My mother texted me this morning to tell me that my grandmother died last night.

I don't know quite how to feel about that.

I am really tired of the Mitchell trial. Eight years of BS and him making a circus of all of the proceedings by singing at the top of his lungs all the time. And I have to be amused by today's developments. The defense filed the motion to stay the trial, and it came through during the defense's opening statements. So now they're complaining. Karma's a bitch, dude.

I also don't quite understand how the defense can possibly win this. Psychiatrists have said he knew exactly what he was doing and still does, that the singing is deliberate disruption, and Elizabeth was found with him. I don't know.

Sometimes the only possible response to my life is to laugh. Seriously, what.

Reasons you annoy me, Jim Matheson

In your ads, you make a point of distancing yourself from other Democrats and their policies. But you're still a Democrat. If you don't agree with them or their policies and platforms, why are you still a Democrat?

When a woman, a private citizen, paid for ads for your Republican challenger, you very dismissively waved them off by saying, "it's just the same old same old trying to tie me into the Democratic Party." Um, no. You did that yourself, honey. By, oh, I don't know. Joining the Democratic Party. And then running as a candidate from the Democratic Party.

And one final point, one I stumped my PoliSci professor at Weber with. You constantly say in your ads that you "cross the aisle to do what is right for Utah". If you have to cross the aisle to do what is right for Utah, doesn't that imply that you are on the wrong side of the aisle?

You're a moron. And at the end of the day, you are still a Democrat. You are still a mark in the column that put Nancy Pelosi in power. Stop trying to convince people you aren't one of them, because you are.

I have never not wanted to go to the doctor more than I don't want to go to the doctor tomorrow.

things wot pissed me off today

1. When I got to work this morning, there was a tub of mail on the sorting ledge that the regular carrier had left for me to deliver today. It was hold mail for two different houses that he had been keeping in one tub. Yes, they have the same last name. Yes, they had holds for the same time frame. Yes, they are probably related. Yes, they live in the same community. NO, THEY DO NOT LIVE IN THE SAME HOUSE. I had to sort through it all so I could deliver it correctly. When I showed my supervisor she said, "Maybe he didn't realize." Yeah, he did. He knew exactly what he was doing, had written both unit numbers on the hold paper, and I am sick and tired of her making excuses for the completely dumbass things he keeps doing. I have one friend who thinks they're having an affair, because anything he asks for she gives him, and all the stupid STUPID things he does, she makes excuses for.

2. The supervisor comes around to each carrier each morning to ask when we think we will be able to leave the office and when we think we'll get back that afternoon. These estimates are based on how much mail we have on that route that day and how long it takes us to deliver that route on an average mail day. The computer has already projected a time based on the regular carrier's average time and on the mail volumes for that day. When she came by around 9 this morning, I told her I was going to take the medicare booklets out the same way I do the grocery ads. She said they weren't exactly in order the way they were supposed to be, so probably I should sort them. (Guess what? They were.) There were three piles on the floor that each came up past my knees. Then she asked when I thought I'd get back. I told her about 4:30. She asked when I would be leaving. I said 11. She said, "can we shoot for 10:30?" I said, "we can shoot for it" in a pretty noncommittal tone of voice. She said good and moved on to the next carrier. As I left at 11, I told her "I said it would be 11". I finished just before 4:30 but hadn't taken a lunch, which is included in our on-the-street time, so I "finished" at 4:55. I asked the night supervisor when I got back what time she had put on the paper this morning and he told me 10:30. So I told him what had happened this morning and he said "I just talked to her this afternoon and she told me she doesn't do that." Clearly, she does. He also told me that the computer projections for my route today were 11:17 and 5:35. So I beat the projections anyway.

3. I know there was a "three" but can't remember what it was now. Probably for the best!

This is more of an irritant than anything else, but I forgot to go to the bank after work today. My bank is in the grocery store, so I forgot to get bread too. Rar.

Now you listen to me, you sanctimonious old bat. You are calling to let me know what songs you have chosen for Relief Society tomorrow. This does not actually require a literal conversation with you - you are just giving me numbers (which, on a side note, are for once songs that we actually know instead of random hymns that no one but you has ever even heard of) which can just as, if not MORE, easily be left on my voice mail. Leaving messages for later retrieval is - GASP - exactly what voice mail is for!

Furthermore, having a telephone does not mean that I am in any way required to answer it, and making snide comments about how I never answer just ensures that, if it's you calling, I never will. You made a big stink just a few weeks ago about how young I really am, and yet you get pissy because I'm not waiting with bated breath for your call at 9:30 on a Saturday night?

Back off, lady. I have the mouth of a sailor and I'm not afraid to use it.

I have a solo in the Messiah this year. I should probably start practicing the part I don't know.

What does it say about me that the only place I truly feel safe is my therapist's office?

Sometimes it's like I don't even exist,
Even God has lost track of my soul.
Why else would He leave me out here like this,
To wander this world all alone.

--Jonny Lang

My sister told me that our other sister told her that Dad told her that I have never liked our youngest sister, not even when they first brought her home from the hospital.

At least I'm consistent?

I've never felt real. Never felt grounded or felt as though life was anything but some incredibly bizarre dream that just won't end. It's really hard to convince myself that anything is important when I don't quite believe it's real.

My glasses broke last Thursday, I saw the eye doctor Friday and had new glasses by 1:30 this afternoon. I didn't realize how blurry my vision was until I could actually see again.

Continuing ed is offering an ongoing beginning medical transcription class for $400. Meets Monday and Wednesday for three hours until one reaches 560 hours, give or take. I could start it right away or in a couple weeks. I tend to finish things quickly, so it might not take as long as that for me. It includes medical terminology and most of the books and anatomy and sounds like a real class. The intermediate section is another $400 and takes another 210 hours. Advanced is another $400 and another 400 hours.

And then there's a one time, three hour class in the middle of July for $58 that sounds like it's just some woman who's been doing medical transcription for 20+ years. The pros for this one are that it's much cheaper, much faster, and sounds like more practical application/real world realities than the other. I'm not sure it's training so much as it's a chance to see if it's something you're really interested in, or a guide of sorts if you already have the training. I could go and see what she has to say, and then take the actual class if I choose to do so after that.

I don't know. It would be nice to have something part time I could do as much or as little as I had time for, when I had time for it. I'm not sure I want to wait until July to look into it. I do know that I don't want to still be a letter carrier in twenty years, or even ten, and I have even less interest in management.

I get it, okay? You can stop cutting me off at the knees any time now, I give up.

Okay! Do NOT ask me to play opening and closing for the stake music fireside, then say "I assume you'll need to do prelude and after too" instead of asking, then call me and say "since you're playing anyway, will you accompany this other woman singing" if it's not actually a music fireside. I have reasons why I do not attend singles firesides, and I do not appreciate being blindsided that way. Upside is, I will not feel even slightly guilty for telling you no for the rest of my life. Good job!

To say nothing of the ongoing argument with the woman I accompanied. She was convinced my copy of the song was a different arrangement than hers. Which, no. Exact same one. And saying "I really think it's just a little bit different" over and over does not make you right, honey. I promise.

I miss you, Kamille. I wish you were still in my ward.

I have mixed feelings about our choir concerts last night and Friday night. They were magnificent - the best we've ever done, I think. Our guest artist was Jenny Oaks Baker, who is an unbelievably talented musician, and we rose to the occasion. I feel blessed to have been part of that experience, frankly.

But we're losing our director, and those were his last. I had thought he was going to do our Easter and Summer concerts too, finish out the season, but something apparently changed and he couldn't finish out. He's a wonderful director and it won't be the same without him. We'll all miss him. The associate director will miss him the most, of course - she's known him for years, was at the Y in the music program too, and has worked closely with him here - but we'll all miss him. We don't know who will replace him, either. I don't think the board has any idea yet.

And the hits keep coming.

We're going to lose my great-aunt's Steinway grand.

She earned a doctorate in piano performance from the University of Utah. Her parents bought that piano in the 30's. She played it and cherished it every single day for over seventy years. As she aged and lost dexterity, she didn't play as often, but she still played and still loved her piano.

Last year she told my mother that my grandfather, her brother, had threatened to take it away from her. The day she died, he called someone in town to ask how to get it appraised. He and his new wife have gone through so much money and have bought so much crap that he's in an obscene amount of debt and still looking for more ways to get more money to spend. He's going to sell her piano. If one of us wanted to keep it, we would have to buy it from him. No one has space for a grand piano, either. I knew it was impossible, but I wanted that piano so much.

We're going to lose it. It's more than my own selfish desire to have it - it's a family heirloom. It was the one thing Ruth cherished above everything else she ever owned. And we're going lose it.

Actually, no. No, your failure to find a sub does not mean that I will "have to do it". You have known for months that you would not be here this Sunday, because you told me well before Christmas. If you had asked me, I probably would have said yes, but tell me I "have" to, and I turn into a screaming five year old. NO, I DON'T.

I think it would be easier to watch my grandfather fall apart physically than it is to see him degenerate mentally.

Kamille, I think you'll laugh at this video. I thought of you when I watched it.