Maura's Illuminated Manuscript

So I took an 0615 flight out of Seattle and arrived in Gainesville at 1530 Eastern. Advantages:

• short security lines
• cheaper, all else being equal
• mellower people all around

Disadvantages:

• getting up at 0300
• the mad rush to get ready to leave the apartment...
• ...which I couldn't do by transit because the first train leaves downtown at 0500

As soon as I got most of the way to Mom's, I ordered a small pizza with whole wheat crust from Leonardo's and devoured it entirely because grub on planes is extra anymore.

I went for a walk down my old street in the last of the twilight, as I did so many times with my dad, whose love of walks I either inherited or learned. I cried halfway to the cul-de-sac, or as we used to call it back then, the dead end.

Niece E left me a note about clean dishes & linens, a face shield because the rehab facility requires them, and a thoroughly organized master bathroom*. What did my Evil Sister do to deserve that kid?

As for Mom, the first day with her went better than expected, to tell you the truth. She wasn't horrible to anybody. She got my gender right more often than not. She remembered that Dad is dead. Mentally, she was better than expected, but physically, not so much: she can't stand without excessive pain. And she forgets that she can't walk, as my sisters warned me. She didn't ask me to shoot her as she did at least one of my sisters, but she did say she wanted to lie down and die.

I brought her today's and yesterday's edition of the Gainesville Sun. I brought fruit and Diet Coke, but she already had those. What probably disturbed me the most while I was there was how little of her lunch she ate. My sisters say that hasn't been typical. I took the physical therapist's arrival as an excuse to leave.

I locked my key in the car. ¡Viva AAA! As I waited and sheltered from the rain** in a gazebo I chatted with a random middle-aged couple who were doing the same. I'm wearing my Pride jewelry as a protest while I'm down here; I wonder if they noticed. The young male nurse who wore a Pride-striped wristband sure did.

Thinks I never expected to do: listen to "Enjoy the Silence" on demand on I-75 and then talk to my real estate agent, both while driving a tiny, little rented Chevy. Some parts of the future are OK.

Speaking of real estate, it looks like I'm making an offer on a house. Once again there are too many things happening at once.

Time to fall asleep to the sound of some serious rain.




*I needed to find Mom's toenail clippers.
**This is Florida rain: not cold, but intense. Growing up I never realized that storm drains here are designed for higher flow rates than elsewhere.

Today is the seventh anniversary of my dad's death. I don't think about it as much as I think I should. How's that for warped? I thought of taking the Wendling to Krispy Kreme like dad used to do with me. Another day, maybe, when I'm less tired and I feel the need for an exorbitant number of empty calories. We did make it to synagogue for the yahrzeit, and it was the monthly all-musical shabbat. It was weeeid seeing the chief rabbi playing an electric bass. The irony here is that Dad was even more a godless heathen than I am. Sometimes I wonder if things (e.g. relations between Her Nibs and my mom) would be better if he were still alive, but then I think about how things were between us before he died: I actively avoided talking to him because he was the sort of person who talked at people, not with them. It's hard to imagine him living longer in good health anyway because his health had been declining linearly since before I was born. I wonder if he was ashamed of me for not finishing my Ph.D. To his credit, he never said so. Decent parents really do just want their kids to be happy. Someday I'll get around to posting the only supernatural experience I've ever had, which is of course connected to his death.

Why am I tired? Fetish night at the Vogue last night. Mmm. I talked corsets with a girl in a gorgeous emerald green sweetheart from Xcentricities with skirt to match. One of the owners, who's one of these evil women who actually look good in next to nothing, danced for what I think was at least two hours in 4" heels. I'm jealous of her about six different ways