moosh in indy.

I’m sitting in a Starbucks in Orange County, California in boots, jaunty wool cap and sweater. I know it’s November but I’m surrounded by Palm Trees and capris in 80 degree weather. I feel a little out of place.

I’m also the only girl under 50 in a 50 mile radius who is not wearing skinny jeans.

I am visiting my grandparents, my grandpa just turned 89 on Sunday and is the only man on his block to take care of his own yard. My grandma is 85 and volunteers twice a week at the Nixon library. They just finished a cruise to Scandinavia, earlier this year they cruised the tip on South America, last year they went to New Zealand and the year before they walked the Great Wall. I come from some fantastic genetics.

I have spent the last few days cornered by my grandpa telling me stories from WWII, he was sent to Pearl Harbor 3 weeks after the war started and was a forensic entomologist, meaning he was in charge of keeping the bugs that make people sick at bay. He has hundreds of photos from his service as Malaria control and one of his college professors was in charge of designing the Panama Canal. He still works as an entomologist for citrus groves all over Southern California. The man loooves bugs.

They have been married 62 years. They both served in WWII, lived through the Great Depression, segregation, the invention of television, the first man on the moon and now the first African American President.

the moosh is named after my grandma.

I apologize to any of you who were worried after my last post, a lot is going on in my life and it all became overwhelming right before I was about to leave for two months.

I broke down into hysterical sobs because my favorite sweater had fuzzballs on it.

Cody has law school finals and since this is his last year, and it’s kind of our tradition, the moosh and I took off on a migration to let Cody psychotically study for the next month and half and he’ll join us in Utah in December for Christmas.

I’ll be all over Southern California until November 18th. I’ll be spending a lot of my time with her. If you know her, email her, let’s party. If you don’t know her, you should really reconsider. After that time I’ll be in Utah.

the moosh has finished her muffin, her milk is gone, which means my time at Starbucks is spent.

Thank you to all of you who have stuck around, or who have just come here. This blog has been a lifeline for me when I have nothing left, nowhere to go to, or no one to talk to. It has also been my sounding board for things I love, things that bug me and for all the ridiculous little nuances of life.

I know you all have a hundred other things you could be or should be doing and I’m truly blessed and honored that you spend a little bit of your life in mine.

xoxo

At least the weather has been absolutely perfect for the world to start coming to an end, right?

I’m headed out today for California.

The only word that can describe my state of mind is heavy.

Heavy with worry.

Heavy with love.

Heavy with sorrow.

Heavy with anticipation.

I won’t be back in Indiana until January 6th and when I do come back everything will have changed.

I’m going to try and enjoy the upcoming days and moments.

Now go vote. I personally am writing in for Bruce Wayne.

Dear AT&T,

Ha ha, you funny jokers you. I logged onto your att.com site today to tell you that I have no dial tone and that my phone isn’t working. Your first instructions to me were “call our 24/7 customer service line.” Of course in my head I think “CALL! Immediate results!” Then I remember what I would be calling about.

And that I can’t.

I know I could use my cell phone, but peak minutes spent on hold with those automated machine things?

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t understand what you said. Did you say you wanted a sandwich with bologna?”

“No. But if you don’t help me I’ll find some choice places to shove some bologna.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m having trouble understanding you. Did you say you wanted to buy a pony?”

GAH!

I also think it’s very admirable that you gave me step by step instructions on troubleshooting my phone issues. Of course it has to start with “Is your phone plugged into the wall?” because there are those people out there.

I’m even related to a couple of them.

What really got me is that you provided a tutorial for customers to self diagnose their phone line, which included bringing a corded phone and a screwdriver outside their home to the Network Interface Device. I’m flattered that you trust me enough to try and fix my own phone, or that you’re that ecologically (economically?) minded enough to have the customer do his or her own repairs. However I don’t think it’s the smartest thing.

Also, thanks for the warning not to perform the troubleshooting in an electrical storm, again, totally related to the reason you have to give that warning.

However, something went awry. There was a dude all up in my telephone buisiness yesterday morning as the moosh and I were eating cereal. Was he supposed to be there? Did you screw up? Because I know I didn’t ask him to be there. All I know is my phone doesn’t work.

And it should.

Can you hear me now?

xoxo-

Casey