I feel like there might have been a couple of games at my shower, because my grandmother threw it, but they must not have been traumatic because I don't remember them. And because my grandmother was not that kind of person.

There were totally games at my shower, which was held completely against my will, hello, eloping, the whole point is to not have to do all that kind of shit.

But it ended up awesome, because there was an old dude from my church who loved me a bunch who had no idea that it was generally supposed to be women, and he came, so all the stupid girly stuff got thrown out because the people doing the shower weren't idiots.

So a bulky roll is just a bigger one?

Sparky, tons of ~ma for your sister and brother-in-law.

So a bulky roll is just a bigger one?

Yes.

We're having Father's day brunch this year again, and I am apparently a control freak. I hate asking people to bring things because I want things just so. I e-mailed someone about bringing finger rolls and she agreed to bring bulky rolls. I don't want bulky rolls. Why, yes I am completely insane, why do you ask?

I decided a long time ago not to ever have potlucks at my house after a couple of disasters where people in charge of bringing crucial items flaked. I can't deal with the unpredictability. I am also kind of weird in that I don't like serving things (such as chips or dips) in their store containers or bags, so... Yeah. My parties are expensive to throw because I supply everything, but I have a blast and usually have leftovers (that I like) for a week afterwards. So, I feel you in the control-freakness aspect, but nobody gets hurt and it's all good.

My parties

Are wonderful. And relaxing and a delight to attend. End stop.

Niecephews adorable. Gosh, twins are exhausting.

So this is my life, and I don't know why I continue to be surprised when this happens:

My bridal shower is today, in less than 2 hours, in one part of town.

Dad called and left a message at 8:30 (I was asleep, duh) saying that he "didn't feel right" and got sent home from work yesterday because he kept forgetting what he was supposed to do, so he was calling the ambulance and going to the hospital, in the total opposite part of town.

Dad's not answering his cell phone, which I understand, but he ALSO has no idea how to retrieve voice mail messages from it, so there's no point in leaving a message.

I am 100% willing to run to the hospital right now if he's in critical condition. And if he's not, I'm 100% willing to go to the hospital right after the shower.

But I can't fucking get ahold of him to find out. So I don't even know what to do. I have to leave in a little over an hour, so I have to get in the shower right now. And wittering on about, oh my bridal shower! Oh, my special day! Oh, I need to get ready for it! makes me feel like the absolute worst horrible dick daughter on the planet.

Yay.

Augh, Steph. Can you call the hospital?

Also, you are not the worst daughter on the planet. You're a wonderful daughter with lots of crazy stuff going on at the same time.

Okay, he answered the cell phone, and he sounds to me like he normally sounds when he's taken too many painkillers -- really slow speech and kind of addled and repeating things. I can't actually tell how he is. I don't think he's in critical condition right now, but what if I'm wrong?