sitting on the living room floor
novena, evening 6 of 9.
all of my mom's friends have arrived & have claimed their usual spots around the living room. we're now waiting for the half-sibs to arrive so we can start the rosary for dad. we were supposed to start at 7pm, and my mom's nagging me to call them to make sure they're still showing up. i really don't give a crap whether or not they show up. i'm tired of them making me feel uncomfortable in my own home.
i can't believe that it's already been a week since my dad passed away. okay - is it just me, or does the phrase "passing away" just sound weird? it makes me think of football. going with this analogy, this would make God the quarterback. and somewhere in purgatory, there's a wide receiver waiting to catch the soul of the departed for a completion.
totally inappropriate, i know. i have a knack.
mom won't stop talking. her guests look hungry. i think they want to get this prayer over with so they can get fed. i don't blame them. the house smells like lumpia.
my mom just made up a new word: gunks. the sentence she just spoke (translated from ilocano to english) was, "they had a hard time getting getting the gunks out of her arteries."
i'm bored. i'd like to get this show on the road so i can commence with filling my arteries with gunks.
i bet my dad's watching down on us & he's prorably really bored too. he's proabably waiting for my mom to stop talking. he probably wants to eat some lumpia. i wish there was a way i could send some up to him.
all of my mom's friends have arrived & have claimed their usual spots around the living room. we're now waiting for the half-sibs to arrive so we can start the rosary for dad. we were supposed to start at 7pm, and my mom's nagging me to call them to make sure they're still showing up. i really don't give a crap whether or not they show up. i'm tired of them making me feel uncomfortable in my own home.
i can't believe that it's already been a week since my dad passed away. okay - is it just me, or does the phrase "passing away" just sound weird? it makes me think of football. going with this analogy, this would make God the quarterback. and somewhere in purgatory, there's a wide receiver waiting to catch the soul of the departed for a completion.
totally inappropriate, i know. i have a knack.
mom won't stop talking. her guests look hungry. i think they want to get this prayer over with so they can get fed. i don't blame them. the house smells like lumpia.
my mom just made up a new word: gunks. the sentence she just spoke (translated from ilocano to english) was, "they had a hard time getting getting the gunks out of her arteries."
i'm bored. i'd like to get this show on the road so i can commence with filling my arteries with gunks.
i bet my dad's watching down on us & he's prorably really bored too. he's proabably waiting for my mom to stop talking. he probably wants to eat some lumpia. i wish there was a way i could send some up to him.
posted by rach at 7:28 pm
2 Comments:
8:25 pm
the half-sibs never showed up. more lumpia for me. my mom's friends are sitting around burping & talking, talking & burping. somehow, i don't mind it.
You had to say the "L" word didn't you? I thought having a burrito before I left would complete my short California experience...now I'm reminded that I didn't get any lumpia. Damn.
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