Oh, the places you don't know you'll go

This weekend was a doozy. Saturday snowballed into a gigantic clusterfuck. We got all our Christmas shopping done in about 3 hours (most of that time spent commuting to and from downtown) so I thought we were on a roll. Until night came and with it a spousal spat so unnerving I decided to pick up some milk we needed right then and there so I could diffuse. We needed some time apart to recompose and come back to more level headedness and indoor voices. On my way there I got a phone call from a friend which led me to sit in my car in the parking lot of Fry's for half an hour pretty much bawling. I became a snot filled mess. I was having "a moment", if you will. I just couldn't freaking stop.

As Dane Cook (who isn't even my favorite comedian) would say-


When I cry my nose runs non-stop, my eyes swell like I've come down with a shellfish allergy and my lips puff up into this pathetic Angelina Jolie imitation. So it was safe to say I walked into Fry's Food and Drug looking a little off to the staff. Something about my sudden presence in the wine section looking like a defeated boxer made all adjacent shoppers look at me with this pity that was palpable. The conveyor belt pushed my sadfuck treats (ice cream sandwiches and pinot grigio, and our milk/excuse to leave an arguement) closer to the cashier and the bagger double bagged my milk (something NOBODY ever does, but it really comes in handy when you live on the second story set of apartments) and smiled at me and I swear I wanted to open mouth kiss this kid. It was the kindest thing I had encountered all day and I wanted to cry more because of it.

When I got home the fight had diffused. We talked and I drank two glasses of wine and watched Breaking Bad.

Sunday my mom called me and said my uncle isn't doing too well. He had a stroke over the last couple years that left him in a wheelchair and stole the wind from his sails. This man was one of my favorite people in the world. He was endlessly funny and when I was depressed I'd read these old letters he wrote my mom when he moved out of their parent's house and I'd find myself laughing until it hurt. Even my friends at school were soon throwing "Uncle Mike-isms" into our jokes and conversations. He still made me laugh after the stroke but something was off. Something in him was taken away and that killed me and a lot of my family. I haven't seen him since I got married May of '09 and before that I hadn't seen him in years. And now, there's the prospect of me not seeing him ever again. A little bit of laughter gone from my life, my family, permanently.

Sunday night my aunt-in-law and grandmother-in-law had us over for dinner and it felt normal and I even enjoyed it, but inside I knew my heart was all over the place. Upset, hurt, trying to find the positive and failing.

Sometimes change happens too fast, sometimes too painful. But I hope that it's for the best, I hope that I can find the open doors after the others close. I'll leave the light on.