Friday Free-For-All *One Day Late*

Our ISP had some lightning damage to it 48 hours ago-not that they told us that OR bothered to return any of our calls until about 4:30 p.m. today. Thank goodness for wireless access at Gran D's house. I think I'm finally caught up on my email and favorite blogs-and it isn't even time to start a game yet. This week has been chock-full of highs and lows and I think I may be too tired to write a coherent post about any of it. I've spent the last two days painting various parts of The Agency-that's right; scraping, priming, and painting. For this, I'm getting a Master's degree. But, my hair is getting nice and blonde in all the 100 degree sun. Not to mention, I now have this odd urge to pull all the furniture out of my living room and paint it...Dave will be thrilled. Still, I think I picked the right place for my intership. And I feel a little bad about referring to the girl I work with the most as an "Elias." She's actually a lovely girl and a lot of fun-she did spend the first day we worked together asking me why I would bother with higher education at all if I was already fulfilling God's calling for me to be a wife and a mother AND if I felt my marriage would suffer now that I was making my husband take on some of my 'rightful responsibilities.' Let's face it, I'm already a little touchy about that particular subject anyway. But I guess I answered her questions all right because there have been no 'follow-ups' since then. We spent today scraping, priming, and swapping blonde jokes. In the interest of a stream-of-consciousness post, here's a couple of the better ones:

For Christy:
A police officer noticed a blonde driving with her knee while knitting with both hands. He turned on his lights and siren, but she drove on oblivious to it. Finally, he pulled alongside her and said through his megaphone "Pull Over!" In response, she shook her head, held up her knitting needles, and said "No! It's a sweater vest!"

For Me:
A police officer pulled over a blonde and asked to see her license. Angry, she replied "I wish you guys would make up your minds! How can I show it to you when one of you took it from me yesterday!"
AND
A blonde police officer pulled over another blonde and asked to see her license. The blonde said "What's a license?" The officer replied "A small rectangle your purse with your picture on it." The blonde searched her purse and finally pulled out a small mirror and handed it to the officer. The officer looked at it and said "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were an officer too."

So, life at The Agency is good. The funeral this week...harder than I thought it would be. I thought I was going to comfort my aunt and cousins. I had little idea that I would walk out of the chapel in tears myself. As a kid, I spent countless hours and Uncle Jack and Aunt Mary's house goofing off with my older cousins while the parents played Risk, Monopoly, and a few other board games. Losing my cousin Arlene seven years ago was a shock and I didn't think losing her Dad could possibly hurt any more. It did. I have written something more beautiful and profound about the funeral, but I think I'll save that post for tomorrow. Since I get through all trials in life best when I can find the humor in them, I think I'll share a few of Wednesday's better moments:

Being greeted with a big hug and a "Hi! Pretty girl" from BOTH Uncle J and Uncle B. I've loved that greeting from them since I was a little girl and, since the divorce, we don't see Uncle B anymore. I've been so mad at him for his actions in that split that I didn't realize how comforting a hug could still be. I'm glad everyone called a truce for the funeral and meant it.

While I was a little freaked out at how my Uncle Jack looked like he was just asleep in his coffin and could wake up any minute, I was also amused by the thought of how much he would have loved to play such a prank in life had he been given the opportunity. I couldn't help but smile every time I looked at the coffin and imagined such a thing happening. Oh how I will miss that man and his practical jokes!

The way Aunt Mary, who has been understandably grief-stricken since last Saturday suddenly snapped into character just before the funeral started and told us:
"I don't care who's here and who isn't. It is 2 minutes 'till 10 and we are starting the service RIGHT NOW! Everyone get lined up behind me and make sure you've got those cell phones off. Let's go!"

Seeing his Shriner fez on a chair near the coffin brought back memories of going to one of those Shrine meetings as a Rainbow Girl to present a fundraiser check to them. During the presentation, I looked out into the audience and to see if I could spot any of my family-who I knew would be there. It wasn't too hard to spot them. Uncle Jack, Grandpa, and two of my cousins-all tough looking guys- were sitting a few rows back, waving at me and mouthing "Hi Missy!" as excitedly as they could. I was both amused and embarrassed back then, but I'm so glad I have that memory now.

Seeing the lovely young woman that the little flower girl in my wedding has become. Man! I love that kid! I hear her dad is re-doing my old Sunfire for her and I'm glad. I can't think of anyone I'd rather have driving it. And you know, as much of an idiot as her dad can be with his personal life, he will make that car run like new. He's good that way.

Speaking of her dad (yes Chris and Lanie, the ex-stripper uh, I mean "exotic dancer"), I didn't know whether to choke him or hug him or both. Uncle Jack once made a joke about wanting to be buried with a biscuit at his head and feet just like the Egyptians...and I'll be doggoned if he didn't send his two oldest sons to McDonald's 20 minutes before the service started. That's right! Uncle Jack was buried with his favorite sunglasses, his cowboy boots, his Shriner fez, AND an Egg McMuffin.

Speaking (again) of that cousin, all the women in his life were in attendance at the funeral. (His current wife and both exes). All of them are wonderful women. How does he get them-even for a little while? It was fun to stand and giggle with the one I had known the longest about how she had to resist the tempatation to pinch his rear when they were all three standing around together talking-just to watch him try and figure out which of the three had done it. Don't worry, she said that she did stop herself "since it was his dad's funeral and all." Anyone who can have that conversation with me while still standing by the family burial plot is a friend of mine. Even if she is no longer married to my cousin. (And by the way, Kyle, she's single again. I was so tempted to say something about you to her...)

And speaking of that particular ex-wife, her son has turned out so much better than any of us dared hope. Even if he did use a family funeral as a place to try and pick up on someone. (Selena's SIL, and in his defense, she IS beautiful.) Mom said he was being a huge help to the family, but I thought grief had made her delusional. As it turned out, she was right. And how often do I say that about my mom? Even with my cousin as his most prominant father figure, that boy done turned out good. I'll credit his mom-but I'm biased. She's my friend. She makes jokes about butt-pinching at funerals.

And, on a more emotional note, it's been my Aunt Mary who has been the most supportive of my Museum Studies degree. (She works at a museum herself.) She figured out I was pregnant with Elisa before my mother did and told me I would still get through school just fine. She managed to raise four kids and achieve her goals and promised me then that I would too. She called me the day before I was to be induced with the same message and has fowarded all manner of supportive and/or informative museum emails from my first day in the program. I didn't expect her to even remember I had started my intership this week, but she did. She was bragging about me to her museum friends as I walked out of her house Wednesday afternoon. Any praise from Aunt Mary is considered high praise because she doesn't just hand it out easily. Praise from her on that day no less...well, I just don't have words for how much it meant to me.

And now that I've got the entire internet caught up on my life. I think I'm going to watch Big Jake tonight-in honor of the man who taught me to love all things John Wayne, and to be proud of my redneck roots no matter how much education I have. Here's to you Uncle Jack! Thanks for everything-and sorry about the Egg McMuffin. You should have been a DeMolay. They favored spray paint and public property to pay their final respects-a lot less smelly than a coffin full of fast food, for sure. Someday we'll all be together again, and you can give us hell about it. Until then, I'll be looking forward to it. Enjoy your ride into the sunset, Pilgrim.