Grumpsters

I feel a bit grumpy this morning. I've been to the malls way too many times in the past few days fine-tuning Christmas presents for the family. My family's Christmas celebration is up in the air since the shingles outbreak. See, the big surprise that was to be revealed on Sunday is that my sister is pregnant (I'm really excited!! First niece/nephew for me!!). The problem is that we're not sure if my newly pregnant sister can be exposed to the shingles. Her doctor is doing some type of testing (I could explain, but it would take too long) to determine if she can be around the shingles. If he says no, then she won't be able to see my parents for Christmas--which would really dampen the holiday spirit. So we've got this really happy woo-hoo news alongside potentially sad news. On the up side, my dad is recovering and the shingles rash appears to be fading. I think they caught the illness early (cases can last several months to a year).

See that silvery thing in the not-so-flattering picture of my mouth? That is the temporary crown the dentist put in on Tuesday. The nice tooth-colored temporary crown popped out while I was flossing (good case for not flossing). I am scheduled to be fitted for a permanent crown next month at the cost of $900. YIKES, FUCK IT! Nope, I have no dental insurance (nor health insurance, knock on wood kids!!) So, since I can't live with the idea of spending $900 on anything other than a new sofa, plane tickets to Buenos Aires, or a mad-cap shopping spree (the last two only in my dreams), I'm looking to Ciudad Juarez to fulfill my dental needs.

There are plenty of people who cross the border (both of them) to see doctors, dentists, and get prescriptions (although the last one is illegal). Earlier this year, I thought about getting the root canal done there. I would have saved soooo much money, however, I have an enormous fear of dentists who speak English, let alone any who speak Spanish. This time, it is just a matter of making a mold, fitting the crown, and making sure it is even with the other teeth. There should be no needles or drilling involved. I could do it, right? Just mix up some plaster of paris and wa-la! a crown. Well, I can't, but I'm pretty darn sure a competent dentist in Juarez can. No need to worry, right?

I had a post ready discussing how my parents are showing signs of their early-advanced age (what are the early 60's considered? Twilight years?). Then my mom called last night to notify me that my dad has shingles! Shingles?! What the hell? Seemed to come out of nowhere. My sister and I planned a nice brunch for my mom's birthday today, then everybody was coming over to my place to see the Christmas tree, have cake, there was even a big surprise (from my sister, not me). But with shingles--the plan's thrown out the window. I feel bad complaining about how the padres are acting all old. So here's a picture of a super-pissed Filomena who doesn't like her little hoodie one bit.

I'm all Done!

Exams graded, final grades tallied and posted. Nothing feels sweeter than the end of a semester. Now I've got time for blogging and reading and decorating and organizing. Oh, yes, and sleeping. And I can't forget (although I try to) exercising.

Here's a long overdue meme on Books:

Book that Changed Your Life: This question is tough because so many books along the way have made an impact on me. My choice is The Babysitter's Club, a formulaic series for young girls akin to Nancy Drew. I loved this series in the same way as other girls loved their Sweet Valley High. I literally devoured these books as soon as they were available in the library or my parents gave in to my begging and bought them. They got me hooked on reading, a sort of gateway drug. Eventually, I got bored with the crappy plots and moved on to the classics, like Pride and Prejudice (one of my all-time favorites). The Babysitter's Club books changed my life because they made me the type of reader who will put everything down to finish a book, but also in staying the same, I moved on to bigger and better books.

Book You've Read More than Once: There are lots that I go to for "comfort" reading, but one of my favorites is Margaret Atwood's The Blind Assassin. I forget how the mystery turns out in between sittings, so it remains an exciting read.

Book to Have on a Deserted Island: Cervantes, Don Quixote. Why? I haven't read it yet; The unabridged version is pretty thick so it should last me awhile; G. loves Quixote (is writing his thesis on it, actually), so reading it will be like having him with me.

Book that Made You Cry: Yikes, lot's of options here since I cry easily (seriously, sad commercials can get me going). The most recent that reduced me to a sobbing mess was Jonathan Safran Foer's Everything is Illuminated. Interestingly enough, I also laughed throughout.

Book You Wish You'd Written: To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Beautiful, lyrical, amazing.

Book You're Currently Reading: I just finished Ian McEwan's Atonement. Kind of a complicated plot, but still engrossing and ultimately very sad. Unrequited love, World War II, misunderstanding--need I say more? Last week, I read The Emperor's Children by Claire Messud. It is part of the post 9-11/New York City/what does it all mean? wave of books (The Good Life is another example that I enjoyed). Although I was unhappy with the ending, the characters were compelling

Book You've Been Meaning to Read: I have a list of books and articles dealing with Latinos and museum representation. Does that topic seem like it came out of nowhere? I'll blog an explanation soon...There are a few interesting autobiographies and nonfiction histories in the library's "just released" section that caught my eye. I also want to find oral histories related to rock, punk, and pop music (will explain later). And I have plenty of fun reading planned, too.

Any suggestions?

The Day After

We went to a party last night. It was one of those work/Christmas-y type parties where everyone should be on their best behavior, but eventually degenerates into a confused, tumbled conversations and drink. This party was related to G, not me. That might have given me license (at least in my head) to drink just a wee bit more and become a wee bit loud. And (again, at least in my head but corroborated by G), quite funny. The highlight of the party was an ongoing ping-pong game in the back room. The passion shown in that cramped room, among round-robin type teams, impressed and entertained for hours.

We met some very nice people who are involved in literacy programs among migrant workers. It's nice to be reminded that valuable programs like that exist. And cool people are doing good work in the community.

Somewhere after leaving the first party for another location and finding myself devouring a hamburger in a tight booth, I got sentimental and called up one of my best friends who lives out of town. Being out and about doesn't happen too often (Filomena gives us guilt trips everytime), so when it does it reminds of earlier smoke-filled bar days I shared with A and S (and, after we became a couple, G, of course). I called their cell phone to leave a message because it was really late (late to the point of early, if you catch my drift). Then, big surprise, they called me back and I talked to A for a bit about their upcoming visit!

If I were a spiritual type, I might believe that God gave me a free pass this morning on the hangover (as if she doesn't have other things on her mind). What really saved me from hangover hell was that delicious hamburger and fries. Why is the food you eat late-early and drunk-ish always the best tasting food in the world?