At Least They're Committed

All right, dammit! I reread what I wrote below and it comes off as way too negative and I don’t mean it to be negative, just a general observation so that if my grandkids-that-I’ll-never-get-to-meet read it and can identify with the situation they’ll know they got their “tool” genes from me! (And most times I’m really proud of the whole serving mankind thing, so there.)

Huh. Yeah, that be it.

So here’s another stab at it. Oh, shit I think Solidad just woke up! He was passed out sitting in his garage on a chair, hunched over the card table so that, in the shadows, it looked like he had no head. There was a Miller Genuine Draft, the only thing he’ll drink, in his left hand. Anyway, I think I just heard someone hurl outside. Think it might be him. He doesn’t tie one on often. Most times when he does he sings songs from Mexico loud and out of tune. I think he misses it.

Rejoice! I met my monetary goal for the Great Strides 5K in honor of my Cousin Robyn who died in November of Cystic Fibrosis. In fact, I am $100 over my goal!!

All that is awesome except I started really, really shooting low because I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’m a Great Strides virgin! (Eyelash flutter goes here.) Plus Robyn’s family gave so much money! It made me feel bad because they already give so much to find a cure for CF! Robyn’s husband had a rough Mother’s Day. Their daughter, 4, made her mommy a card. Wanted to know how to get it to her. Wanted to know why she couldn’t go see her at the hospital.

Wow. Did I mention I’m all by myself for a couple hours? VERY exciting! I just opened a bottle of Gewurztraminer Vintage 2007, poured myself a glass, set the glass down on the counter and carried the bottle over here. Funny! No, I haven’t already started drinking!

Dreading getting up at 7 a.m. on a Saturday, but totally looking forward to crossing the finish line with my Mother’s Day Gift Running Outfit (that doesn’t match, but that’s OK), smiling and grateful for the chance to further avenge my beautiful cousin’s death and stand as testament to a way-too-short yet well-lived life!!

But, I’d really hoped a few of my friends would come through. I have given at least $300 to my friends’ causes during the past year — $20 here, $10 there, $15 elsewhere — and only ONE of my friends has donated to something that is very important to me. That friend is very near and dear to me and I’ve gotten in a LOT of trouble the past decade for being his friend even though we are just friends. This is precisely why I continue to adore him despite the ensuing marital angst and occassional ethical criticism.

Just turned over the chicken breasts! They look awesome! Chicken breast with herb sauce, restuffed potatoes, spinach and that weird wine-like drink . . . for one! SO nice!!!!

This isn’t about Seattle Bob, either, though. It’s about that I’m thinking I might be too supportive of people who don’t reciprocate. I had a conversation with Starshine about this a couple times several months back. He’s the only one I’ve really talked to about it. How we feel like we’re not powerful enough to initiate parties, activities or outings; nobody follows our lead, that we have a hard time asking for favors, that we’re just kinda the secondary person, an extra body, a tag-along; that we’re convenient.

Oh, man that first sip always tastes sooo good!! The breeze is blowing through the window, the sun is still shining, the walk home was brimming with catharsiss! Yay! I survived another Monday!

I mean, I put it on Twitter, I put it on facebook . . . twice!!! Well, out of fairness, the only people I have on my personal Twitter are the ones I can be confident won’t judge me for being a freak, so they’re excused.

But facebook? Man! I am SO supportive of so many lost, lonely, twisted, sad souls on facebook! And for what, pray tell? Now, really, I KNOW my friends love me. They tell me they do all the time and who am I to not believe them? (Unless you count the Y chromosome factor, which prompts the bearer to say anything in attempt to get in pants of the bearer of an X chromosome unless the aforementioned bearers are same sex oriented, of course.)

It’s not that I’d hoped so much that everyone would give me lots of money, just $1 or $5 to let me know they supported me.

Oooh, Solidad’s granddaughters are singing out back in English and Spanish. They can’t hold a tune either, but I’m quite certain it’s not because of any MGD. I think sometimes they sing loud and long because they want me to hear them. They peek out the windows then dash away, hop above the fence then drop when I look their way. Think I’ll savor my final few minutes alone and go out back, water the little bit of a lawn that’s appeared, and listen.

Naw, I guess I’m not making any ‘Great Strides,’ but at least I’m hanging in there.