Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Awful or Awesome, Pop Quiz, Extreme Edition, by Allison

So, my recent six weeks or so has been a very widely-veering series of experiences that were either Super Fantastic Awesome or You Have Got To Be Kidding Me Awful.

For the easiest quiz in the known world, I present the following:

Awful or Awesome?:

1. Stupid yuk dentist-surgery type thing being lame and painful and unfun and RUINING my planned five concert week of fun music with Matt and friends:

Answer: Awful.

Like, capital A awful. I do not like to be in pain, physically or emotionally.

(Note: Missing all those excellent shows HURT. Matt took time off from the hospital! I love those bands! Was going to see fun friends too! Instead, the total opposite involving NO concerts, NO fun friends)

And as aperitif of Awful, having to bicker during prep for yuk surgery type stuff that the music piped in was offending me, both as a music freak and a person about to be messed with surgically.
Because I do not lie, “Cuts Like A Knife?” , “Hurts So Good,” “Hit Me With Your Best Shot”, “Wanted: Dead or Alive” and a Meatloaf song that was not gore involving but I do not care for his theatrics?

While removing the non-working laughing gas mask (more on that in a minute) I politely (ish) pointed out that pain songs were a bit of overkill in this situation, and please can I have my iPod back, this is horrible pre-yuk stuff music PLUS, this laughing gas is not working.

I know it is not working, I am not laughing at all, and the thing going on involving harvesting is NOT fun adventure in autumn with crisp leaves.
I would like my iPod and working meds now.

Apparently, my approach of music complaints and drug seeking was not working, and as I write this, it sounds WAY worse, I was only asking for them to turn the laughing gas tank on.
It was not on, as I was not laughing, giggling, festive in any way.

Also the music was pointedly poor form.

And FINALLY, after they got sick of me complaining about music (Note: that is not all that rare of an thing, I know) and telling them to turn the wheel on the laughing gas tank or push a switch or whatever, the technician goes, “Huh, you’re right. This wasn’t even on.”


So Matt gets report in waiting room that his wife is bitching about the music and asking for pain meds. I am sure his response was, “Yes, that sounds about right.”
So, Awful.

2. Friends write notes, help with things I am missing at school, send music posters from missed show (Is awesome poster and am starting new wall), Starbucks cards, and even most coolest gym and music friend Paul tracks down as best he can all the bands I was missing, leading to me getting message from Civil Twilight, wishing me well!!!!!!
Answer: Awesome.

Like, capital A Awesome.
Because friends are awesome, and kindness is awesome, and friend cheering me up via band well wishes????????

All Awesome.

And PS : Civil Twilight was awesome even before this, am fan, have seen them twice (once at small venue, once at giant music festival, they are fab, I had decided this before they were so cool as to contact me and send get well soons) and as I am lunatic personal PR and publicity person for things I Decide Are Awesome, I give huge Awesomes to Civil Twilight, observe: I die for gorgeous, haunting “Letters From The Sky”:
And finale rocker “Fire Escape”:
3. Friend who sweetly, 100 percent solidly guardian angel drives me to appointmentsand brings tea and in general, could give Master Class in How To Be Gracious Supportive Friend.
Answer: Obviously, Awesome.
And I am taking notes, from everybody who has been Awesome, to show my girls how real kindness impacts you, and for me to learn how I can be better friend/person/less of a brat.
4. Bad dog’s crimes against our hardwood floors and rugs are examined by me since I am home and not running around as much. Crimes are total canine felonies.
Answer: Awful.
And People Of The World Hear This: Do Not Let Your Husband Hand You Giant Cup Of Wine At School Auction And Then Agree To Get The Puppy The Second Time.
First time was fine, he is a good dog. But I knew better, don't get the second dog.
And in my (pitiful) defense, lies were told about her breed being non-shedding and smart and easy to train. All of those things have proven to be total and complete falsehoods and as a result, bad dog has wrecked stuff that I would like to have un-wrecked.
5. Matt volunteers to live in chaos while floors are redone and rugs sent off, all our furniture in our kitchen or porch, has to fashion plank to walk from stairs to kitchen and not mess up anything. My parents take my daughters to the beach for bonding time/tradition/enjoyment all around since the girls love going there and seeing my parents.
Matt then arranges for me to go to a spa in Arizona for this time, to spa and chill and read and do Pilates.
Answer: Extra Super Total Awesome.
And FYI, Sanctuary at Camelback Mountain is crazy fab. Little casitas with flowers winding up the walls, chaises at windows to sit and read, giant carafes of green tea, cool Pilates instructors, also spa! Is heaven.
I would like to return there immediately, because:
6. Floors not finished.
Dudes not in any way concerned about delayed deadlines, dogs stuck in basement, children and me now here as well walking plank to kitchen full of all our furniture, overall big old mess.
But wait!
That’s no big deal, I am all Zen from spa trip of glorious loveliness, happy to see Matt and the girls, house is being improved.
But wait!
This morning, Early Bird E walks into guest bath and says “Why is it flooded?” at same time as Matt, dressed for work, goes into kitchen and says “Oh, noooooo.”
Because somehow the guest bath toilet both overflowed (overflew?) and handle stuck, so kept running, leading to flooding bathroom, which is not the worst EXCEPT it floods down straight to the kitchen, through the fancy light fixture thing Matt loves, onto ALL OUR FURNITURE that is piled into kitchen because floors aren’t done.
Antiques we love.
All our stuff.
Things floating along, like little duckies, little duckies of EVIL.
Plank becomes moat. Not enough towels in the world.
Answer: Awful.
Awful times a trillion majillion extra infinity times two.
Spa Zen starts to turn into the opposite of that.
No rewind button that I can find, to fix the water pouring down onto ALL OUR STUFF.
So I am doing cross-my-fingers that some stuff dries out without being ruined.
Resigning myself to more work having to be done on ceiling and light fixture and please not a whole lot more.
And looking for silver lining, and there are plenty: friends, kids, nobody is making me listen to pain music, I can focus on that.
While I hide upstairs so I don’t have to look at Apocolypse Now.
It can be debated whether my avoidant behavior is Awful or Awesome.
I don’t care right this minute.