I'm Going Straight To Hell

I'm going straight to HELL. Straight there. No stopping. 

Funerals are supposed to be solemn occasions. Especially Catholic funerals, what with their comforting rituals that see the deceased off in style. Since my uncle is a priest, it was quite the send-off my grandmother got... she would have been very pleased. No less than 6 con-celebrants and a full corral of priests, since my uncle used to be head priest at this particular parish and only recently started at another parish....

The problem wasn't the funeral. The problem, if there had to be one--and there was--was MY family. Not the extended family, not cousins or aunts or uncles. My brother, father and me.

We are the black sheep of the enormous extended Irish Catholic family. With good reason, as you will see. My brother likes to drink, for fun. He is not even 30 yet. My father had a massive stroke last year and he is not himself. Me, I'm just a regular gal, living a (non) life.

But this funeral was a most excellent fun time. For my brother and me, at least. After the visitation, the party moved to my aunt's condo and we were not invited. We were staying at a convent/old folks' home (rooms are free to family members) called The Little Sisters of the Poor. Lots of nuns in black habits, taking excellent care of the elderly--my grandmother had been one of the people receiving great care from this small cadre of supreme caregivers (it's their mission to care for the elderly).

The convent is very quiet. At night you can literally hear a pin drop. So my brother and I stared at each other over a bottle of Glenlevit and said, "Let's just go out and find a pub." We left my father there, already in bed, and drove down the street where we found a brew pub. Instead of beer, we had Mojitos. 

After a little discussion about where we could score some weed (we argued about which relatives were holding and would share), we finally just asked the waitress if she had any to sell.  She did.

Long story short: we had to use a coffee filter for rolling paper. (The convent provided fully-stocked suites...) I rolled a most excellent tight and tasty joint. We inhaled and blew the smoke out the window. The convent soon REEKED of ganja. We could NOT stop laughing. We were freaked out that nuns were living and praying where we were trying to get high. All we did was laugh, smoke pot and drink Scotch. I believe phone calls full of giggling were placed to various people....

I just couldn't stop laughing. I haven't been high in YEARS. At least 20 years.

I'm going straight to HELL.

I'm a bad person.

The morning of the funeral I was still high, because I was too afraid to go to sleep on the rock-like bed the nuns provided. I was afraid they'd smell the weed and throw us out into the street. So, I was still high after three hours of terrible sleep. Got to the funeral LATE (it was a long ways from the convent) and my aunt threw me into the lineup with two cousins to carry up the gifts at the funeral Mass. I didn't actually have a gift to carry up, by my aunt made me go anyway, so I hauled my sorry ass all the way up to the altar. The walk seemed really long... that was the best funeral I've been to in a loooooooong time.

Grandma, please forgive me. If you were looking down, please realize that I do miss you and did love you and only wanted the best for you during your long life. I'm sorry I was stoned in the convent and was still toasted at your funeral. 

God bless us, everyone.

Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer

Well, not really. But she did die this evening at 7:30 PM. She was 92, never learned to drive, raised 8 children and was extremely Catholic. I didn't know her very well. She was very reserved and private; not the kind of grandma you could run up to and hug. She was kind of brittle, but she was kind in her own way.

She died of a number of complications: pneumonia and heart disease among them. She'd been sliding downhill for a number of months and really didn't have a very good quality of life. I'm happy she is at peace.

I don't know when the funeral is; whether it will be Saturday or Monday or whether my crazy family will try to combine her funeral with some kind of wacky Thanksgiving celebration. That side of the family is ODD: kooky, creative, "artistic," out in left field, etc. They can't plan anything very well, so this should be interesting!

I'm going to say some lapsed Catholic-school-girl prayers for my grandmother. If anyone else reads this, please waft some good thoughts grandma Ellen's way. She lived quite a long life.

Well Shut My Mouth!

People are actually reading this? This silly mind-vomit? I shall have to spice it up. As one reader wrote, so succinctly, "If you have nothing to say, why did you start a blog?" EXCELLENT QUESTION! And from someone in Sweden. Boggles my wee mind that someone across the world from me is reading about my (non) life.

Here is one thing of note that happened.... I am in the midst of a very amicable divorce, but I am still checking out potential dates on match.com. I used to use e-Harmony, but that was just WEIRDNESS. Match is weird, too, but the caliber of guy is a bit different... sometimes they are just more blunt. But ONE GUY sent me a picture of himself, which is great, because I won't even chat with anyone who doesn't have a photo, but his photo was NUDE: FULL FRONTAL.

I didn't really believe in shrinkage until I saw that photo. Really! While I love me the male equipment, there are some things that should stay, well, in the realm of imagination. At least until the first date. LOL

So, that happened. 

Despite said photo, I'm getting into the Christmas spirit. Usually the holidays are too busy and stressful for me, but this year, since I don't have to attend any Italian stuff, it will be nice and quiet. I'll describe the Italian festivities someday. 

Today I'm just stunned to find out that some random people (and one not-so-random) are reading this. 

I will do my best to enlighten and entertain. 

And I won't save the best stuff for my journal anymore.