Wow, Meg and I got out of Madame Guy's wake JUST IN TIME.
No, I didn't sign the guest registry as "The Offbeat Drummer." But I thought about it. Like doing that pages and pages later, after the other throng of mourners had signed the registry.
Meg and I were sitting in her car decompressing before we went in, and who should wander in but the doctor who supported my firing from Balderdash & Verities for allegedly illegally obtaining 15 anti-diarrhea pills that have such a tiny amount of narotic in them, it's moot. It just helps you stay off the toilet every 10 minutes. I didn't want to talk to him, but if I did, I planned to tell him that booting me out was the best thing that could've happened to me; otherwise, I wouldn't be in my second year of graduate school. We went in and soon thereafter, the doctor who'd retired before I was fired arrived with his wife, and THAT guy.....OMGolly, he'd tried to get me fired for like a year before I actually got the boot because I was too intelligent for him to handle. He thought me a dipshit, when I was actually (to stoke my own fire) the smartest one of the bunch.
There was some priest doing something when we got to the funeral chapel, and we didn't want to slither in, so we waited in the lobby watching this clusterfuck of people who didn't give me the time of day wandered in and signed in. When the time was right, we went in and paid our respects to Madame Guy in the Catholic manner Kate advised. I only met the 6th out 7 kids, a sister, who was greeting at the casket. She was very nice. I explained that Guy and I used to work together but were still friends. There were lots of pictures around, and I'd only seen some of them, but Guy bears a striking resemblance to his mum. Same facial bone structure. I didn't get to see the baby brother Guy always shies me away from, who's close to my age, who I perpetually tease asking if he's cuter than Guy. He can't be. I saw the pictures of Guy from little Guy until now, and he's just, to me, incredibly cute.
Meg and I waited for our turn to talk to Guy, who was standing alone. I'd placed the mass card and sympathy card in the proper receptacles, but gave Guy his special envelope, a big hug and kiss on the cheek, not giving a damn who saw us. A daughter ran by, whom I recognized, and Guy put the card in his pocket. (Meg and I joked later on as to how many cards in his pocket are from mistresses...NONE, goofs, what kind of scuz do you think he is?)
Guy, Meg and I commiserated briefly, and I checked on him, and got the scoop on who's doing what/when, but we thought it best we make a swift exit, because there had to be what seemed like hundreds of people filtering in, and I didn't want to monopolize Guy, though I felt like staying with him all night. What humored me were the landmines Meg and I kept dodging in terms of *not* running into people I didn't want to talk to, guess who at the top of that list?
Clue: They were hugging at the opposite door when Meg and I left. Lady GuyGuy and my #1 All-Time Blog Stalker/former supervisor. (She looks like hell, by the way. Lady GuyGuy just looks boring and milquetoast, as per,whereas I'd just gotten a new spike cut.) Lady GuyGuy and I were on opposite ends of the chapel the whole time, luckily. I joked with Meg this morning that I was going to address a sympathy card to Lady GuyGuy from my parakeet who's name she hates, and just sign it "Tweet, tweet, Sympathies, Nitwit." I should've. But I didn't want to overtake Guy's sorrow with sarcasm.
I got to see pictures of Lord Guy, his dad. He was this enormous creature who looked nothing like Guy, except he also had a mustache. (Come to think of it, I think Guy's had a mustache since he was like 12.) He looked like the average big Irish fella. Now it's got me wondering why the hulking creature didn't just stomp his feet on my father's chest and try to revive him when he went into arrest. Jesus, he was a big guy. He died a few years before I met Guy, and I sense they weren't the closest of people, but that's just my intuition. Guy was a mama's boy, FO SHO.
God bless Meg for being kind enough to give me a ride there and be my support system through the wake. I was trembling the whole time anyway, though felt a sense of calm once I was with Guy, like we were in our own little bubble, but I understand he had to be careful how friendly he was should eyes or ears wander.
He has to go out of town soon to settle a daughter into a new place, so I don't know when I'll see him again, but I hope we can at least have a coffee or a pass by on the way home from work before he leaves town. I don't like being a distant friend. It'd be nice to have a sanity day where we could go down to the Art Institute, but maybe that'll have to wait until winter break. Hopefully, he's not going to Germany again this Christmas. That'd break my heart.
But for now yes, it's Guy's heart that's broken, and my hope is that it mends quickly. So much estate bullshit to sort through. I don't envy the upper class in that respect.
Love and blessings to Guy, despite my cattiness:
The Offbeat Drummer
No, I didn't sign the guest registry as "The Offbeat Drummer." But I thought about it. Like doing that pages and pages later, after the other throng of mourners had signed the registry.
Meg and I were sitting in her car decompressing before we went in, and who should wander in but the doctor who supported my firing from Balderdash & Verities for allegedly illegally obtaining 15 anti-diarrhea pills that have such a tiny amount of narotic in them, it's moot. It just helps you stay off the toilet every 10 minutes. I didn't want to talk to him, but if I did, I planned to tell him that booting me out was the best thing that could've happened to me; otherwise, I wouldn't be in my second year of graduate school. We went in and soon thereafter, the doctor who'd retired before I was fired arrived with his wife, and THAT guy.....OMGolly, he'd tried to get me fired for like a year before I actually got the boot because I was too intelligent for him to handle. He thought me a dipshit, when I was actually (to stoke my own fire) the smartest one of the bunch.
There was some priest doing something when we got to the funeral chapel, and we didn't want to slither in, so we waited in the lobby watching this clusterfuck of people who didn't give me the time of day wandered in and signed in. When the time was right, we went in and paid our respects to Madame Guy in the Catholic manner Kate advised. I only met the 6th out 7 kids, a sister, who was greeting at the casket. She was very nice. I explained that Guy and I used to work together but were still friends. There were lots of pictures around, and I'd only seen some of them, but Guy bears a striking resemblance to his mum. Same facial bone structure. I didn't get to see the baby brother Guy always shies me away from, who's close to my age, who I perpetually tease asking if he's cuter than Guy. He can't be. I saw the pictures of Guy from little Guy until now, and he's just, to me, incredibly cute.
Meg and I waited for our turn to talk to Guy, who was standing alone. I'd placed the mass card and sympathy card in the proper receptacles, but gave Guy his special envelope, a big hug and kiss on the cheek, not giving a damn who saw us. A daughter ran by, whom I recognized, and Guy put the card in his pocket. (Meg and I joked later on as to how many cards in his pocket are from mistresses...NONE, goofs, what kind of scuz do you think he is?)
Guy, Meg and I commiserated briefly, and I checked on him, and got the scoop on who's doing what/when, but we thought it best we make a swift exit, because there had to be what seemed like hundreds of people filtering in, and I didn't want to monopolize Guy, though I felt like staying with him all night. What humored me were the landmines Meg and I kept dodging in terms of *not* running into people I didn't want to talk to, guess who at the top of that list?
Clue: They were hugging at the opposite door when Meg and I left. Lady GuyGuy and my #1 All-Time Blog Stalker/former supervisor. (She looks like hell, by the way. Lady GuyGuy just looks boring and milquetoast, as per,whereas I'd just gotten a new spike cut.) Lady GuyGuy and I were on opposite ends of the chapel the whole time, luckily. I joked with Meg this morning that I was going to address a sympathy card to Lady GuyGuy from my parakeet who's name she hates, and just sign it "Tweet, tweet, Sympathies, Nitwit." I should've. But I didn't want to overtake Guy's sorrow with sarcasm.
I got to see pictures of Lord Guy, his dad. He was this enormous creature who looked nothing like Guy, except he also had a mustache. (Come to think of it, I think Guy's had a mustache since he was like 12.) He looked like the average big Irish fella. Now it's got me wondering why the hulking creature didn't just stomp his feet on my father's chest and try to revive him when he went into arrest. Jesus, he was a big guy. He died a few years before I met Guy, and I sense they weren't the closest of people, but that's just my intuition. Guy was a mama's boy, FO SHO.
God bless Meg for being kind enough to give me a ride there and be my support system through the wake. I was trembling the whole time anyway, though felt a sense of calm once I was with Guy, like we were in our own little bubble, but I understand he had to be careful how friendly he was should eyes or ears wander.
He has to go out of town soon to settle a daughter into a new place, so I don't know when I'll see him again, but I hope we can at least have a coffee or a pass by on the way home from work before he leaves town. I don't like being a distant friend. It'd be nice to have a sanity day where we could go down to the Art Institute, but maybe that'll have to wait until winter break. Hopefully, he's not going to Germany again this Christmas. That'd break my heart.
But for now yes, it's Guy's heart that's broken, and my hope is that it mends quickly. So much estate bullshit to sort through. I don't envy the upper class in that respect.
Love and blessings to Guy, despite my cattiness:
The Offbeat Drummer
10 comments:
Well done for doing the right thing and making a dignified entry and exit.
Considering the best part of my job is helping folk go and meet their maker I do sit on the fence when it comes to God(in whatever name or form he has)but i respect folks beliefs as it helps them.
After having had a sneaky peak at the Funeral Directors Website out of profesional curiosity i was amazed at how much everything costs when it comes to having a funeral although that firm did seem particularly high end.
A typical funeral over here would cost about £2800 which includes everything required on the day.
Plus Britain is also falling out of love with Religion as more and more of the funerals that i look after are non religious "celebrations of life"
I have a service like that this morning which will be held in the Crematorium Chapel followed by drinks at the local freemasons lodge.
BMF, Kate's holding up as well (if not better) than can be expected. She's still witty and laughing and her usual awesome self.
Rob, I like the idea of a "celebration of life." That's what it should be, more so than a giant grieve-fest of the dead, especially put on display. Madame Guy's, uh, accommodations weren't the $12k mahogany but it wasn't a pine box either. It was very nice. But God, the flowers! Please, publicly, Luke, don't let people send a ton of flowers to my memorial service....they're such a waste of money! I'm all for a memorial service at like an art gallery or something, or another fun place, followed by lunch, music and drinks. Just not at a freemasons' lodge. Those dudes creep me the fuck out.
I'm STILL trying to get the image of Lady GuyGuy out of my mind hugging Arlene. "Is that Annie talking to Guy?" they must have wondered. Yes, yes it is.
Glad to hear a very difficult experience went well.
Freeemasons "creep you out"? Annie, if only you knew my full background you would faint dead away.
~Miss Thang II
A Masonic Family member since 1969
My mom's paternal grandparents were Masons, and all I've grown up with are creepy stories shrouded in mystery & strange symbolism. The Lutheran church looks upon them as a type of occult organization. My great grandma was in Eastern Star and all too. We all just find it kind of spooky.
You've been on my mind all day, Kate, wondering what's going on and how you're doing. I've felt all day that today was particularly bad for you,so I wish you God's peace.
I kinda doubt Lady GuyGuy's been diving on anything for many years.
I STILL have to get through War and Peace." Too bad I bought a paperback version thats 2000 pages in tiny print.
I am eternally grateful that Meg was by my side yesterday. I'd hve fallen apart by then. I was luky to catch Guy when I did, and I'm sure he's worn out after today's funeral.
Check your FB messages, loved ones. Received a very unwelcome text today which kind of coincides with Kathe's theory! Just out of the thin air, though they were embraced when I left...
All I'll say about the text is it'd be easier to whack me with a baseball bat in an an alley.
Love to all and thanks for the prayers.
Seriously, to wake me from a dead sleep at 4:45 am to threaten my friends because Kate said something mean about Miss Blog Stalker? Trying to block IP's in the middle of the night when I should be sleeping is a pain in the butt. Just like her. Well, now the office can't access the blog so she'll have to get her information covertly elsewhere. It'd be a lot more fun if the offended parties were leaving comments we could all gang up on, but that's kind of junior high.
Anyways, i don't think she's got a special friendship with the mizzuz, i think if she did, Arlene would love you getting Guy out of the way. No, no, instead, i think a Chicago rat has crawled up at least one of Arlene's orifices. Or, Arlene has a shrine to the Offbeat Drummer somewhere in her house?
I'm halfway across the world and I still get notifications! I think it's like Thursday here and Tuesday at home....I've lost track.
This is all so juvenile. Not necessarily on Annie's end, though she has a good point about junior high.
Annie, we've been through this 100 times with Arlene. She's more juvenile and immature than you are. And in all fairness, she WAS stalking your blog, then you blocked her, now he has a spy, who you're trying to figure out. Once it all washes off, you can release the office block so Guy can read you if he wants at work. You know, back to your regularly scheduled programming.
I don't support Kate's hypothesis, but it's funny. Chances are higher she's hot for Guy, though I can't imagine, though you are, so anything's possible.
Rest easy, honey, that you did the right thing at the wake, you were a proper lady and you weren't there to socialize with people you used to work with, who are all jealous of you and your success, while they're stuck in go-nowhere jobs (the docs notwithstanding). Focus on what's important--school, Luke's confirmation, your friends, Guy...it'll all be ok. This tornado won't last long.
If it does, send the log to the head doc about violating the "no personal internet" policy. Tsk tsk. Wrist slap!
NEVER forget, you hold ALL the cards here. You're the published writer. You're the one with like 60k people following you. She's got nothing but a bruised ego.
Also, her text speak needs a LOT of work to decipher. Even for casual text speak. She sounds like an intelligence-challenged child when she writes to you. Thanks for the transcript--I cracked up.
Babe, "Kilroy Way Here" marked the end end of Styx's finer days. No, we're not doing "Mr. Roboto" at our shows.
I need Rob or my buddy to weigh in so I don't look like the only d'bag angry male in Annie's corner.
Love you! Talk to you today or tomorrow or the next day, whenever day it is. Fret not, Little Soldier. You have all the power--even Ms. BS goes & says she'll expose you & all your shenanigans to Lady Guy Guy.....I'm sure you're iike, "GO RIGHT AHEAD!"
Read your PM and Meeowww!! you would need an infinite amount of saucers of milk to soak up all that cattiness that was aimed in your direction!Her text speak would make a British teenager seem well read. Liking Kates theory that they are Rug-munchers but i think its more likely she has a sweet spot for guy!
I just talked to Meg and even she thinks it's really, really shitty of Ms. BS to invite me out to lunch with her ginormous angry henchwoman under a friendly auspice when they planned to beat me to a pulp either physically or verbally.
I mean, I should blog the transcript, because it was SO SO SO bad, it was FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC. Better than anything SO bad I could conjure up myself. WHO communicates that poorly?
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