beenie

Never Goodbye. Just "see you later."

Let me tell you a little bit about my grandma.

Virginia Ann was born on March 2, 1928. Well, she was supposed to be Virginia Ann, but the priest wouldn't baptize her with the name Virginia since it wasn't a saint's name. So she was baptized Ann Virginia.

When Virginia - "Ginny" to her friends and "Ginger" to her siblings - was a teenager, she wrote to "any soldier" in WWII. A soldier named Erwin responded - to make a long story short, they married after the war and had three beautiful sons, each five years apart. Michael in 1947, Thomas in 1952 and Andrew in 1957. They lived happily in the suburbs, buying their dream house in Stony Brook, NY in the late 60s. Virginia was a homemaker and Erwin a... well, he was a bunch of different things, including a New York City fire chief. But most of all, he loved Virginia. Erwin passed in 1975, 11 days before his 53rd birthday, leaving Virginia a young widow at 47.

Virginia never found anyone special to spend her time with, much less remarry - when a cousin and I asked her about this years ago, she said that she didn't even want to both trying, because nobody could replace her husband.

I grew up with a strong matriarch - she was always in charge. We lived with her when I was born and my parents didn't know what they were doing, and my aunt and uncle moved in for a month or so when my younger cousin was born and they didn't know what they were doing. She enjoyed doting on her "chickens," but was always quick to let them know when they were full of "friggin' crap." :lol

I moved in with Grandma when I went to college - it made sense. I divided my time between her house and my parents' house for all 4 years. She bought me my first car. I was her "nurse" when she had quintuple bypass my first year of college - I cleaned her wounds, dressed her back up, brought her to all of her doctor appointments. I tried my best to take the best care of her I could.

After college, I moved away to be with my now-husband. I know Grandma missed me, and I missed her. I'll never forget the Easter a year and a half after I moved away, when I decided to surprise my family for the holiday - only my parents and my sister knew I was coming. When I walked into my Grandma's house, she started jumping up and down - well, as much as she could, anyway, gave me a huge hug and said "oh, my Beenie's come home!" My father told me later that it had been the biggest show of emotion he'd seen from her in over 30 years.

I hadn't mentioned it here, but Grandma's been in the hospital since Memorial Day - she'd gone in for some back pain and wound up having a toe amputated. She didn't like to cause a fuss, so she'd never told anyone that it had swollen and turned purple (she was diabetic and had neuropathy). She hadn't been doing so well last week, with fluid in her lungs and no sensation in her legs, but they said it was from having been in bed for 2 months. Mom called with an update a few days ago, saying Grandma was doing much better, regaining feeling in her legs and breathing much better. Tey were making plans to move her to rehab later this week. But for some reason, I couldn't shake the voice in the back of my head that kept telling me she wouldn't be going back home.

Unfortunately, I was right.

Grandma passed at around 7:10 PM eastern. She had a massive heart attack. The doctors tried to revive her 4 times, but at no time did she come back for more than 20 minutes. The family decided - and as much as it hurts to say this, I agree with them - that it was time to let her go.

After 30 years, my grandmother has rejoined her beloved husband, and together they will watch down on the rest of us and tell us when we're full of "friggin crap."

I love you, Grandma. SO much. And I'll miss you - more than you will ever know. And I will always - ALWAYS be your Kathleenie Beenie.

Virginia Ann A. is survived by her three sons: Michael, Thomas (Patty) and Andrew (Violet); by five grandchildren: Veronica, Kathleen (Bryan), Theresa, Andrew and Matthew, sister Louise, brother George, friend of the family Peggy, and many beloved friends.

It all started with a Pedicure

Thongs, flip-flops... whatever you call them, I've never been able to comfortably wear them. But when it came time for me to go get a desperately-needed professional pedicure, I sucked it up and bought a pair, knowing that my beloved black Bass Laila sandals would not be sufficient. Not to mention I was wearing a brown top and khaki pants - black sandals wouldn't have been sufficient, anyway.

But, I digress.

Not wanting to spend a lot of money on something I'd probably never wear again, I stepped into the most evil of evil consumer empires and purchased a $1.97 pair of flip flops with a rattan-looking footbed and requisite brown fabric straps and trim. They're actually really cute, and they matched my outfit perfectly. I put them on in the parking lot and went to the salon.

Walking from my car to the salon, I was sure I looked like a moron - I'd never before worn flip-flops, because every time I'd tried, my toes would scream at me - I'd never mastered the art of walking with something between my toes. I hated it. I wanted nothing more than to take them off and put my nice, comfy, supportive best-sandals-ever back on. But I persisted, intent on being able to keep what was to be my shiny new pedicure from smudging.

After the pedicure, I went home, where I kept the flip-flops on for the rest of the day. Gradually, they became more and more comfortable. I started wearing them to work on casual days. I started to - gasp! - like them.

Me? Liking a pair of flip-flops? You could knocked me over with a feather (and that's saying a lot).

I started to covet more, all the while remembering how damn cute they are. Beads! Studs! Crystals! Flowers! Oooooooh, shiny!!!

So I went to a not-so-evil consumer empire today, and bought these:

They're comfy, they're black, they're slightly "summer dressy," and they're much more sparkly in person. I love them! <3

You're effing kidding me, right?

So I get to work today, early as usual since Bryan and I ride in together and he has to be in 30 minutes before me. I logged on to my computer, opened all the programs I need to do my job, and double-checked the online scheduler to make sure the scheduling department didn't move my breaks (they do that sometimes when we're really busy), and there I saw it:

07/02/06: VACA All Day

My vacation request for today - which had previously been denied due to staffing - went through AFTER I was already gone for the weekend. And of course since it's all auto-generated by computers, nobody knew.

When I saw that I was "supposed" to be on vacation today, of course I hightailed it home. I had all these grandiose plans. I was going to do laundry. I was going to clean. I've done nothing but sit around and be a sloth drawn to both the glowing box in my living room and the glowing box in the office.

I missed the comcert for nothing. I'm now absolutely convinced that there is some kind of strange, cosmic reason I'm not supposed to go to a DMB concert.

Say Goodbye

Not only the title of one of my favorite DMB songs, but also what I have had to do to my tickets for tomorrow night's show at Alpine Valley.

Some years, I didn't have the money. Some years - like the year I got married - I didn't have the time (the show was on my wedding day). Other years, they were sold out before I even knew when they were playing. Every year, something, just something, came up. My favorite band EVER, and I've never seen them live.

But THIS year was... different. This year was THE year. The year all the stars and planets and outside obligations and finances aligned in just the right way for me to finally be able to attend a DMB concert. I had the time, I had the money. I went to Ticketmaster's website and bought them.

I specifically ordered tickets for the Sunday night show since I had Sundays off.

Then my schedule changed, and I work Sundays. I put in for the day off, but wasn't optimistic since it was a holiday weekend.

UPS tried to deliver the tickets three times.

We were home all three times, but our frickin' door buzzer doesn't work, and UPS only left a tag on the third-and-final attempt, and I didn't have time to go pick them up at the UPS facility.

I called Ticketmaster, and they said they'd re-send them - USPS this time.

They never arrived

I got a call from Ticketmaster yesterday morning, saying that they could either email them to me or have them waiting at the box office.

Double-checked, my day off was not approved.

We'd better be busy.

At least I got my money back (save the $15 I paid to have them sent UPS in the first place - wonder if I can deduct it from my rent. :P)

Maybe there's a reason this happened. Maybe I'm just never supposed to see DMB live. There had better be a DAMN good reason, because it just doesn't seem like it's in the stars for me to be able to do so.