Little too much fun....

This is a late post. It all started innocently enough - a large gathering of family and friends out enjoying the sunshine, the food and celebrating Independence Day. Then someone said, "You know what we should get?" (I think it was me...) And the next thing you know we're mixing Jaeger Bombs and shots of Skull Vodka. Spontaneous singing of patriotic songs broke out. I still don't know all the words to "You're a Grand Old Flag" but that didn't stop me! Then my sister brought out the glow sticks and all hell broke loose. There was much revelry, even more things getting blowed up real good, and more Jaeger and Skull and then there were fireworks and more food and then....

I finally wandered home - walking - I live across the street from where the party was, hence the inebriation. I think it was about 2am. Got up the next morning at 7am to go stake out a space at the parade route. Sat in the sunny but cold weather watching the Kenosha Parade. Then onto yet another party with swimming (Brrrrr!) and a watermelon marinated in tequila and triple sec.

Luckily, I had Monday off so I had a full day to recover from my madness. It was a great Fourth!

(note: I have no idea why the word February is appearing under that first pic. 'tis a mystery...)

And now a momentary whine....

I don't really want to use my blog to vent but I'm going to. If you hate whining...look away now. I'm feeling really bad right now. So unsettled and wanting, very, very badly to be far away. It's summer and it's really hitting home that Alex is in Sweden and I am here and, for now, that's the way it has to be. For the past few years now, at this time each year, either he would come here for a month or so or I would go there. It was the milestone in the year that made all that time apart bearable. Right now we're waiting to hear from Immigration about the approval for his visa so we cannot travel since they cannot give us any real timeline and it would truly suck if he was here and the notification got sent out while he was away from home.

So we wait.

Everything I see or do here reminds me more that he is not here and I am not there. We're heading into the holiday weekend here and every plan I have is void of his presence. I hate it!! I run the gamut of emotions from lonely to sad to angry to frustrated to happy (because we ARE getting closer to the final goal regardless of the wait...). I want one thing...just one - for us to be in the same place, at the same time, together, permanently!

Okay, whine time is over. You may now return to your regularly scheduled program.

Office facelift...

Last Friday, we all spent the day painting the walls of the building I work in. Today we are rearranging the cubicles and there is much crashing, pounding and bashing going on. Everyone was dreading this day because of the interruption it would cause to their work and because they were afraid they would lose precious space. Turns out, they are gaining space and some privacy so the overall atmosphere in here today is cheery!

I've told you before that I work for a small not for profit social service agency. We are a rag tag bunch to be sure. At first sight, we don't look like your average social work types and, more often than not, people mistake that for a lack of professionalism. The bottom line is that here at KHDS we believe, first and foremost, in the people we serve. We work with alcoholics, mentally ill, developmentally disabled, drug addicted, homeless, unemployed, uninsured people. They don't always look clean or smell good or speak clearly and, sometimes, they are beliggerant and ornery. They hang out outside our building, come in and mess up our rest rooms and, once in a while, walk out with someone's purse or jacket. Other agencies put limits on the amount of time their clients can be in their buildings or when they can show up at all. Other agencies have nice carpeting and furniture and real plants in their lobbies bathed in track lighting. We have a fake ficus on a used end table. We believe that any funds we recieve is best used in programs that help those we serve and not in the interior design of our building. We also believe that if you are wearing a suit it's likely you haven't done much hands on social work in a while.

That's why this recent coat of paint and the moving about of some cublicle walls has been so invigorating. The physical participation in doing it has brought us closer together as a team and the actual visualization of our handy work made us proud.

At the end of the day, we may not look like much but we'll charm you with our personable natures and wow you with our skill. We're here to help and that's not just a saying. We really do. So don't mind that there is a tear in the seat of the chair you may sit on...it doesn't matter. What matters are the people who come through our door each day who leave just a little healthier, a little calmer, a little less lonely and a whole lot more confident that they really do have a purpose.

Wanderlust...

Heading into the work week my mind is still full of the thoughts I was having over the weekend. I'm longing to go somewhere. I know this is because it's summer and summer is the time when I would get to go on some kind of vacation. This year it's not possible and, I gotta tell you, it's getting hard to concentrate on anything because I am really wanting to go away.

It doesn't help that I have so many great Internet friends from all over the world you have been posting photos of summer in their homelands. I pour over their blogs and emails and wish that I was there.

There's Esther, who is now in Sweden on her own vacation, but who lives in Niger and each day she posts absolutely beautiful photos of what's going on at the Eden Foundation. Those bright blue skies and brilliant sunsets are stunning!

Then there's Lilly, who now lives in Sweden, and she posts her latest attempts at cooking and baking and tells her readers of the things she's learning as she assimilates to living in a foreign country.

There's the rest of the "Fikaganget" - that great group of people who share their days with me, some abroad, some right here in the US, all of them interesting, lovely people.

I am longing to travel. I want to pack up, get on a plane and go. I know exactly where I would go too. It should be no surprise that I would go to Sweden, given the chance. And one of these days I will...and I won't be coming back.

Michael Jackson...

Sometime in the 80's some friends and I, all equally broke and struggling to make ends meet, pooled together what little money we had and bought tickets to see Michael Jackson perform at the Rosemont Horizon. Our lack of funds meant our seats were some of the worst in the arena. We were at least three tiers up and far to the left of the stage.

As we waited for the show to start, we noticed that the demographics of the audience was quite remarkable in that it seemed to break all demographic barriers. The audience was made of young and old, black and white, male and female, rich and poor. The crowd burst into spontaneous song on occasion. This was just after he had released the "Bad" album so we sang songs from "Off The Wall", "Thriller" and "Bad". We sounded like crap but the camaraderie in the group was infectious. There were literally thousands of people sporting the red leather "Beat It" jacket and even grannies were stylin' the single white sequined glove.

Finally, the show started. There was some opening act and, for the life of me, I can't remember who it was or what they did. It was inconsequential. We were there to see Michael so they could have lit the place on fire and we wouldn't have noticed unless he rushed out to put it out! When Michael Jackson hit the stage the massive audience went completely ballistic. I confess, I was right there with them. He sang and dance hit after hit. His stage moved and grew and expanded and folded and it was surrounded by enormous screens so our crappy seats became far less crappy. At one point, he ascended on a crane and was almost within touching distance of us. He manhandled that stage. He owned it. He took us all in and through this two hour journey with him. He was larger than life and seemed ten feet tall up there.

It was over before we knew it and we were awestruck, spent and exhausted. It was one of the best concerts I've ever attended in my life.

As I sit here watching the news of his death, the speculation of the cause and the anticipation of what is likely to be the biggest media circus ever, I feel sad for this man/child who never grew up, never had a childhood, who only did what he was told and did it better than anyone had ever done it before. Whether you like him/hate him/vilify him/revere him - you cannot deny that Michael Jackson had a profound impact on pop music. He changed the way we listen and move and see it. He may not have ushered in the age of video but he took the medium and became it's premiere artist.

And for me, because of that one glorious, mind blowing night at the Rosemont, I'll miss him.

Rest in Peace, Michael.

About my sister...

Awhile ago I wrote about finding out that one of my sisters was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer. Her condition is such that surgery cannot help her and at the time of it's diagnosis the doc told her that the best they can hope for is to prolong her life. The cancer was mainly in her breasts but had also spread to her lung, pelvic area and lymph nodes. They decided to try an estrogen based medical treatment to see what would happen. She's now on her third course of this treatment but so far the results have been nothing short of miraculous. The tumors in her breasts have dramatically decreased in size, some of them are gone. The cancer in her lymph nodes is gone and the tumors in her pelvis have also decreased in size. The spot they were seeing in her lungs is now gone. The tumor markers in her blood work and PET Scan all show that this treatment is outright reversing most of the tumor's growth. We couldn't be happier.

We aren't foolish enough to think that the cancer will go away completely. It won't. But at this rate what looked like a few more months of her being here has now turned to a few more years. She will always have to have treatment and her immune system will always be compromised so she has to be very careful if she is around people who are ill.

She's decreased her work hours. Yes, she's worked through all of this! A testament to the strength of the women in my family - but she's cut back. She's taking time to be with her husband, her daughter and grand daughter. And me.

Today, we just went out for a drive. It was hot and the wind in the car felt good. We talked and laughed. Being summer there was any manner of odd ducks walking around town. We had ice cream. It was lovely. When I got married the first time she was my Matron of Honor. She listened while I was going through my divorce. She asks about my life and my life and my dreams for the future. When I get married again, soon, I will again ask her to be my witness. And I'm thankful to know she will be here to accept that offer.

I'm close to all of my sisters but I am closest to this one. I will miss her everyday, every minute, when she's gone but for now, we have this time, and, for now, it is enough.

Recovery...or not...

After two days of all over general yuckiness known as "the flu" I have to admit that I am grateful the vomiting and other nastiness has ended but I can't shake this fatigue. I'm at work right now and quickly regretting my decision to try to get some work done. My boss, just back from two weeks relaxing in Canada, walked into my office and said "You look like shit!" How's that for a "good morning"? But he's right, I do. I have large dark circles under my eyes. I am pale and feel...well, yucky...again.

I'm going to try to tough it out until noon and then go home and sleep some more. Noon seems an awful long time off though...