I'm not dead, either. And quit emailing me threats!

[quidditchgrrl]

Hey all. *waves* So much to say, so few minutes to say it in.

First off, that thing in my stomach? Rogue muscle cells (don't ask, I have no idea how they got into my abdomen or why they've decided to set up shop and reproduce). *chants "it's not cancer, it's not cancer"* My GP (the one whose mantra seems to be 'all this is caused by obesity and diabetes') has been awfully fucking sheepish on the phone. Bastard. Will call gastroenterologist tomorrow to schedule surgery. But YAY! There's something there, it can be taken care of, I'm not a hypochondriac (which I think my GP also suspected of me).



That fucker. I love him, but he is so fucking irresponsible sometimes. For background, last January he quit all of his Masonic stuff. Everything. He was the secretary of the Lodge and Scottish Rite, the head of Commandry, Worthy Patron for OES, and Associate Patron in Amaranth. When I asked him why (and don't get me wrong, I wanted him to back off some of this stuff since it always ate all of his time up), he told me it was none of my damn business.

Okay, fine, I could live with that. My sister and I speculated about what it could be, and thought it most likely due to his girlfriend - the ex-sister-in-law of one of the muckety-mucks. Something must have been said, we thought, that pissed my dad off and he up and quit.

The emails and written stuff from our family friends told a different story. "Say hello to your dad, tell him we're praying for him", "hope your dad is doing better", "tell your dad we're thinking about him". I'm confused, since there's nothing wrong with my dad health-wise - that's what it read out to me - and I don't get why they couldn't talk to him.

Couple weeks ago I went to Grand Court (Amaranth, a fraternal order related to the Masons, for the literally uninitiated) to be Installed (Grand Marshal in the East!) and got a very weird reception. Most everyone was happy to see me, but after some small talk, they tentatively asked, "so, how's your dad?" in a I-care-but-I-don't-want-to-bring-up-an-unhappy-subject tone. Of course, I have no idea what the hell they're so upset about. Over the course of the weekend, I get some little tidbits - a woman from the Court, some 'business' with her, and my dad was 'asked to leave'.

I am not a happy camper. A couple people my family has been friends with since the beginning didn't even smile at me, so whatever my dad did, I've been tainted by blood. That pisses me off at both they and my dad. I wonder what's wrong with him sometimes. I thought all of his craziness - the drinking, the *ahem* go-go girls - was just a phase he went through after my mom died. If I've never written about the go-go-girls, please let me know. It's a good story.

But you know what? I really don't want to know. Eventually everyone will figure out that I don't know what the deal is, and leave me alone. I have nothing to tell except that my dad is still nuts as usual (he is working 3rd shift at Tim Horton's; at this point I'm thinking he's not been invited back to Dave's NAPA store to run parts because of this 'business') and that he's doing okay.



I have June 3-7 off. I had orignally planned to go to NYC *bawls* but I decided that my niece and my wedding were pretty damn important things to have money for, so I had to scrap the Big Apple trip. But, vacation! I'll be at the midnight line party at the Arena Grand Thursday night, seeing the PoA matinee on Saturday, and maybe meeting up with ishie and friend on Monday night. I am going to be PoA'd out.

But, but, but. Before I get any more email, I swear I'm gonna get something out over this next week or so. I've been getting nasty emails asking when I'm going to update [insert any of my zillion WiPs here]. *pulls hair out* So I'm gonna buckle down and get something done. *refuses to acknowledge Fred/Tonks/George plot bunny*

Random thoughts:

I thought I'd bought some of that really good port wine cheese the other day only to discover it's 'cheese food.' Um, WTF? *bins it*

I made it through my flist since I last read it! Go me.

nsmom, sorry not to hear from you. Hope your weekend went well! :)

Comments

[nmalfoy.livejournal.com]

Sorry to hear about what's going on with dad... maybe you need to hire a private investigator to figure it out?

Surgery? *wibble* Let me know when, okay? *thinks happy thoughts*

[quidditchgrrl.livejournal.com]

If only Malfoy, PI could make a house call... :)

I really don't want to know, I think it would just make me uncomfortable in the short term. So I'm blissfully ignorant.

[blue-eye.livejournal.com]

Wow...that's bad about your dad. Talk about role reversal. As for surgery, I feel abd about all your health problems. Every time I feel the need to bitch and moan about my own, I'll remember that there are others worse off than I.

[quidditchgrrl.livejournal.com]

Eh, it's not so terrible, I can still function most days. There are a lot of people who can hardly make it out of bed most mornings, or who have cancer. I'm pretty lucky that I have a good support system and health insurance.

:(

[teshara.livejournal.com]

Sorry to hear your dad's a schmuck (or at least acting like one.)
Hope you find out whats going on so you can at least have a clue as to why everyones acting funny.

Re: :(

[quidditchgrrl.livejournal.com]

He is a schmuck, full time at this point. I figure it's best that I don't know, especially if it's something embarrassing (which it probably is).

[nsmom.livejournal.com]

Hey! I'm sorry I didn't call! And I'm even more sorry you aren't going to be in NYC! I should be in Pittsburgh over Fourth of July, so I'll call then. (or I'll call before, but I'm always so weird about making phone calls!)

[quidditchgrrl.livejournal.com]

Sounds good! :)

[rachet.livejournal.com]

See ya at Arena. I'll be wearing a black t-shirt with the words "Dumbledore's Army" written acrossed it in blue. Yes....I'm going to be one of those folk that wear the t-shirt of the band they're going to go see in concert that night. :-)

[quidditchgrrl.livejournal.com]

Schweet! I'll be there in my Nimbus 2003 t-shirt, if I can get it to fit right. It says, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good" with the pawprints of the Marauders. :D

[rachet.livejournal.com]

I'll keep an eye for you!!!

SQUEEEEEE!!!! TOMORROW NIGHT!!!!!!!!