September 22, 2009
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Robi…took me to dinner for my birthday, which is tomorrow (Tues). I picked her up from my mother’s house where she had been cleaning and sorting. I stood at the door saying I’d rather not come in when she said she would just be a few minutes; that she wanted to use the bathroom.
I wanted to wait in the car because my throat still is raw and I am coughing up stuff, just from having worked there two hours. Robi… gets in the front seat and I can smell the alcohol. I thought you weren’t supposed to be able to smell vodka. Nothing like a reformed drinker — I am hearing myself sound like one.
We get to the restaurant up the street where we’d gone the other night and she orders her usual: double vodka. She likes it neat but the waitress, who probably remembered her, urged: “you mean on the rocks.” Robi.. thought for a second and said, “okay, yeah.”
Actually, it went pretty well. I only got nervous at the end when her voice started going all falsetto and threatened to break into the kind of laugh you can’t stop. Apparently our younger sister urged her to get help. Personally, I don’t think she’s in that bad a place.
What I like about her is that she sees the humor in all situations. She was making fun of the scissor collection, in particular the three pairs of children’s scissors she found in the bottom drawer by my mother’s bed. Robi… suspects some sort of fetish.
I had to tell her, “With the exception of the living room, I, too, have scissors in every room.” Just not 13 pairs.
Comments (7)
happy birthday! and while scissor fetishes are new to me, i’m sure there’s a reason for 13 pair- just can’t think what it would be!
Ah Birthdays, I have noticed that mine seem to come early as time goes by like party guests who arrive while I am still getting ready ,but then being old friends it works out because they remind me they are friends first and not keeping score.Happy next year:)It seems to me anyway that my birthday always triggers reflection and it can be a challenge to steer it out of the shadows sometimes but you do,and humor is key
I myself have only four pair of scissors but one is always stashed where only I can lay hands on it When they clean out my house what will surprise the poor souls who do it are all the ingenious places I have stashed such items as good writing pens ,tape and yes scissors.
So, you are still around, cool. A scissors in every room — my you are a cut up.
Happy birthday! Mine is today. We will probably also go out and celebrate. Although I don’t like to see them coming, I’m really pleased that they keep rolling past…
You write so frankly, but it always sounds like there’s a lot more going on beneath the surface.
Happy birthday!
If you don’t think she’s in that bad a place then maybe it is just a phase due to the recent circumstances? You have good instincts as far as I can tell.
Oh man, when the old fellas from whom I bought my car went into a retirement home, they found a ridiculous amount of collections in their house. I do not think the family will be out of umbrellas for a decade or more.
Happy Birthday, Wyatt.
I do not watch much television but I have been fascinated lately with a show that profiles people who have hoarding disorders. It’s a grim fascination.
I noticed that unlike addictions to drugs and alcohol, people afflicted with a compulsion to hoard do not seem to recover from their illness.
I am not sure if 13 pairs of scissors are some sort of early warning sign.
I’m lucky. I don’t have any obsessive or compulsive behaviors. I just count things in my head because it’s fun.