Just a Fool

While I'm exhausted and looking forward to wearing color again tomorrow, I am happy to report I held it together well at the funeral today. Aside from a few sobs during the hymns and after watching my friend's dad kiss his wife's coffin, I was okay. I was able to talk reasonably with my friend and even comfort another friend.

My friend's Mom was a loved lady. Cars stretched far in front and behind us as we drove from the church to the gravesite, and the line of well-wishers at the wake was out the door. While I wish there could be some way for her to have had more time, all any of us can hope for is to be so loved while we're here.

Crying Fool

I wish there were some way I could practice getting better at dealing with death. I guess the only rehearsal any of us gets is imagining what it will be like to live without a loved one while he or she is still here. But that doesn't work for me.

I thought about this on the way to New Hampshire for the wake of one of my best friend's mother. She called me on Saturday morning to tell me her mom had finally lost to the cancer she'd been battling for more than two years. As her voice cracked on the other end of the phone, I immediately started to sob. I got myself together only to immediately lose it again when I called a mutual friend to pass along the news. I was watching something on TV I wanted my mother to see, and cried again when I told her.

Stupidly, I decided to see There Will Be Blood last night, and was trying to finish the Charles Schulz biography I was reading (spoiler: he dies of cancer), leaving me so emotional that I was that person who cries quietly on the train while other passengers look away. I woke up this morning, hoping I could keep it together in front of my friend and her family at the wake.

I was fine until I started looking at the pictures of my friend's parents on their wedding day. They both looked so cute and so young, and it wasn't that long ago they were married. I got it back together until I waved at my friend, who sadly waved back. A friend handed me a tissue as I got close to the casket and I composed myself enough to hug her family and choke out an "I'm sorry."

"Don't cry," my friend warned as I started to lose it again after I let her out of a hug.

I hate being the emotional basketcase when people die. I wish I could just mist up at the appropriate times and save the sobbing for the privacy of my apartment. I want to be able to hug my friend and be strong for her, but I can't manage to do that. Instead, I'll be hiding in the back of the church tomorrow at the funeral. I know the most important thing is that I show up and show my friend I care. I just wish I could accomplish that without sobbing my way through a box of Kleenex.

Eureka!

I've finally learned why I'm broke.

If you're sad and shopping, watch your wallet: A new study shows people's spending judgment goes out the window when they're down, especially if they're a bit self-absorbed.

It's like they know me.

Now to find a way to justify my credit card balances as a legitimate mental problem so I am no longer responsible for paying them off.

Ouch

Um. What the fuck just happened?

Pride Goeth Before Being Triple-Charged

Yesterday, I read all about commuters who couldn't buy their T passes yesterday morning because all the Charlie Card machines were overloaded. I smugly noted that I'd bought my T pass on Thursday night, so I was all set for February. Suckas!

Alas, my smugness has come back to bite me. When I checked my bank account this morning, I found that my T pass charge had posted on Thursday night. But there are two pending charges from the MBTA. One $59 charge is marked as a deposit, and another is marked as an additional withdrawal.

I hope that all works out. I can't even begin to fathom trying to reconcile the two most inefficient entities I deal with on a regular basis—the MBTA and Sovereign Bank.