|This isn't the quilt... It's A quilt, just not mine...|
Trying to put to words what I've been going through is like... well... pooping after winning a cheese eating competition. You know it's gotta get out, you know it wants to get out but it's all blocked up.
I hate transitions.
Especially when what you're transitioning towards is unknown. Or, I should say... when what I'm transitioning towards is unknown to me.
Saturday we took possession of our boat and immediately moved into it.
Oh, before I talk about that, I REALLY REALLY REALLY need to share this story with you about my quilt. I love my quilts. I own three. All hand made with love by my lovely mother. Two of the three quilts are quietly and innocently waiting my return at the shop apartment (where I need to go to get my shit). The other one was temporarily left in storage in the care of my lovely mother, whom I love with all my heart.
Don't worry, this fucking quilt and our moving into the boat is very linked. Expensively so.
I emailed my mother dearest asking her if it would be possible for her to have the quilt shipped to a friend's of ours who lives close to the yacht club where the boat is currently docked. (sorry for that lengthy sentence, take a breath now) You know, one of those "hey check and see if it's possible, if not no biggie we'll see what other options we have."
The next thing I know is... "OK, it's done, you owe me $189, and you'll have it by Thursday!" My heart stopped. Yeah, it literally stopped. Like skipped a few beats. Of course, this was so I didn't need to run out and BUY a freakin' blanket on account of the unemployedidness of my current status. My heart skipped a beat for one-hundred-and-eighty-nine seconds. One second per dollar in case you can't count that high.
I ignored the email. Relying on my very mature way of approaching problems: ignore it and it will go away, I continued to enjoy my day in wonderful Orange County - home of La-La-Land of Miss Nikki's Wonderful World of Denial! (Oh yeah, THAT is what Orange County California is ALL about, la la la la la la la la!)
Five hours or so later) I wasn't counting, that's all part of the joys of denial (my official middle name, you see I am in reality Miss Denial Nikki) my mom calls me. Mommy Dearest is on the phone, calling me. Beads of sweat drip down. Oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god-what-do-i-do-what-do-i-say??? You see, I don't want to hurt (ring-ring) her feelings, as she was only (ring-ring) trying to do her best for (ring-ring) me and help me out! (ring-ring).
queen of denial: Hello?
mommy dearest: Hi sweetie!
queen of denial: Oh hi! How are you?
mommy dearest: Did you get my email?
queen of denial: Uh no, we've been running around all day getting stuff ready for the boat!
mommy dearest: Oh, I thought your new phone got emails?
queen of denial: Uh, yes, but... you know me, busy busy and I didn't get a chance to check my emails yet! (Of course this is a big fat lie and she knows it, I'm so freakin addicted to my emails, I'm still searching a way to have them usb'd to my brain directly)
mommy dearest: Oh, ok, well, the quilt will be there but it was a bit expensive!
queen of denial: Really? How much? (now Booby is trying to look at me as he's driving, California drivers are aggressive...)
mommy dearest: Well, I'll cover $100 of it for your Christmas present, but it cost a bit more than that, so I'll just take $89 out of your account. They charged me $10 for insurance because I asked them to cover the real value of the quilt!
RED LIGHT! BEEP-BEEP-BEEP RED-RED-RED! My mother values herself as a Louvres artist when it comes to her quilts. Don't get me wrong, they're awesome, and hand stitched and shit, but... my naive 74 year old mother sent a BLANKET with a declared amount of god-knows-what from Canada to the US... Remember how my heart had skipped a few beats earlier?
Now I'm pulling out the car lighter and jabbing it against my chest looking for electrical current.
Holy fuck this story is getting long... Sorry, hope it's worth it for you!
Back to the conversation:
queen of denial under cigarette lighter burns: Uh... well... uhm... that's ok, no problem! You did your best, and now I'll have it in time! Wonderful!
mommy dearest: OK, anyways, like I said, I'll pay for part of it, as your Christmas gift since I know money is tight right now for you, being you don't have a job and stuff... Well... Merry Christmas! I love you! (I think she's catching on to the general idea here...)
queen of denial under cigarette lighter burns: Yeah, you too mom, I love you and thanks for everything! Oops, gotta go Booby needs directions, we're turning in circles, ok bye!
Click. I hung up. Fast.
3 days later, the friend who received the quilt called me. "UPS came by. Did you know they had a brokerage fee?" Where's that cigarette lighter when I need it? "Yeah, they charged me $68!"
Merry Christmas to all the Mommy Dearest's out there...