I’m going to be in San Diego, California for ten days starting on Monday.
What could possibly tear me away from the perpetual rain and cold that is Seattle in November, you ask? My dear beloved Auntie P. needs me.
My aunt and I have always been close, and in the last few weeks, she’s had a rough go of it. First, an unfortunate trip on one of the crooked sidewalk tiles in Ocean Beach left her with a broken shoulder. Then her house caught on fire after a electrical shortage in her garage. No one was hurt, but an over-taxed fire department took 20 minutes to get to her house (thanks, California budget cuts!). And then, in an equally crappy twist of fate, the insurance company sent a cleaning crew to clean up after the fire, and Auntie P. slipped on the freshly-waxed floors, breaking her leg and dislocating her kneecap.
All of this happened in about two weeks’ time.
I talked to my aunt last week and asked her how she was doing.
“Oh, fine,” she said, as though it were no big deal.
I told her how impressed I was with her positive attitude.
“Well, If I thought I could get better faster by complaining, I would!” she said, laughing. Either she’s on some powerful pain-killers, or my aunt is awesome. I suspect it’s a little of both.
For the past two weeks, my mom has been on duty, taking care of her sister and minding her house for her. On Monday, I’m heading down to give her a hand. I usually love going to see my Auntie, but I’m kind of on edge about this visit – I’m worried about the most random things, mostly because I’ve never been in a position to take care of anyone.
What if she doesn’t like my cooking? What if I do a terrible job at cleaning her house? What if I make her watch crappy movies or programs that she hates? Will she be okay if I leave for a couple hours to go to Bikram, or will she think I’ve gone to some sort of sweaty cult and OHMYGOD what if she tells MY MOM and then MY MOM and my AUNT will think I’m in a SWEAT-CULT, WHATEVER THAT IS?
These are things that are worrying me. They are ridiculous things to worry about. Instead, I should focus on the magic that is Ocean Beach and my aunt’s house. Magic like …
Dogs scratching their asses on hardwood floors!
Stores that are just as excited about their cheese as I am!
Bins of scary-ass toys!
Japanese toilet seats that wash your bum. No, really:
Uncles who come across as total badasses …
But then …
Inadvertently hilarious restaurant names:
Cup after cup after cup of English tea:
And, of course …
So that’s the plan for the next week and half, folks. Wish me luck. I will try to have some posts up for the time I’m away, and I’m sincerely hoping I’ll be able to blog while I’m down there, but I really have no idea if that will work or not. I might be too inundated with trying to keep the dog from scratching his ass on my foot and making hourly pots of tea. But I will do my best.