March 5

 

Oh, but I am precious!

 

 

 

Okay, so today I went to the casino with my grandmother because she's been sort of down lately. I mean, not that we really need a reason to go to the casino because love of the casino courses through our blood like, well, blood, and we need no excuse. I didn't know for sure we were going because she'd been back and forthing about it with me on the phone. On weekends, I always like to spend one of the two days doing something with her, if I have nothing else to do, because she's my grandmother and I love her and love spending time with her, but you all know that so I'm kind of dithering on for no reason. Anyhow. I'd called her on Wednesday or Thursday and asked if she wanted to do something, thinking that she was going to choose going to Sports Haven (Sports Haven, for those of you who do not live in Connecticut, is a giant hall with tables and chairs and TVs and they pipe in horse races from all over the country. Also, Jai Alai, which is a stupid sport, and dog racing, which is mean) because it's cheaper. She called me Friday, all atwitter, asking what I was doing on Saturday. I thought that perhaps she needed me to TAKE her somewhere or pick something up. Nope. She was like "I WANT TO GO TO THE CASINO!!!" I replied "CAN'T WE GO ON SUNDAY?!?!" and she said "I THOUGHT WE WERE PLAYING TO HORSES SUNDAY!!!" I said "WE CAN DO WHATEVER WE WANT!!!!" (note, the conversation has been related in all caps because she was a little high strung about it). I had semi plans, so Saturday was out.

My grandmother has been down, you see, because several months ago, her doctor put her on a very mild antidepressant. She took it and was doing really well, was much happier and less sad and likely to burst into tears. That chugged along just fine until i walked into the house to find her sitting at the kitchen table with a pill cutter. When I asked what she was doing, she snapped "THESE PILLS don't WORK and they make me FEEL FUNNY and I don't want to take whole ones!!!". Well, evidently, she went from half-pill taking to NO pill taking, and when I went out with her last weekend, when we took Angelo out for lunch, she kept bursting into tears. Totally out of the blue. This is not to say I don't believe she has reason to cry, because she, more than many other people I know has a legitimate reason to feel badly for herself, and yet, she bucks that shit up with no complaints. I managed (I and several other family members) to talk her into going back ON the antidepressants, which she did on Friday and she's calmed down a great deal already.

So, I show up at her house, she hands me gambling money (you wish you had a gambling grandmother too, admit it!) and we drive off to the casino. We don't win a thing, have a nice (well, plentiful and not terrible) buffet lunch including dessert (me: a dish of M&Ms and some sort of pink cake) and stay until about 5. On the drive home, we get to talking about all sorts of things, including but not limited to:

*Angelo, and what kind of a pain in the ass he was to be married to because of a FEROCIOUS hair trigger temper.

*The television shows we used to watch together when I was little and spent most of my time with her (Hawaii Five-0, The Dating Game, The Andy Griffith Show, Happy Days, Match Game PM)

*Things that make my mother crazy that I wouldn't even give two thoughts about (people working on her building in NY, what if someone falls off the roof and they get sued? Also, why does it look so dumpy and sloppy!?)

* How desperately I wanted us to go in Family Feud when I was a kid, because I wanted my grandfather to answer SOME question with "BASTARDS!!" (As in "Name something you'd call someone who cut in front of you in the grocery line!")

* The stupidity of the Connecticut Blue Laws

 

We chatted about the blue laws for a little while because as I was driving back, I realized that a glass of wine would not suck one bit, and seeing as how I'm 35 years old, I should be allowed to buy a glass of wine whenever the hell I so desire, which is not the case here. I need to anticipate any future wine requirements on Saturday before 9:00 pm, or I'm out of luck come Sunday. Gramma says "Well, I have wine at the house, why don't you come up, and I will pour some into a container for you!". Sounds like a plan. We get back to her house, I go upstairs and she pulls out one of those ENORMO jugs of cheap red, which is fine, I'm not super fussy about it (there is only one wine I flat out refuse to drink--Chardonnay, which tastes like wrung out socks) and she pulls out an empty salsa jar. She shoves the jar at me and says "DOES THIS SMELL?" It does not, so she pours the wine into the jar. She puts a piece of tin foil over the lid and THEN puts the lid on. She says "OKAY NOW YOU HAVE TO PUT THIS IN YOUR TRUNK IN CASE YOU GET PULLED OVER!!!!!!!!' I was like "Gram, you think that if the cops pull me over for a random check, they're going to see the salsa jar, demand that I open it, and nail me for that? for SALSA JAR WINE?? IS THAT what I'm going to go to jail for?!?!" She put the salsa wine into a paper bag, folded the bag down a bunch of times and handed it to me.

"DON'T BE SMART!!! KEEP IT IN THE BAG!! I DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY TO BAIL YOU OUT OF JAIL TONIGHT, OK!?!? I AM TIRED!!!!'

 

So now I'm here sitting at my desk with an as-of yet unsipped glass of salsa wine, which means I've got plans. You all have a great night!

 

the other day - home - email - soon