Took my mother by the assisted living place. It was clean. The place looked like the freakin' Marriott, and there were hundreds of old, doddering ladies, just like her...

She fit right in like a puzzle piece.

Of course, her doctor said she'd love it there, and I said she'd love it there - and the staff said she'd love it there.

She said she didn't like it. But that she'd survive... *small yippee of hope*


My kidlet came up with a good, albeit expensive idea. She wants to travel across the country, to visit her uncle Steve this summer. He lives in Maine, with his girlfriend and their two daughters.

I think she needs to visit him. They were very close, and he just up and left town with not so much as a good-bye. Every time she hears from him, she gets emotional, and I think a visit would do her a world of good.

I suppose, if I can get past my own, terror of flying - I could put her on a plane and send her thousands of feet into the atomosphere - and 3,000 miles away from me. I should probably start taking Xanax now. Summer is almost here.

May 05, 2003

Buh Bye!
October 05, 2008

Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
September 01, 2008

One Last Bitchfest for the Road
August 24, 2008

Get the Popcorn Ready
July 17, 2008

I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
June 20, 2008

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