Archive for April, 2008

Another plus: He can get that nose ring he’s always wanted

Cancer.  It’s an ugly, frightening word and even uglier still when it’s associated with someone you love.  Unless that someone you love is my 82 year old grandfather…my Abuelito  chooses to look Ugly and Frightening in the face and, instead of running and crying, he craftily slips a whoopee cushion onto their seat and a fake pile of plastic poo onto their dinner plate.  That’s how he rolls.  And he called me today to tell me about it:

Abuelito:  Hola, mi doctora!!!

La Cubana Gringa:  Hi Abuelito!  

Abuelito:  I’m calling you to tell you I have cancer!!  Ha!

LCG:  WHAT??

Abuelito:  Oh, the dermatologist found a little something on my nose.  No big deal.  He’s going to whack it out in a couple weeks.

LCG:  Well, what kind of cancer is it?

Abuelito:  Oh, I don’t know.  Can’t remember the name.  

LCG:  Well, it’s important to know!  There are several different types and all of them have different prognoses.

Abuelito:  Well, start naming all the skin cancers you know and I’ll tell you if any of them sound familiar.

LCG:  Well, there’s Basal Cell Carcinoma and Squamous Cell Carcinoma and Melanoma…and then there are things like Seborrheic Kerratoses or Acanthomas that are usually benign…

Abuelito:  Yeah, it’s one of those whatchamaloma’s. 

LCG:  Abuelito…they ALL end in “-oma” come on!  Some of these metastasize…they can get into your liver or your lungs…this is serious!

Abuelito:  No, no no…don’t worry mi doctora!  My cancer hasn’t metastasized!

LCG:  Oh yeah?  How do you know?

Abuelito:  Have you SEEN the size of my nose!  There’s no way it’s gotten through that thing!*

LCG:  …

Abuelito:  Listen.  Don’t worry.  Look on the bright side…if they have to cut a big hole out of my nose…it’ll be an improvement!  One more hole to breathe through! 

*  As you can imagine, this highly scientific hypothesis of his didn’t satisfy my need to know his diagnosis.  I’m going to call his doctor first thing in the morning.  Let’s all pray for Basal Cell. 

UPDATE:  Our prayers worked!  It IS, indeed, Basal Cell Carcinoma…invades locally but rarely ever metastasizes.  Phew!  I’m going shopping for celebratory nose rings right now!

Hey! It would eliminate the cake-cutting fee!

Now is about the time when it would be good to know a cake maker who owed me a favor.  Preferably a three-tiered, chocolate ganache-covered favor.  Because you know what?  Wedding cakes are FUCKING EXPENSIVE!  I chuckled dismissively when the first cake maker I consulted quoted me a price of $6 per serving.  Surely, she couldn’t be serious?  Turns out, she was serious.  And, also, she’d rather that I didn’t call her Shirley. 

Shirley is not alone.  Apparently, $5 to $9 per serving is the going rate for wedding cakes these days in the bay area.  And that’s not including any additional tacky marzipan flowers or doo-dads you might want on there.  Nor does it include the taxes, the delivery fees, OR the set-up fees.  It DOES, however, include the premium, penthouse suite at the Omni Hotel in which your cake maker plans to take the absurd amount of cash she just ripped from your white-knuckled hands, pile it high onto the king sized bed, and roll around in it.  While laughing maniacally at you behind your back.  And spraying accessory bottles of Dom Perignon around in celebration.  

Just for shits and giggles…let’s do the math:  $7 times 150 guests is…let me see here…zero…carry the three…tack on the ten…A LOT OF FUCKING MONEY!  For cake!  Which…last time I checked, is made of flour.  And eggs.  And sugar.  Did I miss the memo that went around mandating that from here on out, premium, organic California-grown heroin should be a staple cake ingredient?  Because that would sure explain a LOT.  (Particularly the euphoria I get when I eat cake.  And the strong urge to take a nap when I come down from it.  And, also, the itching.)  

I have a mind to buy out Costco’s supply of Jello chocolate pudding cups and serve THOSE at our wedding.  Peel back the foil lid, stick a flower1 in it and…TADAHHHH!  Wedding pudding!  

 

1.  I don’t know, though, “wedding” flowers aren’t cheap either.

It’s not like they’re endangered or anything…GOD

Have you ever been faced with the uncomfortable sensation that the person you’re talking to can’t seem to make eye-contact with anything but your boobies?  Cuz I sure get that all the time…

 

A lesson that can be applied in many of life’s circumstances

Overheard in the supermarket today…

Mother to her son: Jeffrey! Don’t! Do not…(SIGH)…If you…JEFFREY!! IF YOU PUT YOUR MOUTH ON THAT, YOU NEED TO BUY IT!

Ain’t that the truth.

This does kinda explain the gentle yet powerful authority with which He speaks

I was going through the household mail the other day, separating out each of the roommates’ mail into their designated slots, and I came across the latest copy of Spin Magazine addressed to this guy (with one of my roommates’ last names) at OUR address:

Who knew one of my flatmates was the very embodiment and earthly manifestation of the son of God!?  And furthermore, that He is all up to speed on what Death Cab for Cutie and My Morning Jacket are up to these days!? (Rock on, Jesus!!)  Perhaps we shouldn’t move out of this blessed house after all!

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you my engineer boyfriend

It truly baffles the mind that The Brit, who is presumably familiar with the laws of physics, doesn’t seem to comprehend that a hot pizza, when carried like a book under one arm, will react thusly to the forces of gravity:

All in all, it was far more complimentary than that time she told me I was a “good eater”

The other day I got quite a lovely card from The Brit’s Mum, Lulu, who lives in the far away land of England where we don’t get to see her nearly as much as we’d like. She wrote the card to me on the anniversary of her daughter, Dani’s, untimely death and said many wonderful things about how she’s certain that Dani and I would have gotten along very well. That I am like a ray of sunshine and they’re very happy to have me joining the family. And, in a gesture of generosity and thoughtfulness that I’m beginning to see is not uncommon to The Brit’s family, she offered to buy my wedding bouquet for me in memory of Dani who she said would have “surely been out to catch it with some US hunk in mind.”

I know I usually write about the shits and giggles of life on here, but this was just too sweet not to document. Here’s to having a mother-in-law who will surely rank higher than cheese on my list of favorite things! And Dani, if you’re reading this in heaven (surely they have wifi up there?), know that you’ll very much be with us in spirit on our wedding day…as you are every other day of the year. xoxo


Hark!

The madness featured here is mine and mine alone. It does not, in any way, reflect the madness of my employers, colleagues, patients, nutty family, or my colorful friends. The privacy of my employers, colleagues, patients, nutty family and colorful friends is sacred & deeply respected, so no names. All words Copyright © la cubana gringa, no method, just madness 2006-2010. All comments © their authors. Don't steal; it's not nice. (And my Grandfather knows people.)

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