The 7 dwarves were one person. Let’s see. Sleepy – check. Dopey – check. Grumpy – check. Happy – check. Doc – sure, I can be a know-it-all. Sneezy – who doesn’t love a good sneeze now and then. Bashful – Okay, perhaps if we re-named him Self Conscious, I’d be 7 for 7. PLUS I’m a slob… Except I’m not one for doting on princesses…though she did clean that house…so yeah…I am they. They are me. I am them? Gah.
I am such a spaz. My feet hurt. Shoes are not allowed indoors in this gorgeous Hawaiian hideaway on the spectacular bamboo flooring, and I am NOT complaining. We started cooking Thanksgiving dinner around lunchtime, and I kind of didn’t sit down for a long time. Let’s just say I had a plan…Operative word: HAD. I am neither mouse nor man…but my best laid plans oft go astray, too…maybe more oft than not, but that doesn’t keep me from trying (again and again). SO…The “I am a spaz” part of this paragraph came when I realised I had, in typical Shelby fashion, set out to start one task, and ended up in the right direction, but with very muddy (and apparently sore) feet.
I wanted to write an entry about my upcoming surgery. I wanted to start (or continue) the Chronic(what)cles (no, you didn’t. yes. I did) of (Sleep) Apnea. Instead, I decided to wax poetic about the seven freaking dwarves and their gorgeous housekeeper who won’t touch apples anymore. Lovely.
Better luck next time. SMAC out.
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Archive for November, 2006
The Chronic(WHAT)cles of (Sleep) Apnea
Friday, November 24th, 2006My life and how much it sucks (NOT)
Monday, November 20th, 2006I haven’t written anything since Gramps passed a few days after his 90th birthday. Sure, I’ve got plenty to say, but I think wallowing in my missing of Gramps has won the toss up between writing and sleeping every time. Maybe it isn’t all Gramps, but I sure do find myself thinking about him tons. I have a picture of the two of us framed by my bed. Sounds vaguely morbid, but I remember the entire picture-taking scenario.
I remember it was Christmas. I remember I put on a blue dress I had purchased in Italy and that it looked so horrible I resorted to a long white v-neck overshirt to cover my stomach. The dress is a satin/silk blend…I don’t think the designer ever dreamed (or nightmared) that someone would throw a horrible ribbed white cotton shirt over this wonderful creation, but in lieu of changing my clothes yet again, I covered and drove to the House of Grandpa.
Long story.
I thought I looked like Poo. But I wanted a picture with Gramps so I handed someone my camera and hugged him from behind and he protested (as Gramps always did when faced with a camera) “What do you want a picture of an old guy for?” and patted my arm with his hand.
Snap.
Perhaps some people would frame the picture they thought best “captured” the subjects’ personalities–facial expressions, hand gesticulations, good lookingness of both parties or at least presentability of the one doing the framing… I think we could have both looked better. A lot better. He could have his hand on my arm in a away that better conveyed his love for me. I could have had my hair down and be wearing maybe a hint of makeup… But I remember that moment. And I miss my grandpa.
Oh geez…here I thought I was going to write an entry about how I am staying in Hawaii right now…Chez mamaSMAC on Oahu. I was going to talk about how I couldn’t actually imagine what I did to deserve these amazing accommodations, or the presence of people like EC and SA in my life…and now I’m getting not just a little misty thinking about Gramps and what a profound impact he had on me since I was 2 months old and he became my grandpa genetics be damned and I learned unconditional love. I guess there is a parallel to be drawn. Generous hearts that embraced me into their lives, shaped integral parts of my personality (and loved me from point A to point B) meanwhile encouraging me to be a better person whether or not I thought I was capable.
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