I'd pick iced tea with my maternal grandmother, who passed away when I was in college.

Thanks, JZ. I have a good job now, so I wouldn't be counting on the Berkeley hire--it just looked like where I'm trying to move, professionally. So while I might toss a resume at it, I won't expect anything to come of it. It's nice to be able to set expectations.

Instant coffee with lots of milk and sugar in one of her fancy bone china cups with my YiaYia, preferably with Matilda and her other great-grandchildren there, as she died a few weeks before the first one was born and even though I'm sure she knows of them in whatever afterlife she's gone onto (she was such a deeply good person, I firmly believe that even if there were no God before her death triggered God's creation, just for her sake), she would light up with joy to spend real living laughing flesh-and-blood time with them.

A good bottle of wine with my ex, J., who killed himself. He has some explaining to do.

Wine is a good choice for explaining! Oddly I have an ex J that killed himself (a few years after we were exes) He was a handsome young man with too much on his plate after his dad passed at a young age and he had to take over the family business. Sad because he had a large extended family that loved and would have supported him but he was more focused on his failings.

Well, I'm admitted, and the physician's assistant is familiar with me--shes the one to whom I barfed all my social worker issues last time. I should be up for a second dose shortly.

And speaking of social workers, I'm having one paged to see if I can get the human part of this sorted out. If Dr. Goldfarb is never gong to treat me (the small, infrequent doses fail on the "treating" and the "me" part of that--he's administering drugs to my portacath--the orders were written without a doctor talking to me first, and I only got her in there because I pushed back for anti-inflammatory and anti-emetic. I knew the painkiller doses weren't going to improve once I saw his crabby face looking over the resident's shoulder), then we need to work out a way to save the three hours and the waste of medication. While getting me treatment.

I am now thinking of Milo with my paternal grandmother, Miss Di. We weren't very close--I know we talked when we visited her in the small town where she lived, but not about what. Distinct, though, is the hot cup of Milo and buttered hard-do bread that always greeted me. Anyone who knew me before age 10 knew that's how you deal with me, along with giving me access to your bookshelf and not being sad if some of it never came back.

She had a four room house, I remember--her bedroom, a guest bedroom, a living room, and a dining room/quasi kitchen. Her decor featured lots of ceramic statues of Collies and German Shepherds, as well as being my introduction to plastic fruit (which I'd bite every time, to see if anything had magically changed in the six months since we last visited. Her bathroom was across a small driveway from her house, in the same building as her real kitchen--the house itself had no electricity or running water. There was still no toilet--there was an outhouse surrounded by graves and cocoa trees. She also had huge (as big as her house) moss-covered rocks in her property, just outside her back door. And I'd also remember the full trunk we'd go back to Kingston with--jam packed with sugar cane, yams, citrus, and whatever else she'd reaped from her farm.

Okay--note left for social worker to call me. I hope this works better than the last note a month ago.

Dear Douchebag,

When parking your precious shiny black sports car one foot over into a second (and the last available) space in a parking lot to protect it from scratches, you might want to avoid backing in to do so, as that allows others to park with their driver's side door a foot from yours and crawl out the passenger side. And since I live here I'm now done driving until at least noon tomorrow.

Kisses,
Me

I hope this works better than the last note a month ago.

Me too, man.

May sympathetic people help out with the treatment today, ita.

I woke up feeling good this morning. Even went to karate. My shoulder and lungs both played nice too. Now I'm home, chilling for a bit then it is cookie time!!! I'll have the house to myself most of the weekend. K-Bug is off with the bf for the weekend and CJ is about to leave for his dad's.