Mourning with benadryl

I'm covered in hives.

I'm not sure why, but I guess it's because of the funeral.

Last week, we got a terrible call at 8:30 in the morning. My husband's best friend, a young man with a young son, a wonderful friend and an amazing story teller, had died.

We are still in shock, a week later. We will continue to be for quite some time. As we will continue to grieve and cry and do all things we do when we lose someone we love, I feel my sweet Mad Scientist struggling. I try to be there but I'm not sure if I'm helping.

This has brought me screaming back, five years ago to my brother's funeral, where I was covered in hives and giving my eulogy, shaking hands and consoling friends and talking with people I didn't know about funny stories that I wasn't there for, the whole while a little voice, selfish and angry, whispering to me how all you want to do is tell everyone to shut up and slink away to sleep for 100 years.

I'm not a wise person and I don't have any answers but I am living proof that life goes on and I have found a way to be. I guess that's the only thing I have to say on this subject in life with certainty.

It's not much. But a little benadryl and a nap might help too.

The Dream Wedding

I wish I was more original.

I wish that I could be different and not want the things that are so cliche. So lame. So expected. But I'm sorry. I am the way I am. And I want to get married via lovely wedding.

I want a beautiful, meaningful wedding. Twenty of our closest friends and family join us for a very short secular ceremony. Then we have a tasteful and thoughtful cocktail reception. It's styled and lit. It has those little details people appreciate. Our guest can look around at our beautiful ceremony space and think how lovely it all is. I want to feel beautiful. My dress will be special and make me feel special for just one day. It will be stress-free enough that I can feel nothing but excited and happy to be marrying my dream fella. I'll just sit in my dress, drink a glass of champagne, and smile without worry about details, relatives or how much in debt we are for this one day. I get to be the prettiest girl in the room for one day in my whole life; the one day it's supposed to be about me.

I wish I would be ok with just running down to the court house. I wish we could just run off to europe and get married. I wish I didn't think those options were tacky and sad. (and that my mother would stab me if I did that...) I wish I didn't want this thing I've envisioned in my head since I was little. I wish I didn't care about a dress, a moment, a photo taken at a special moment.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't such a fucking girl. Fuck.

Violated car, AGAIN

mmm, yummy...I want to murder that stupid whore.

But we will get to that in a moment. In the last 6 months my car has been run into THREE times. I am filled with a little bit of rage. This time, I was actually in the car.

It's two in the morning and Jules and I just left the dance club. We had stuffed ourselves with sushi and tempura then danced the night away. Sitting at the light to get onto the highway to go home, we were laughing at the creepy freak who had tried to dance with BAM!

A silver car just forgot to stop and slammed into the back of my baby, my beautiful car that never hurt anyone or anything. Never even hit the brakes... After checking if Jules was ok (we both had/have some icky whiplash but we are fine) I went to the driver of the silver car to see if she was ok. That was my big mistake. I should have punched her in the face. I should have taken her car keys and thrown them into traffic. I should have done something that wasn't "Oh my gosh, are you ok?!"

Her airbags had both gone off and the front of her car was crunched, not to mention her engine sounded like it was about to die. She and her passenger said they were fine. I went to the car in front of us, a taxi, to see if they were ok. We had hit them when the silver car hit us. They were ok too. That when Jules yelled for me.

The silver car was backing up. The man who was the passenger was now driving and the woman was sitting shotgun. Now I must believe the best in people, because I thought that he was moving back a bit to assess the damage of his car and mine. NOPE.

That asshole/coward/evil bitch took off.

I don't know how they made it 100 feet let alone down the road and away from the scene. That engine didn't sound great and I'm pretty sure they were both trashed. So here we are, in our party dresses, freezing our asses off, standing in the bits and pieces of what used to be my bumper.

I fumed. I screamed. I kicked the plastic pieces on the ground and swore and almost cried when I saw Jules was getting really upset. It was her first ever car accident. I gathered myself and went to sit next to her.

We cracked jokes and kept each other warm while the cops came.

Woo for cops!And THEN came the best part of my night. Standing next to my car, telling Jules that we would be laughing about this in a couple of weeks, a policeman came up carrying a license plate in his hand. At first I thought, "Great... my plate fell off the back of my car..." But to my great happiness, it was THEIR plate!!! They had hit me so hard their plate had fallen off!! I did an actually happy dance right there in front of the officer, which included some fist pumping. He laughed.

All and all, it was a great night. Besides that 10 minutes that we were hit, they drove off and the complete rage I felt took over my body, it was a wonderful evening. I got to sit inside a cop car to fill out my statement, which was really interesting since I had never been in one before. Jules and I chatted and laughed in the back of the cop car as he took us home. And a dozen people stopped and asked if we were ok, which was amazing and incredibly nice.

Now I just pray hope pray that those jerks have insurance... If not, it's at least $500 and a raise in my rates, even though logically none of that makes any sense to punish me for a drunk whore hitting my car, hurting my friend and giving me whiplash.

Send me good vibes people. My car and I need them.

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