I woke up this morning with a start. It was later than I usually wake, around 9:15 am. I had been awake for part of the night/morning and finally fell back asleep somewhere after 7 am. Immediately I realized my heart was racing. I had been dreaming about my friend J who passed away in late March. We were sitting at a kitchen table. If I really look around it was not my house, it was not her house. It was not the house I grew up in, which is where I usually dream dreams of being at home. It was my Grandma's kitchen. I don't really know why I would dream us in my Grandma's kitchen, J had never been there. But if I had to guess I would say that it indicates that J and Grandma are together. But I don't know.
I had so many questions for J, mostly about what is going on with her family. Very recently I have been aware of a situation within her family that is most unfortunate. It happened after she passed. So I asked her about it as I fussed around trying to make coffee or something. She sat at the table, looking so beautiful and so peaceful. If I really think about it and concentrate on this dream, someone was in the living room waiting, and I think it was my Grandma. Sure wish she had come into the kitchen to say Hi, but I think she was there for moral support for J.
We spoke about the situation and she told me how she knows her son will get through it, that he is strong and has good support in his dad. I was relieved to hear that because watching from the sidelines has been difficult and I keep wondering if I should reach out to him and see if he's OK. It cannot be easy for him to be going through this so soon after he lost his mom. She told me that he has, of course, moved back home and things would be OK.
We didn't talk about her but I could see by looking at her and being near her that she looked at peace. She told me she was fine. She looked the same as always. She had her hair, she wore her glasses. She was my J and she didn't want to dwell on herself, just wanted to assure me her son would be fine.
So, do you believe that was an actual visit or just a vivid dream? I believe it was a visit. It's happened to me before with a friend who had passed away a long time ago. M was only 21 at the time, I was 22. He died of a brain tumor and I was devastated to lose him. I had a very hard time coping. It was my first serious brush with losing someone so close to me. It was several weeks, maybe even months after he passed away that I saw him. I could not get him out of my mind and cried a lot. Then one morning, as if in a dream, he appeared to me. He sat on the edge of my bed looking almost luminescent. He told me he was fine, to stop worrying about him and to go on with my life. I was filled with such peace after that and was able to move on. I've never forgotten him or that visit, obviously, but I was able to move past it.
I think you have to be open to such visits for them to actually occur. I would give anything to have them more frequently. I would love to see my Grandma, J, M.... hell even Butthole can come visit me if he wants to! It's beautiful and meaningful and has given me a sense of calm about losing J. Seeing her looking well and knowing my Grandma is with her, showing her the ropes if you will has been amazing. Maybe it's crazy to believe that, but if something like that can give me peace, so be it. I'll take the crazy label.
Showing posts with label J. Show all posts
Showing posts with label J. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
Life is Too Short
Regular readers to this blog know that I recently lost a very good friend to cancer. Yesterday I was handed another reminder of just how short life is. It was my niece's first communion party. My brother had told me about a year ago that his good friend JA has cancer, pancreatic cancer no less. Devastating news. JA is literally the only friend of my brothers that I ever liked. Ever.
Bro is 8 years older than me, and so we never really hung out in the same crowd. He didn't approve of things I did and in general he always acted more like a father than a brother. But JA is cool. He's a super nice guy and he always had my back where bro was concerned. I remember when I was just out of high school and between jobs. Bro got into a pretty serious accident. He was working landscaping at the time and was on a tractor when his shoelace got caught on the gas peddle. He couldn't get it out and was thrown from the tractor with his foot still attached to the gas peddle. The tractor dragged him for a bit, tearing his shirt off and then most of the skin off his back. It was horrible! His back was completely raw. He came back home to stay with us while he was recuperating. My mom was too nervous to do the things that needed to be done for him, like change his dressing several times a day and clean his wounds, so I did it. I took care of him for several weeks while he recovered. I didn't do much of anything else. And then JA came over to see him. JA took me into the kitchen and said, "go... go out. Do something else, I'll stay with him." A much needed break that he knew I needed, and I went. And I never forgot it. A bond was formed that day. From then on he was my friend too. JA is someone I love.
When he got married it was like he was my kindred spirit. Married on Halloween, he and his wife had a costume wedding and he was Frankenstein and she was Bride of Frankenstein. I think those who know me know how I feel about that! It was awesome!
In the best of times, or the worst of times, JA was always there. When my brothers friends were calling me a freak and asking bro why I looked the way I looked, JA had my back again. He stood up for me with the closed minded.
And now, on the occasion of my niece's first communion party, bro told me JA would be there. My niece is his goddaughter after all. But he wanted me to know that JA looks drastically different. Both bro and sis in law let me know that he is almost unrecognizable. And I thank them both for preparing me. Because I don't think I would have been prepared for what I saw when JA came in. He had aged a lot and was so painfully thin it's hard to even imagine, let alone see him. It has been less than a year since I last saw him and it seems like way longer. He was still the same JA as always though, even given this dreaded illness that he is trying to fight. I tried hard not to talk about that, when you're going through it, do you really want to keep telling people about your treatments and things? I imagine not, so I didn't bring it up and we just talked about general stuff. He stayed a little while, ate well and soon had to leave. In all likelihood that was the last time I will ever see him.
When the party was over, I thanked my sister in law and bro for letting me know what to expect ahead of time, and still, I wasn't prepared. Sis in law said that he told someone at the party that he doesn't have much time left. And that is when I broke down. Much like J, JA is exhibiting a strength and dignity that I am simply in awe of. I didn't want to lose J, and I don't want to lose JA. I know I have zero control over that, but it sucks. I hate it. I don't want to lose people I love. Who does really huh?
Life is too fucking short. The more things like this happen, the more I tend to reexamine my life and want to make some changes to it. Being content with sameness is unacceptable anymore. I'm 46 years old. I'm not getting any younger. If something happens to me, like with J or JA, will I have a full life to look back on? I don't know. I know there is something missing. I know there are so many things I want to do. I know that I am going to go after what I want. I just wish it didn't take such devastating losses to wake one up to these truths.
Bro is 8 years older than me, and so we never really hung out in the same crowd. He didn't approve of things I did and in general he always acted more like a father than a brother. But JA is cool. He's a super nice guy and he always had my back where bro was concerned. I remember when I was just out of high school and between jobs. Bro got into a pretty serious accident. He was working landscaping at the time and was on a tractor when his shoelace got caught on the gas peddle. He couldn't get it out and was thrown from the tractor with his foot still attached to the gas peddle. The tractor dragged him for a bit, tearing his shirt off and then most of the skin off his back. It was horrible! His back was completely raw. He came back home to stay with us while he was recuperating. My mom was too nervous to do the things that needed to be done for him, like change his dressing several times a day and clean his wounds, so I did it. I took care of him for several weeks while he recovered. I didn't do much of anything else. And then JA came over to see him. JA took me into the kitchen and said, "go... go out. Do something else, I'll stay with him." A much needed break that he knew I needed, and I went. And I never forgot it. A bond was formed that day. From then on he was my friend too. JA is someone I love.
When he got married it was like he was my kindred spirit. Married on Halloween, he and his wife had a costume wedding and he was Frankenstein and she was Bride of Frankenstein. I think those who know me know how I feel about that! It was awesome!
In the best of times, or the worst of times, JA was always there. When my brothers friends were calling me a freak and asking bro why I looked the way I looked, JA had my back again. He stood up for me with the closed minded.
And now, on the occasion of my niece's first communion party, bro told me JA would be there. My niece is his goddaughter after all. But he wanted me to know that JA looks drastically different. Both bro and sis in law let me know that he is almost unrecognizable. And I thank them both for preparing me. Because I don't think I would have been prepared for what I saw when JA came in. He had aged a lot and was so painfully thin it's hard to even imagine, let alone see him. It has been less than a year since I last saw him and it seems like way longer. He was still the same JA as always though, even given this dreaded illness that he is trying to fight. I tried hard not to talk about that, when you're going through it, do you really want to keep telling people about your treatments and things? I imagine not, so I didn't bring it up and we just talked about general stuff. He stayed a little while, ate well and soon had to leave. In all likelihood that was the last time I will ever see him.
When the party was over, I thanked my sister in law and bro for letting me know what to expect ahead of time, and still, I wasn't prepared. Sis in law said that he told someone at the party that he doesn't have much time left. And that is when I broke down. Much like J, JA is exhibiting a strength and dignity that I am simply in awe of. I didn't want to lose J, and I don't want to lose JA. I know I have zero control over that, but it sucks. I hate it. I don't want to lose people I love. Who does really huh?
Life is too fucking short. The more things like this happen, the more I tend to reexamine my life and want to make some changes to it. Being content with sameness is unacceptable anymore. I'm 46 years old. I'm not getting any younger. If something happens to me, like with J or JA, will I have a full life to look back on? I don't know. I know there is something missing. I know there are so many things I want to do. I know that I am going to go after what I want. I just wish it didn't take such devastating losses to wake one up to these truths.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Goodbye Dear Friend
I've written about J before, a few times. How much she has enhanced my life and how she was a big inspiration for me in starting this blog. I've written how she has been battling lung cancer, a non smoker, and the unfairness I have felt that she contracted the disease. And now it is with a heavy heart and a lot of sadness that I must say she has lost the war with cancer on March 24.
She fought every battle with utmost grace and a dignity that I can only hope to aspire to. Every setback was met with optimism. Every victory, with joy. In the year and nine months since her diagnosis, she looked cancer in the eye and met it head on. It's a testament to her courageous spirit. Sure, at the beginning she wanted to bury her head in the sand and not face it, but once that initial terror/denial ended, she was all strength. I dont' know that I can adequately do her justice because truly she is the bravest person I ever knew. And I will miss her every single day. On the surface, if anyone saw us together they would wonder what these two women have in common. But it was what we had below the surface that really mattered. She was 12 years older than me, but it never made a difference. She had a completely different life than I do, but that didn't matter either. She saw a lot in me that I sometimes have trouble seeing. And I saw in her a beautiful soul with a glorious sense of humor. We clicked immediately and have been friends since around 1996.
In January, things were looking up. The cancer in her lung was all but gone and nothing more than scar tissue. Unfortunately it had spread and there was a spot on her liver. After several different courses of chemo for the liver cancer, that cough came back. The cough that was the beginning of everything. And I knew this was a bad sign. A very bad sign. But I tried hard not to let myself think it. I didn't want to. I knew it was getting down to the wire and that her doctor was running out of treatment options. That cough. It nagged at me.
Through it all she was helping plan her son's wedding and hired me to make candy boxes for the rehearsal dinner. Every time we needed to contact each other it had to be via text or email because once she started to talk the cough took over. And still I tried to remain in denial. I just didn't want to think the worst. I wanted to be optimistic even though the last time I did speak to her, she had told me she's made peace with everything. Strength. Grace. Dignity.
On March 7, her husband called me to let me know that J's treatment options have been exhausted. There was nothing more anyone could do and she was now under hospice care. Her son's rehearsal dinner was the next day, the wedding on March 10. Would she be able to go was my question. Yes, she was going to the wedding come hell or high water, but had opted out of the rehearsal so she could conserve her energy. Good plan. And she did go to the wedding and from the pictures I saw, she looked beautiful.
On March 14, I received a letter in the mail from her. A letter that in essence was a goodbye. Devastating and yet beautiful. Something I will cherish. And a part of which I will share with you....
She fought every battle with utmost grace and a dignity that I can only hope to aspire to. Every setback was met with optimism. Every victory, with joy. In the year and nine months since her diagnosis, she looked cancer in the eye and met it head on. It's a testament to her courageous spirit. Sure, at the beginning she wanted to bury her head in the sand and not face it, but once that initial terror/denial ended, she was all strength. I dont' know that I can adequately do her justice because truly she is the bravest person I ever knew. And I will miss her every single day. On the surface, if anyone saw us together they would wonder what these two women have in common. But it was what we had below the surface that really mattered. She was 12 years older than me, but it never made a difference. She had a completely different life than I do, but that didn't matter either. She saw a lot in me that I sometimes have trouble seeing. And I saw in her a beautiful soul with a glorious sense of humor. We clicked immediately and have been friends since around 1996.
In January, things were looking up. The cancer in her lung was all but gone and nothing more than scar tissue. Unfortunately it had spread and there was a spot on her liver. After several different courses of chemo for the liver cancer, that cough came back. The cough that was the beginning of everything. And I knew this was a bad sign. A very bad sign. But I tried hard not to let myself think it. I didn't want to. I knew it was getting down to the wire and that her doctor was running out of treatment options. That cough. It nagged at me.
Through it all she was helping plan her son's wedding and hired me to make candy boxes for the rehearsal dinner. Every time we needed to contact each other it had to be via text or email because once she started to talk the cough took over. And still I tried to remain in denial. I just didn't want to think the worst. I wanted to be optimistic even though the last time I did speak to her, she had told me she's made peace with everything. Strength. Grace. Dignity.
On March 7, her husband called me to let me know that J's treatment options have been exhausted. There was nothing more anyone could do and she was now under hospice care. Her son's rehearsal dinner was the next day, the wedding on March 10. Would she be able to go was my question. Yes, she was going to the wedding come hell or high water, but had opted out of the rehearsal so she could conserve her energy. Good plan. And she did go to the wedding and from the pictures I saw, she looked beautiful.
On March 14, I received a letter in the mail from her. A letter that in essence was a goodbye. Devastating and yet beautiful. Something I will cherish. And a part of which I will share with you....
You are and always will be someone who touched my life in so many positive ways. A little bit of you will always be in me. Much love forever, JAfter drying my tears, I texted her to thank her for the beautiful letter and tell her again that I love her and how brave she is. She replied:
Hold on to it and read it when you need a little J in your life. I love you so very much!I told her I would hold onto it forever, and I will. How do you say goodbye to someone so dear, so special, so a part of you? I don't know. But I will be traveling to Cincinnati this weekend for her Memorial service so I can try to do that. Oh how I wish I could be going there again for a visit, to hang out with her and her husband. To meet her new daughter in law. How I wish it were anything but the reason I am going there. Love you forever J.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
You Are Beautiful
Last week was my niece J's graduation from 8th grade. If you didn't go to Catholic school you probably didn't have one of these. It's all pretty goofy and pointless but it makes the kids feel important as they are about to head to high school. Over the past few months, J and I have grown a lot closer since she chose me to be her Confirmation sponsor. She is so much like me, in both good and bad ways, it's kind of freakish. She looks exactly how I looked at 14 years old. She's sensitive and has anxiety like I do. She's smart and she likes to write. She digs vampires. She loves animals and has a huge heart. Where we differ is how athletic she is. She plays soccer, basketball, softball. I never did any of those things.
She's a great kid, all around. But for some reason, she never, in 9 years at that school (she also went to kindergarten there) made a friend. She's a bit shy but for some reason the kids at her school never accepted her and with only about 11 girls in her whole class, once friendships were established that was that. Those friendships were established in kindergarten. She has, at times, eaten lunch in the office because she has no one to sit with. When she does venture the cafeteria, she is ignored. She was never included in any way. The stupid ass school did nothing about this disgusting treatment. Of course what you expect from a Catholic school. They sweep everything under the rug.
A few weeks ago it was her birthday. And at her school, on a students birthday the kids decorate the birthday kids locker and desk. J went to school that morning and was greeted with nothing. No decorations anywhere. The only kid in her class who did not receive this special treatment for her birthday. And she was devastated. Being a 14 year old girl already sucks, but being one with such friend problems is even worse. I didn't have this kind of problem when I was in school. It did take me awhile to find my way, be who I was and not worry about what anyone else thought, but I got there around the age J is now. I think she may have gotten there too.
She's come to the end of her time at that school and cannot wait to get out. A new school, potential new friends, and some of the bitches are going to a different school. A new beginning for her. The school had the graduation ceremony and a reception following. She didn't want to go, she owed these kids nothing. But her mom and dad didn't want her to miss out on it so she was made to go. With only 23 students graduating, the parents were to bring their child up to the church altar to be presented as a graduate. One parent could speak and then the graduate got to speak. I watched as one by one, the girls that turned this beautiful girl into a sad and lonely child went up to the altar and said similar things, "My time at this school has strengthened my relationship with God and has made me the person I am today." Sitting there in the back of the church with my dad, which is another tale for another day, my mind wandered ... "made you the person you are today? And what would that be? A mean spirited little bitch?" I had brief glimmers of feeling bad for thinking that way while in church, but my love for J is more powerful than thinking a curse word in church.
And then it was time for J to go up. My brother and sister in law went up to the altar with her and presented her. And then J took the mic. What came out of her was stunning and beautiful and in essence a big fat fuck you to every one of those girls. She started out with one of my all time favorite quotes by Dr. Seuss, “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.” From there she went on to say how her time at that school has taught her what a true friend is, and a true friend is not someone who cares how you look or what you wear, but is someone you can tell all you secrets to and they will never judge you. With tears rolling down my face, it was all I could do to restrain myself from jumping up and down and screaming from the back of the church, "you tell them J!!!"
I made sure to tell her how proud I was of her. How much I loved what she said and how no matter what, her auntie will always be there for her. She's beautiful, inside and out. And while I'm not a fan of this particular singer, I leave you with this song today because it conveys the emotions I feel and my love for J.
She's a great kid, all around. But for some reason, she never, in 9 years at that school (she also went to kindergarten there) made a friend. She's a bit shy but for some reason the kids at her school never accepted her and with only about 11 girls in her whole class, once friendships were established that was that. Those friendships were established in kindergarten. She has, at times, eaten lunch in the office because she has no one to sit with. When she does venture the cafeteria, she is ignored. She was never included in any way. The stupid ass school did nothing about this disgusting treatment. Of course what you expect from a Catholic school. They sweep everything under the rug.
A few weeks ago it was her birthday. And at her school, on a students birthday the kids decorate the birthday kids locker and desk. J went to school that morning and was greeted with nothing. No decorations anywhere. The only kid in her class who did not receive this special treatment for her birthday. And she was devastated. Being a 14 year old girl already sucks, but being one with such friend problems is even worse. I didn't have this kind of problem when I was in school. It did take me awhile to find my way, be who I was and not worry about what anyone else thought, but I got there around the age J is now. I think she may have gotten there too.
She's come to the end of her time at that school and cannot wait to get out. A new school, potential new friends, and some of the bitches are going to a different school. A new beginning for her. The school had the graduation ceremony and a reception following. She didn't want to go, she owed these kids nothing. But her mom and dad didn't want her to miss out on it so she was made to go. With only 23 students graduating, the parents were to bring their child up to the church altar to be presented as a graduate. One parent could speak and then the graduate got to speak. I watched as one by one, the girls that turned this beautiful girl into a sad and lonely child went up to the altar and said similar things, "My time at this school has strengthened my relationship with God and has made me the person I am today." Sitting there in the back of the church with my dad, which is another tale for another day, my mind wandered ... "made you the person you are today? And what would that be? A mean spirited little bitch?" I had brief glimmers of feeling bad for thinking that way while in church, but my love for J is more powerful than thinking a curse word in church.
And then it was time for J to go up. My brother and sister in law went up to the altar with her and presented her. And then J took the mic. What came out of her was stunning and beautiful and in essence a big fat fuck you to every one of those girls. She started out with one of my all time favorite quotes by Dr. Seuss, “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.” From there she went on to say how her time at that school has taught her what a true friend is, and a true friend is not someone who cares how you look or what you wear, but is someone you can tell all you secrets to and they will never judge you. With tears rolling down my face, it was all I could do to restrain myself from jumping up and down and screaming from the back of the church, "you tell them J!!!"
I made sure to tell her how proud I was of her. How much I loved what she said and how no matter what, her auntie will always be there for her. She's beautiful, inside and out. And while I'm not a fan of this particular singer, I leave you with this song today because it conveys the emotions I feel and my love for J.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
That Big Ass LTD
It was the spring of 1987. Things were good. I was happily dating R who I was crazy about. I was regularly hanging out with friends, going to shows, getting hammered and basically creating chaos and mayhem whenever possible. One night me, R and our friend M, owner of that big ass LTD, decided to head over to Kent to catch a band. JB's Down was a regular haunt of ours. JB's Down, the place of legend and warm Rolling Rock or Stroh's. I regularly smuggled in my own alcohol because the choices left much to be desired. They either never caught on or didn't care. It had maybe 10 tables that were all off kilter and assorted chairs and then what looked like church pews in the back. The bathrooms were the most disgusting ever. But they had a big stage and it was in Kent, a college town, so bands played there regularly.
On this particular night, we got to JB's and met up with Butthole (the aforementioned Butthole that used to regularly stay at my apartment) and J. J, M and Butthole were having a hell of time pounding beers that night and R and I... well, we were feeling frisky so we headed outside to M's car. The beauty of a big ass car is that big ass back seat. After we got in and were fooling around a little, I suddenly felt something uncomfortable on my back. Reaching under myself, I pulled a billy club out from under me. Things are about to get interesting! At the time M was working part time as a security officer. We couldn't help but wonder what else was lurking around this giant car. So we started looking and what did we find under the seat? Handcuffs. Game on! R wasted no time and handcuffed me to the door handle before I knew what was going on. To say that being handcuffed and at his mercy was fucking fantastic would be an understatement. But alas, neither of us had come prepared for some down and dirty fleshy fun time so while fun was being had by all, we did have to hold back some. That is until R had the brilliant idea to look in M's glove compartment. I have to hand it to M, that boy was prepared! Inside that glove compartment was a whole box of condoms. Oh yes. Did I say we had to hold back? Well not for long! That was probably one of the best times I ever had in a car in my life. And luckily, we also found the keys to the cuffs.
After awhile, with two big shit eating grins on our faces, we wobbled back towards JB's to see how M was doing. What we were met with was Butthole and J carrying M out of the bar. M was thoroughly hammered and couldn't even walk. He very recently filled me in on a little exchange that happened between him and J at this point. J: "So sorry M. So sorry I drank you under the table." M: "Fuck you J, just get me to my car."
R and I took M from there and got him back to the car where he immediately passed out in the back seat, the same back seat that was so recently used for a much more interesting purpose. Turns out M didn't know about that until very recently. Thanks M, thanks for letting me fuck in your car and play with your toys. That car will forever hold a special place in the cockles of my heart.
So, R took the wheel and I kept an eye on M to make sure he was OK. That is until he hurled all over the back seat of his car. Not good. And he hurled all over his rent a cop uniform! Making a 45 minute drive with hurl in the car and a moaning and groaning friend is not fun. Not fun at all. But what choice did we have? We got M home and in his parents house and because we were such great friends, we left the car as is so he could clean up the hurl the next day. It's a lesson everyone needs to learn at least once, right M?
On this particular night, we got to JB's and met up with Butthole (the aforementioned Butthole that used to regularly stay at my apartment) and J. J, M and Butthole were having a hell of time pounding beers that night and R and I... well, we were feeling frisky so we headed outside to M's car. The beauty of a big ass car is that big ass back seat. After we got in and were fooling around a little, I suddenly felt something uncomfortable on my back. Reaching under myself, I pulled a billy club out from under me. Things are about to get interesting! At the time M was working part time as a security officer. We couldn't help but wonder what else was lurking around this giant car. So we started looking and what did we find under the seat? Handcuffs. Game on! R wasted no time and handcuffed me to the door handle before I knew what was going on. To say that being handcuffed and at his mercy was fucking fantastic would be an understatement. But alas, neither of us had come prepared for some down and dirty fleshy fun time so while fun was being had by all, we did have to hold back some. That is until R had the brilliant idea to look in M's glove compartment. I have to hand it to M, that boy was prepared! Inside that glove compartment was a whole box of condoms. Oh yes. Did I say we had to hold back? Well not for long! That was probably one of the best times I ever had in a car in my life. And luckily, we also found the keys to the cuffs.
After awhile, with two big shit eating grins on our faces, we wobbled back towards JB's to see how M was doing. What we were met with was Butthole and J carrying M out of the bar. M was thoroughly hammered and couldn't even walk. He very recently filled me in on a little exchange that happened between him and J at this point. J: "So sorry M. So sorry I drank you under the table." M: "Fuck you J, just get me to my car."
R and I took M from there and got him back to the car where he immediately passed out in the back seat, the same back seat that was so recently used for a much more interesting purpose. Turns out M didn't know about that until very recently. Thanks M, thanks for letting me fuck in your car and play with your toys. That car will forever hold a special place in the cockles of my heart.
So, R took the wheel and I kept an eye on M to make sure he was OK. That is until he hurled all over the back seat of his car. Not good. And he hurled all over his rent a cop uniform! Making a 45 minute drive with hurl in the car and a moaning and groaning friend is not fun. Not fun at all. But what choice did we have? We got M home and in his parents house and because we were such great friends, we left the car as is so he could clean up the hurl the next day. It's a lesson everyone needs to learn at least once, right M?
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