I had really really high hopes for 2011. When last we left our hero, my appendix had exploded and I was headed to Jacksonville to spend time with family. What happens next is where I hope that I have somehow learned from these experiences and grown as a person. Whether that has happened or not is yet to be seen.

January was spent mostly sick. That’s all there really is to report about January. It was a month of illness where I mixed up so much home made cough syrup I kept both bees and Marker’s Mark in business. You see, I can’t take the over the counter cold medicines like a normal person. They make me super jittery and I feel funky and fluttery and it’s almost better to lie there wishing for death while mouth breathing than to attempt to take Nyquil. So it was a lot of shots of equal parts whiskey and honey. Not only did it work miracles on my throat, it helped me pass out.

February, I thought would be much different. I still remained sick for most of the month and often wondered if I’d ever regain breathing abilities through both nostrils at the same time. 50% of the immediate family that I possess that actually care about me had a stroke in February. It’s very hard to adequately put into words what that feels like. To know that 50% of the people who give a rat’s ass about you (and who are so very very proud of you) could die in the cold sterile and puce green confines of a hospital room and not remember who you are. Yup, that was what I was most concerned about.. Not whether he remembered his own children or if he was going to regain movement on his right side or if they could stop the bleeding on his brain but if he would remember me. I can’t deny that this is an incredibly selfish thing to worry about, but it’s what came to me.

You see, this is a man who crawled around on the floor with me and played with He-Man action figures. A man who, before things like Tivo and DVR, recorded VHS tape after VHS tape of Christmas and other holiday specials and removed the commercials from them so I wouldn’t have to fast forward. This is the man who showed me what a computer was. Who took me on trips for ice cream. Who values my accomplishments over his own children. I was scared shit-less about what it would mean if he didn’t know who I was or didn’t recognize me.

Earlier that week I had put my armor on.. I went into what I call Slayer Mode (always a Buffy fall back, right?). I locked up everything I was feeling in front of my grandmother. She needed someone to be strong, someone to tell her what needed to be done, what not to worry about, someone reassuring who was calm, cool and collected. Her own children were not able to provide this so that duty fell to me. I would have liked nothing more than to have cried or have been consoled or to share my deepest fear (not being remembered) but I couldn’t and didn’t (and still haven’t). That’s not what she needed. I needed to be a calming influence.

When I saw him he was unsure of his own age, what year it was, when his birthday was but as soon as he saw me he took my hand and said “Hey buddy, how are you?” He knew me. He let me know that I was his number one guy and that he loved me and even now as I type this it’s hard to keep the tears from streaming down my face. I have no idea how I managed to keep a smile plastered on my lips then, but I somehow did.

That was how my February was spent.

March, by extension, was much the same. There were no more trips to the hospital but there were trips to what I refer to as home but what is really my grandparent’s house. There again I kept my armor on… I stayed in Slayer Mode and calmly reviewed the insurance reports and statements and deciphered what they meant so that my grandmother was clear about what was being charged to her and what was covered.

It’s hard to be he calm influence and I don’t like it. Not even a little bit.

Last monday my grandfather was released (for better or for worse) from the hospital as there is nothing left that they can do for him. Next week I will go and visit him and while I no longer worry about him remembering me I worry about who it is that I’ll be seeing. The doctors have told us that due to the bleeding that has taken place on his brain he’ll never be the same person mentally (or physically) that he was before his stroke and that’s a bit frightening.. having to get to know someone all over again that you’ve known your entire life.

Some good things happened in March though that I will leave you with so that we end on a positive note. I have set my internal intent to graduate indicator. I have 21 credits left to work through and I wanted to be done next spring but because of how Penn State’s tuition discount works and the amount of credits left that wasn’t a feasible option. Instead, I will graduate at the end of next summer. I can not adequately express in words how wonderful this proposition sounds.  I can’t wait to “Just” work.

I knew that when 2010 started it was going to be something special. It was going to bring with it a force of unimaginable momentum and change. The changes, I thought, would be my of my own choosing.

I was wrong. Well not completely. Partly. There was wrongness and sone rightness.

As 2010 winds down I am relieved and thankful. I had anticipated all these wonderful changey type things happening and some of them did, but with the good there is always the bad, the not so bad, the fine, the not so good, and the mediocre.

I don’t enjoy talking about death. Or thinking about it. Or preparing for it. And that’s a large part of what I had to face in the second half of the year. I had to grow up in that way. I had to look death in the way and discuss details and ask questions that made me want to run away in terror because no one wants to think of the people who’ve given them the most of what and who they are as gone. I certainly don’t.

A more short term bad thing was losing my appendix. Well, I didn’t so much lose it as it was removed. The pain I felt will always stay with me; that feeling of delerium, of half knowing and trying to convince yourself otherwise. It is a pain that I hope I never feel again. The only silver lining in the whole thing was that it happened before I left for warmer climates and not during my trip. That would have been a real downer.

Of course there were a lot of happier and “good” changes as well. I’m drinking more water than I ever have before and I make a concious effort to eat better things. I don’t not eat stuff ( take my cookies from me and you risk your life) because that would be silly. I have no weight to try and lose. I just try to not eat cookies for breakfast without eating something healthier along with it.

After a whirlwind year of highs and lows, I can only brace myself for the year to come. It’s going to be amazing and awful, but regardless of the lows, the highs will make it all worth it.

I am deep in the midst of a home renovation. You see, Jason and I had a battle of wills and apparently my will was not strongest on this topic. I wanted to hire someone to do it. He wanted to do it himself. So he is. ‘What is it?’ you might ask. We’re in the middle of a Pergo floor laying down… thingie.

It all started innocently enough. We bought some samples.. selected the one we liked and then Lowes up and dumped that color. So we picked something else (and I’m happy with our selection) and then 29 boxes of it ended up in our basement. I’m not quite sure how he talked me into allowing us to do it, but we are.

Currently, most of the carpet is ripped up, some of the vinyl in the kitchen is ripped up and some of the floor is laid in the dining room/living room/never ending double wide hallway.

Thankfully a few of our close friends have volunteered to assist with the process (and they’ve done it before so they know what they’re doing!) and all should go smoothly.

I, however, will not participating much in this process. Oh sure, I removed staples from the subfloor and cut up some of the carpet but the actual laying of the Pergo? I want no part of that and the thought of it makes me semi anxious.

Thankfully, Jason agreed with me and has exiled me to the deck until further notice where I plan to create an oasis with the tropical plants I purchased at Home Depo this afternoon and as many margaritas as I can drink without throwing up. I figure if I’m drunk enough any mistake or mishap will roll off me like water on a duck.

I am truly in awe that Jason, who has never laid Pergo before, can read a few directions and can just start using power tools and saws and create a beautiful masterpiece. Everyone has limitations… and I know that I am not capable of doing what he’s undertaking. I work with mediums that I can easily correct; yarn and paint. If I fuck up some crochet or knitting I can (in most cases and with the assistance of experienced knitters!) undo what I fucked up and redo it correctly. With painting I just put more paint on the canvas until I see what it is I want to see. Doing things that are very final.. like cutting floor boards scares the dickens out of me.

I think it’s because I hate to mess up. I’m a Virgo.. I need order (at least an order that my mind calls order). I need exactness. I feel like I have to know exactly what it is I’m doing or I can’t do it unless I know I can pull a string or slap some more on to undo it.

I give kudos to those that are able to throw caution to the wind and live in the moment.

Due to finals preparation and general lack of interest cleaning has been suspended until further notice. You pretend cat sized dust balls don’t exist. The company you have over pretends with you.