doc just sat up and asked me when i was leaving. out of a sound sleep, he did this. i said, "nowhere, what's wrong, honey?" and he says, "I thought you had an appointment with your friend," and at this point i am very confused, i don't have a friend, and i don't have appointments. then he insisted that i had appointments all day and what was i doing home? keep in mind it's 10pm while this is happening. i just kissed his forehead and tucked him in and told him to go to sleep, i had worked it all out. he seemed satisfied with that and sunk back into sleep.
i'm listening to Hole's "Celebrity Skin". the whole album, not just the single. it's been a long time. i have so much music i like and i'm always getting more, that i never seem to have time to listen to it all. and i just found three johnette napolitano albums that i haven't ever heard. but i'm in the mood for something familiar tonight. and lyrics that have nothing to do with family. Hole fits the bill perfectly.
i have to figure out what i'm wearing tomorrow. i guess jeans and my green sweater would be all right. the shoes don't really matter, she can't see the floor from the middle of her bed. or i could wear my black satin pants with the sweater. and a hat. yes, another hat. i'm covering up my dark roots. and i'll straighten my hair. i twisted it into a bun to dry when i washed it last night, so today it was mostly straight with fabulous big waves at the ends. but i've been in the bath and it's curly at the ends again and looking a bit frizzy. it's so weird having to worry about those things. i don't know what i'll do if she does want me to go home with her, i only have a couple of "respectable" outfits.
she didn't say any thing about my teeth, but she kind of avoided looking at me. she looked at doc mostly. or straight ahead. she was a jabber mouth. she talked for almost two hours. it was fabulous. i could listen to her forever. she has the most wonderful voice and northern california accent and she is most eloquent. so much so, it's hilarious when she let's out a "shit" when she was telling a story.
when my dad called, she didn't tell him i was there. that was nice of her. i left my number for her. it's there, so my parents can have it if they want it, i guess. i don't really care about that, i just hope they don't take it from her. i don't think she'd let them, she doesn't put up with any bullshit, stroke or no.
doc is being very good. i mean really great. his dad had a stroke a few years ago and went through the same thing Nana is going to go through and he was so encouraging and so informative . . . telling her what to expect and how good she would feel after the stint was in place.
i'm sure he's curious about my cousin. he spent 25 years in the Navy, point 1, and married a Japanese girl, point 2. if there is anyone in the family i'm sure he'd like to know it's them. i'll see if i can get back in touch with my cousin. we were just kids when we last saw each other. we used to spend christmas eve's together at Nana and Papa's place. and when you picture it, do not picure a quaint old house with moldering old people . . . no, an ultra modern condo/home with huge picture windows and a loft and open multi level floorplan and big mirrors and a wall of glass that looks out on the entire bay area. the Golden Gate Bridge . . . the other bridge i forget the name of. the port. everything. the tree was always over 8 feet tall, encased in an iron framework and suspended from the ceiling over the split stairs leading up from street level. amazing. is it any wonder i run back there in my mind? so yeah, before dinner on xmas eve, we would all get together in the living room with carols playing and the kids would open presents one at a time. and at the time there was only the three of us. me and my two male cousins, one a couple years older and one a couple of years younger. and we would open our presents and make a huge mess and announce our gifts to the room full of cocktail drinking and hors d'oeuvre munching adults. then we'd have a big pot of fresh, steaming cioppino (a tomato based seafood stew, said to come from the port of San Fransisco, made at the end of the day by the wives of fishmongers with the leftovers of the day's catch) it would be piled high with shrimp and crab. and we would have steaming loaves of fresh, that day, sourdough bread with whipped butter.
oh god, i'm dying! i'm literally drooling right now thinking of it. going down to the piers with Nana, down in the city, across the bridge i can't remember the name of. shopping the open markets for the fish, passing steaming pots of crab . . . i'm telling you, my happiest days were with this woman.
i know she cooked other things, i have a picture of Papa with a big ass turkey. but it's the cioppino i remember. and her garlic sourdough bread. and she used to feed me canned pears and cottage cheese. which i objected strongly to, but now crave. they would take me out to dinner all the time in the dresses that my mom would make me, showing me off. but i was a picky eater and never finished my food, and they would feed me anything i wanted to try, filet mignon when i was 14 in Squaw Valley. and every time my Nana would declare, "You waste all of your food, i'm never taking you out to eat again!" and she'd always take me out again. today we argued about the value of vegetables. i was on the losing side, as she and doc ganged up on me with their pro vegetable propaganda.