Part II: Because Cancer is Bull$#*%

( If you don't understand this post, go to Cancer is Bullshit Part I).  Brendan is having surgery today following 5 rounds of chemo.  It has really rocked his system, but he's stayed positive through this ordeal.  Please keep him in your prayers that the doctors can remove this cancer without having to amputate his leg.

Big Momma Would've Been Proud

Since I'm writing for Assocaitaed Content again, I'm hoping to expand my audience and gain more clients.  Business has been slow and I'm trying to rally.  I was assigned to write a short fictional piece, so I based my story on a fictionalized event from my Gonga's life.  For instance,  Big Momma was actually the name of my great-great-great Grandmother Orbie Johnson, and it was a steak knife, not an icepick.

Enjoy!

As I trod barefoot across the worn wooden floor, I bent down to pick up the discarded tissues that lay scattered. My friend Judy sat cross-legged on a worn couch, wrapped in a multi-colored afghan despite the sweltering mid-day Georgia heat. Half packed boxes filled with stacks of framed pictures awaited packing peanuts and bubble wrap. A bookshelf of dog-eared romance novels had been pushed aside to reveal a small hole in the wall. Curious but respectful of Judy's present anguish I squelched my desire to look inside.

"Judy, I'm so sorry Big Momma died. I know you've heard that so many times already, so I won't try to offer you any false comfort. Death stinks and right now is a rotten time, but I'm here to help you. We've got to get this place packed up and cleared out by the end of the week before the condo association changes the locks on your Grandma's place." 

Sighing, Judy cast off the afghan and stood up. "Thanks for coming. I just can't motivate myself to finalize anything. I get a box half packed and then I find something of hers that makes me cry. I know once I seal these boxes shut, I have to admit that she's gone. I can't pretend that she's in the kitchen frying chicken."

"I know dear. Loosing my Grandma last year was difficult and I was fortunate to have the nursing staff handle all her affects. I wish you had that, but since you don't I'll do what I can to make this easier."

Determined to move Judy into action, I tossed a tissue at her. "Come on. Big Momma wouldn't want you crying. She'd be telling you to put on some makeup and go buy drinks for the cute guy at the bar. Here's a box."
 
For the next three hours we packed pictures, dusty figurines, and assorted knickknacks into stiff cardboard boxes. I would run the tape dispenser across the top while Judy looked away. We talked about friends we grew up with, gossiped about the local beauty queens affair with the town mayor, occasionally reminiscing about Big Momma. When we arrived at the bookshelf I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer.

"Judy, why on earth is there a hole in the wall behind the bookshelf?"

She began to laugh, the first time in days. "Big Momma hid an ice pick in there so the cops wouldn't find it."  

If you want to find out why Big Momma hid an icepick in the wall, follow this link to read the remainder of the article. 

Chewing Gum Can Be Hazardous To My (Mental) Health

Came across a snarky, inappropriate blog that I have crush on right now, A Beer for the Shower.
Check it out if you like laughing at the antics of under-published, under-employed writers, such as myself.  But as much as I am falling more in like with the beer swilling boys, I am really, really grossed out.

WHY?

I'll tell you why.  Bathrooms have bathroom germs!

Here's the thing, I've watched the science shows, I know about the water mist dispersal rate with each flushing of the toilet, and that I am probably using a tooth brush that has been covered in a light mist of urine and poo.  I just tell myself that the cleaning ingredients in my toothpaste eradicates all icky germs that might be dancing on the spiny bristles.

Food and drink however, have no protective barrier.  There is nothing that could convince me to eat or drink in the bathroom.  My frister (friend/sister) drinks her coffee while she puts on her makeup.  EW!

I'm so paranoid about floating bathroom germs coming into contact with my food I won't even chew gum in the bathroom unless I hide the gum under my tongue with my lips tightly clamped shut.  Yes, I do know how neurotic and insane that sounds, but it's my quirk that I'll gladly hang out to, even though I've worked out most of my neuroses via therapist the past three years.  

Food and/or drinks do NOT belong in the bathroom!

Bathrooms Do Not Equal Foodrooms

Haiku You Too or Random Stuff That I Think Of

I'm picking up writing for Associated Content again.  I got assigned a haiku the other day, which is the only piece of poetry that I can write.  The 5,7,5 rule rocks. I'll be haikuing everyday for them.  At 1 centavo per 100 clicks I should be making 2 cents everyday! 
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Last week after I stopped crying, pulled my head out of the pillows, and got back to work, the first thing I decided to do was to get back to work.  Because nothing more says "I should tackle the 3 weeks of work I left unattended while I dealt with dead grandmother stuff," then re-arraigning the furniture in three rooms.  If I could just remember that I decided this impromptu reorganization at night.  So far my midnight trips to the loo have involved several bruises and a near encounter with a door frame.  But I digress.
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My sarcastic mouth is going to be biting me in the butt soon.  The Kiddo heads of the Kindergarten next month and I can just imagine the phone calls I'll be getting:
"Ms. Pollock, when I asked your son to stop picking his nose, he informed me he was digging for gold."*
"Ms. Pollock, when we go on field trips, please teach your son not to yell at other drivers for driving like morons."
"Your son told another student, 'I might be short, but you are ugly.' This is not an appropriate response towards bullying."
"At Wednesday Mass, when the Priest says 'The Mass has ended," he yelled "Yes!" and attempted to fist bump the child next to him.  This is not tolerable."*

(I know these things are gonna happen, because he's already said this at home.)*
I can't wait for school to start! 

Things I Don't Understand

---  How vacant-faced Casey Anthony wasn't found guilty of at least child neglect or manslaughter?  With my <very limited> knowledge of the law (2 paralegal courses thank you very much!) I understand that in criminal cases the burden of proof is on the prosecution proving their case beyond a shadow of a doubt, but SERIOUSLY, how did the jurors find her innocent of those charges? 

----How female journalist Mac McClelland found violent sex to be the cure to her PTSD?  As an assault SURVIVOR I am all for women taking back control of their lives whether it be facing their attacker in a court, writing or talking openly about their experience without shame, learning self-defense moves, or working with an organization that promotes healing such as the Joyful Heart Foundation.  (Thank you Mariska Hargitay!) 
Several years ago I struggled often with flashbacks during intimate moments with an ex.  It was so hard on the both of us.  Rather than enjoying the expression of our love, I would curl up in a ball crying.  The moment would be lost, he would be angry, and I would usually get drunk.  I have no desire to ever put myself in a situation where I felt like I was under attack again.  Now it took me 7 years and three broken knuckles to get myself the help I needed, so I don't want to discourage this woman from healing, I just have no idea how to support this method of therapy.

----Why my grandmother had to die.

I don't have too much more right now.  I've been out of my groove for a while.