Hola, comrades! It's been too long. Long story short: Rhode Island was sort of miserable, my job was miserable, and I was miserable. Jeff and I (yes, still together, and engaged, yay!) had friends back home in New Hampshire who could use some roommates, so we basically quit our jobs/got fired and in a matter of like a day moved all our shit back up here. He quickly found a job, and I'm still trying. Interviews here and there but nothing's taken, it sucks. Whatever. Good things have happened before, they'll happen again. Just gotta push through the crapfest, right?
2013 was a really crappy year, and when I look back at it now I try to make some of it funny. Like when my grandmother died the day before Easter after being in the hospital for about a month straight, getting better and then getting worse, then getting better and then getting WAY WORSE, and then getting better! And then she died. Like, Friday night when my mom left the hospital, she said "She might just pull through this" and at 10AM Saturday morning I got the "she's gone" text. Her doctors were shocked, because most people don't boomerang that much and still come out of it okay. And, yeah, she didn't come out of it okay, but if she HAD, she probably could have ended up in some low-brow medical journal. That's how resilient that old woman was.
In her lifetime, my grandmother survived a shitton of really fucked up shit. Her entire arm being sliced open and her artery exposed, a few plagues probably, tons of viruses that should have killed her, two childbirths in the 70s, many a beating from really shitty abusive men, the death of her husband, a severe bowel obstruction, FIVE! heart attacks, a triple bypass, CO2 poisoning over the course of 8 months, and then whatever it was that landed her in the hospital for the last time and eventually killed her.
Like, whatever plans God (or whoever) had for her, I hope she actually accomplished them because holy shit. What if she didn't? Or what if God never had any plans for her and she just kept surviving this shit on accident and he was up there like "Seriously, June, what the fuck? How many things do I have to throw at you before you finally kick the bucket? You were born in the 40's, and you lived through the whole 'lead water' thing, and that was fine, but seriously. Heart attacks, PLURAL? MAJOR HEART SURGERY? NURSING HOMES? This is what you live through? Fine, whatever. Fuck it. I give up. I'm not in charge of trying to kill you anymore. You're never gonna die anyway." And then as soon as he gave up trying to kill her she died.
...I hope God doesn't read my blog, because he probably wouldn't be happy that I gave him a pottymouth.
Anyway, it's probably good that my grandmother was so resilient, because it means maybe I have okay genes? Like, a ton of things are going to try to kill me in my life, and hopefully they don't succeed. And if they do, you guys know why: Because my grandmother pissed off God so bad that he gave up trying to kill my family, which means we're all going to die horrible, painful deaths.
In all seriousness, though, I miss her a lot, and I'm really sad she's gone and March 30th every year is going to be hard on me for probably the rest of my life. But, hey. At least she's pissing off God directly.