole hour. At the very end, I told the proctor my predicament. There was nothing she could do, she said. Four minutes. Just four fucking minutes and I can't make any money today. Goddammit.

OK, I'm still upset as fuck that this stupid fucking experiment wouldn't let me in because I was a wee bit late. I mean, who isn't late? This study was held at the business building; is business always on-time? Bullshit. But what pisses me off the most is that I faced, and created, a perfect storm of circumstances that made me late. There were so many factors that went into getting me into that waiting room 240 seconds later than I had, and worst of all, if I had avoided any single one of those factors, I would've been fine:

• The University of Minnesota has two banks separated by a very long bridge. I've been to the West Bank, where this study is, a handful of times, but not in months. And I forgot how long it took me to go from where I usually park to this business school building. Not good coming from a guy who isn't usually punctual anyway.
• So, naturally, I got out of the house late, at about 10 to 2. I need to get there at 3, and I wanted to drop by The Store to tell my parents a few things (it's an excuse to say hi to The Store). But right at the point I get on the on-ramp to the highway, I remember that there are a couple medications for Grandmother ready for her at Target, one that was called in, one that I requested. Moreover, it was close to 2 at this point, and this pharmacy takes lunch from 1:30 to 2. By the time I get there they would have just gotten back from lunch. To me that represents a serendipitous opportunity. Besides, I thought I had time and I might as well get her meds if I'm on the way there. Sadly, I didn't think that there would be a line of people waiting for them to re-open, and it took me 15 minutes to get out of Target. I was lined up to get to the highway again, but then thought better of it, flipped a bitch, and went straight to the U.
• Then, when I parked my car at the U., I felt guilty for not having enough time to drop by The Store. So to make up for that, I looked at the clock on my car, saw I had about 25 minutes left, and decided to call this garage door place. My Father wants to put these bumpers on the sides of the garage door to keep the rats out. We went there to get a new garage door opener installed a few years ago and a woman I went to high school with works at this place, and so she got back to me about this. Unfortunately, she patched me over to a salesman, and after I got down, it was 20 till. Uh-oh.

So maybe I should have run. Or maybe I shouldn't've assumed that this person wouldn't mind a guy being a few minutes late and let me in, just like every single other goddamn experiment I've done. But no. If I didn't go to Target, I would've made it on time. But no. If I didn't decide to make the call and waited until I got to the business building, or some other fucking day, because it wasn't that important, I would've made it on goddamn time. But no.

The only good that came of this is that I decided to stick around just in case I could be a part of the next study the next hour. In the meantime I spent time catching up on writing down the expenses I had receipts for. But when the proctor finally came out, she told me that that was the last study of the day. Fuck.

The study paid six bucks. Not much, but I drove and walked all that way for nothing, and since I'm not working, I wouldn't have minded $6. But that's not all. This was a two-part study, where I come back next Thursday to get paid $12. I assume that because I failed to participate in Part I, I am ineligible to do Part II. So I'm out $18. It's not much, but it's not nothing, and I'm not going to get it because I was four goddamn minutes late. This mistake is going to punish me for a whole fucking week!

I am still so hot over this. I now have to compensate for this by not spending $18 somewhere else, either on my vacation or before I leave or when I come back. It seems so fucking simple to just show up, but because I didn't I have to make all these alternate plans.

Fuck my life. Goddamn. ...

Grandmother Refused To Go To The Arbitration Hearing The Way I Refused To Go To Kindergarden

Remember when I said I was taking Grandmother to the law firm Monday? Well, I might as well let the cat out of the bag because she changed her senile mind.

I had told her the day before about this deposition, and the preparing for it, because she probably wouldn't remember if I told her before then. She seemed OK, but then wanted to back out. But I insisted that she do this because when she told me about the car accident she was in, she told me wanted to go through with it. Of course, that was several months ago, so she probably forgot, but dammit, what else could I do? I'm making her lie in the bed she made.

So I wake up about two hours early and remind her, once again, that we're going -- get your hair did and all. And she seemed as serene as an 84-year-old woman who may or may not know what's going on could be. So I showered and shaved for the big occasion.

But then, as I was in the bathroom, I hear her hacking up and spitting. She has had what sounds like a cold for about a week or so, so maybe there's that. But it continued, and then Grandmother did it with more frequency, and then she did louder. Finally, she started to dry-heave.

She tried faking being sick in order to get out of going to the law firm. I was afraid of this, although I didn't think she would have the balls to do it. I remember when I was 5 I was so scared of going to school that I threw this epic temper tantrums. I would literally back myself into a corner to ensure that I would not go. I remember looking at a report card one and seeing I missed nine days of school for that quarter. So dealing with this made me understand how my parents felt when I absolutely refused to go to school. Karma.

And so I felt like I had already lost her and this battle. There's no way I can make an old lady go to the law firm. Well, I guess I can lift her over my shoulder and carry her out fireman-style. But I don't want to expend the energy. Besides, would she cooperate once we got there?

I also reassessed my headstrong approach to this. I still have no idea what exactly happened in this accident, and I know even less about what Grandmother did after that. I still have no fucking clue how this law firm got ahold of her and her information. Did they literally chase the ambulance to the hospital and hectored her into suing? I don't know if I could have just blown this off, but maybe, just maybe, I should not have just rushed headlong into doing this because I wanted to hold Grandmother to her promises. What if I make things worse? And this could be a browbeating law firm that pressured Grandmother and took advantage of her frailty. I could just say that I'm stepping in and stopping this because she doesn't know what she's doing and therefore I am doing what's best for her.

In the meantime My Fucking Grandmother was pulling out all the goddamn stops. She was dry-heaving and spitting like her goddamn life depending on it. She was shouting through the walls, "I'm sick! I can't go! Cancel!! Cancel!!!" so I could hear it. When I finished showering I saw the kitchen sink turned all the way up. I thought she forgot to turn it off again, but when I called for her from the kitchen to turn it off, she bellowed from the bathroom, "I can't! I'm too sick!! You do it!! And cancel!!!" It was absolutely mind-blowing to see this elderly woman intentionally act like a brat on purpose. What 84-year-old thinks this is an acceptable way of refusing to go somewhere?

After I reminded her we were going to the deposition she started calling her friends, probably in a state of panic. Sadly, I imagine one of them going, "If you don't want to go, you have to make it sound like you really can't go. Quick, act like you're sick! Cough and wheeze and act you're about to throw up!! Then he can't make you go to work!!!"

One of the people Grandmother called is someone I refer to as her son. He's actually a family friend from way back. He doesn't have a job, so he often takes Grandmother to places she wants to go so she can buy things and, thus, feel important. She said he was coming; she even opened the front door for him to come in, despite being "sick" and all. But I was the one who needed him now. Not only could he translate what I fucking wanted to say to my immature Grandmother, I was certain he could tell me what was going on with this deposition and how she fucking got into an accident in the first place.

He told me. I still don't quite understand. But it was getting to the point where we were supposed to be at the law firm. It was too late, and Grandmother wasn't going anywhere except lying on her death bed. I knew for some time, but we called off the deposition. Well, he did.

I don't get what happened next. I was really scared that if I called to cancel the "depo," the law firm would somehow charge Grandmother and/or me for canceling. If we weren't going to go, I just thought we would just blow them off. For all I know this was a victim assembly line, and the firm just had its paralegals run through a series of boilerplate questions and make them sign forms and then just tell them to shoo. If that was the case, ignoring them felt like the best course of action.

But Grandmother's "boy" knew the deal. He knew about the accident from the start because he's very close to Grandmother's friend, who was driving the car Grandmother was in. I got him to call the firm because I was scared. He told them Grandmother was sick. And, according to him, they said, "OK, we don't need her, we can take it from here." Really? All the letters and veiled threats to charge us fees for canceling, and you didn't even fucking need her?

Fuck this, I don't care anymore. Maybe Grandmother should be put in a home.

---

One other thing: I was certain from the first time she was really selling her pseudo-vomiting that she was faking it. But there's one important difference this day from most other days: Because I wanted to make sure Grandmother was sharp as she could be in recounting the accident, I made her take Aricept, the anti-Alzheimer's pill. It's a huge risk because I have heard that many elderly people have suffered side effects with little benefit. But I thought this was a good occasion to make her take a pill.

Just in case she wasn't faking the nausea, I logged on and Googled Aricept's side effects. One of the most common ones: nausea.

So maybe she wasn't faking it. But then, the next day, she was fine.

Fuck her, that goddamn liar.

Maria Menounos Loses. Straight Males Win!

You've probably seen this already, but I still have to salute (with my cock) the body of Maria Menounos, correspondent for celebrity program Extra TV and, in my very humble opinion, the most underrated known hot chick on Earth.

She is a New Englander, and a Boston fan through and through. So she made a bet with fellow Extra TV reporter A.J. Calloway that her New England Patriots will beat the New York Giants in Super Bowl XLVI on Sunday.

If the Pats beat the G-Men, Calloway had to appear on-camera wearing a Patriots cheerleader uniform. But thank Buddha they didn't. And so, to make good on the bet, Menounos, did this:

One thing: I've seen a lot of photos of her baring her lean belly and her belly piercing. To those who knew of her beforehand but not her particularly, uh, slutty accoutrement, does knowing she reports wearing that lessen her credibility in your eyes?

For me, I don't care about her reporting. Don't they I have for a long time. I just want to fuck her. So bad.

Till then, fap-fap-fap! I promise to jerk off to Menounos as soon as the shit regarding The Store and my parents wanting to put Grandmother into a home blows over a bit.