Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Crazy end to July

The funeral was horrifying.  After taps played and ten minutes of sobs while the flag was presented to the wife it began. My CFO spoke, the wife of 30 years sobbed her way through her eulogy and then there was a family friend reading a heartbreaking letter his brother sent and crying with heart thick sobs.  Needless to say the 18 year old son got up and tried to keep from crying while saying good things about his dad.  Last call brought up my boss' brother who had no canned talk but raw emotions.  That was all done in 45 minutes inside a packed room with my boss' remains - or cremains I gather since I doubt they had an ice bucket up front - then we left. 

Cut to Saturday.  It was really hot but I still worked my way through some yard work and laundry.  Well, until the fire started at a nearby and made a hell of a mess.

From there it only got worse.

And at the end there were tons of firemen running around trying to prevent it from spreading.

If you look closely you can see the firemen on the outside hammering on doors.

In the end there was sadly one perished homeowner and a few injured firemen.

The sunset was haunting that night.

Weird how it looked like the fire in an oddly lit way.
July definitely wasn't the usual humid storm riddled mess but instead something more horrific.  At times it is overwhelming how many things have happened lately.  But still I go on.  Hug those you love.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Friday with a twist

The Sahara Dust is still blowing across the Atlantic shading the skies with an amber glow that at time appears surreal and other times spooky. 

As some of you may have heard/read life has been challenging lately for me in the health news of friends and family.  My Uncle passed away and his memorial ceremony will be August 11th.  I won't have time to fly back for it due to time and finances but I did get to catch up with my cousin last weekend so we had some fun moments.  When my plane landed in Monday I had a voicemail from my lead asking me to call her at work, home or on her cell as soon as I could.  She added the kicker, 'Its not about you'.  I took that to mean someone was fired or quit over filling my job for a mere three working days (it has happened before).  Instead I was informed that our department Director died.

He was only 54 years old.  Granted he'd been looking gray lately but that wasn't unusual given the stress level of the job.  He and I have been working on all the new acquisitions around the country and getting along better than we had.  He was finally getting to appreciate my work ethic and how I was organized.  He'd seek me out in my cube farm and ask questions.  That wasn't his usual manner but historically he'd call my supervisor and pass on whatever he wanted to say.  He also was the only one that knew what was coming up.  I still haven't a clue.  His funeral is today.  We are all pretty much expected to go and it's a political move since our CFO will be giving one of the eulogies. 

While I was gone one of my friends who lives here had a heart attack and was operated on and had a triple by-pass.  He used to be a football player I knew from college.  He is alive but there is concern about his general well being.  He just finished winning a lawsuit from a local chain store that accosted him and accused him of stealing meat.  They roughed him up and half stripped him in public to discover he had a large tumor.  That he is also African American added into the profiling and the verbal and physical abuse.  I think he may have 'celebrated' his financial win a little too much and pushed his heart into overdrive. 

My cousin's husband who 'beat' leukemia twelve years ago now has something in his lymph nodes which doesn't look good.  Found that out at the luau last weekend.  She said he's undergoing more tests but they aren't overly hopeful.

So all this is why I haven't been posting much.  One good thing was a got a nice shot of clouds from the plane without any power lines (another complaint from a different cousin)

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Dates and Times

A couple dozen or so years ago on this date I was once walking down the aisle in a handmade silk wedding dress.  The day before it had poured rain and I remember my white satin high heels getting stuck in the lawn when I went to the champagne tower my dad had constructed for me and my groom.  In the background a small band played whimsical music with nearly a medieval sound - the poor musicians were dressed in satin and plush felt costumes like Ren-Faire people.  I got lightly sunburnt even through the mesh and lace top on my dress because it was brilliantly hot and sunny.  There were sad bits during the day - the passing of a dear friend was told to me half way through the reception and I burst out in tears because I hadn't realized she was that sick.  More than a few of my friends ended up drunk and passed out under trees in the yard.  I thought I was all grown up and ready to face a new chapter of my life. 

Funny what one thinks.

I find myself looking back to the younger me at times and wanting to scream warnings.  Other times I laugh at my arrogance and stupidity.  Memories of the joys and the heartbreak entwine during my self-absorbed analysis of bits and pieces of life.

Life has a funny way of doing what it wants regardless of my stray wishes. 

Monday, July 16, 2012

Sorrowful weekend

My family had the passing of one of my absolute favorite folks.  My Uncle Pete who has had Alzheimers for the past decade broke his hip six or seven weeks ago and was healing okay up until two weeks ago.  Then he had some digestive issues and stopped eating.  From there it was just time ticking until he stopped.  He went through the Korean war.  During which he'd been talked into the 'intelligence' side of the war and was captured and tortured.  Healing for him took him out to the Anzo-Borrego Desert for a number of years.  He was my mom's friend from the time she was 18 or 19...hence "uncle" in name and heart not blood.  He carried me home from the hospital and nicknamed me Lady.  I was called that for years.  When my older brother and I were young my mom would want to escape the Los Angeles grind and her two smaller children.  We'd drive out to the desert and visit Uncle Pete. 

Years later I found out he was suffering some traumas from the war and we kids pulled him home.  He used to walk us towards the mountains in the early morning hours and we never made it (the desert is huge and the mountains always looked much closer than they were).  Took us up to Palm Springs to play in the snow...in the summer.  I remember riding in the gondola as it went up and loving it.  I was maybe five or six years old.  Always felt safe with him.  He married my mom's best friend further cementing the links.

In high school I was offered jobs from careers with alphabets for names (think about it) and he told me he'd block any and all attempts for me to head into those jobs.  He did.  Thus a writer was born.  Still he would talk to my older brother and I about slices of his life - stuff most folks don't share.  Both my older brother and I were offered more jobs in those alphabet fields and he wanted us to know the real versus the made-for-TV special.  We both skipped it but still ended up in jobs at time where we had to have clearances.  To this day I wonder how the officials handled our background checks. 

He will be always missed and always in my heart.

Friday, July 13, 2012

Crazy Lazy Dayz

Time folds in on itself without any interference from me. Working with specific time frames intensify the effect.  I can't believe it's nearly half way through July.  I could've sworn it was just November and I was doing NaNoWriMo. 

Haven't blogged much lately because the crazy part is how much work I am doing.  I am the 'face' of an entire new purchase of towers in April.  I am the 'go to' person who hasn't got a clue at times where I am heading.  Because of this I tend to hit the ground sputtering and printing out explanations.  'No, we really don't need to charge back $12,000 to the old company because the bank bounced stuff - it will screw up the works.' Said nicely and naively as if I am hesitant because I'm talking with one of the main directors five levels above my pay grade.  I go back to consult him on something a bit later and he parrots back what I told him as if it was his 'thought'.  Such is the life of the busy little drone bees. 

The lazy part has been my weekends.  Since my laptop still isn't fixed I am getting out and swimming and reading in the sunny afternoons.  Mornings usually are the laundry/shopping/general mucking around the house stuff but by one or two a few of my friends have been showing up with appetizers, bottles of wine and tales.  Some I read to them and others they are telling me about the latest bits of their lives.  The summer is half over and I am amazed at how it detoured completely off the track.

Still catching up with my writing schedule.  Not having my laptop at home is making me structure my writing time more than I am used to but I have had some fun ideas I've been working into The Complex. 

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Eve of memories

For me certain holidays have memories that I never erase.  They become layered over time with newer images and thoughts like a double exposed piece of film.  Back when I used a dark room with family and friends I became somewhat fixated on the process of deliberately double exposing a piece of films to cause specific effects.  The ghostly images of people crossed with scenery or stark emptiness colored in various shades of gray captured my mind. 

That is how my thoughts are near holidays.  Driving through the desert on the way to Reno with my family and in the distance all the fireworks.  We drove into towns that littered the way that were completely deserted as if the occupants had all be snatched up.  The music in the distance wherever the town was gave off a feeling that everyone had gone.  Those images forever haunting the holiday for me.  The writer mind already spinning the magical thought, "What if...."

Massive firework display in the sky overhead while a band played fusion jazz on the stage.  My friend and I wandering amidst the scattered picnic blankets and people quaffing wine while softly talking.  The back drop of the ocean and the wind picking up the scents of briny deep mingling with coconut oil, clove cigarettes and Taboo perfume.  Then the heavier percussion of the fireworks as the wind shifted and the scent of burning.  A misfire by the pyrotechnic 'experts' and suddenly the lovely evening was interrupted with screams and hysteria as it began literally raining fire.  My heart racing as my friend and tried to make it back to her car while avoiding stampeding people and bits of red embers. 

Sitting on the edge of a canyon overlooking the fairgrounds in pitch black.  Swatting lazily at mosquitoes that nibbled at me.  The aroma of Off that wasn't working along with the local chaparral odor.  A thick scent of pine, manzanita and odd bits and pieces of brush that drifted up from the canyon floor.  Sitting on the sandstone cliff with my feet hanging off into the nothingness that was below.  Bursting lights a mile or so away at eye level.  A brush of a hand over mine - a friend?  An unknown male trying to catch my attention while I gazed with flutters in my stomach wondering who was he?  Did he live here?  Yet, I was too shy to talk and just took the casual hand trailing gently down my arm in the dark. 

Walking over to a friend's house and going up nearly to the top of the building to watch the pier light up with bursts of light.  Oohing and ahhing in time laughing while the sky is lit up with red, blue and purple always ending with the traditional red, white and blue no matter how long the show lasts.  Seeing the boats in the water of the Atlantic having an ocean view of the display.  Knowing now one of the faces in the crowd I used to share the balcony with is no longer alive.

So goes the layering of my memories of the 4th.