Machiabelly's Birthday Gala

(the scene: LCM in the corner booth on the flip phone, calling his slanky friend Cindy)

LCM: (sipping cocktail) Hello? Cindy, darling? (smiling) Oh gosh, sweetie, I've been calling all morning - I keep getting some teen answering - have you had a break in lately? (listening) Oh. Yes. I see. (smiling blankly) Well I think it's grand that you have a teenaged child, darling and he has phone priviledges - how ultra-modern. (patting wig) In any event, if he says anything about a Prince Albert in a can story that turns rather lurid, you can blame Mumsey - I had to freshen up and handed the phone to her and told her to just keep hitting redial. (lips pursed) Well in any event, you can sue all you want, I'm completely penniless, blameless and 20 pounds underweight - and it's all beside the point, darling. (sipping cocktail) I wanted to talk to you about Machiabelly, darling - he's turning 39 this coming Sunday and we need to plan a gala. (icy smile) Of course you're invited - as long as your on the planningcommitee. (pausing) Hmmm? Well if you're not, sweetie, I don't know - the guest list is long and complicated - so many ex's - you couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting someone and enjoying it. Hmmm? No, darling - not your ex's - this is my guest list, not America's Most Wanted. (tossing head back and laughing) Ah-hahahaha! (suddenly glaring) Bitch! My ex's may be a lot of things, but as we both know, none of them photograph well enough to make it on that show. (patting wig) Now let's not fight. I want to bounce some ideas off you, darling - you're my intellectual trampoline. (sipping cocktail) Well I'm wondering what our (using quotey fingers) "theme" should be. 39 is very special age, and it needs to be handled gracefully. (pausing) Well yes I know I've thrown you three or four such parties, darling, but you aren't actually 39 yet, so I can be as mean as I want. But he really is 39, so I have to be nice. (patting wig) Here, just listen to some of my theme ideas then....

LCM's Highly Official "Theme" Ideas For Machiabelly's 39th Birthday Gala

- Big Burning Hellacious Cake Night
- The Celebratory 39 Slaps And Subsequent 911 Call
- Lordy Lordy Look Who's Calling The Local Paper And Threatening To Sue
- A November-December Romance, Machiabelly And Spouse
- Remember These Hookers?
- The Liver Damage Fundraiser, Featuring Cautionary Example Cindy
- Entering The Viagra Zone With Grace And Elan
- Gifts Galore And/Or Dollar Store Inventory Night
- Turning What You Can't Spell Or Count To Night
- Sluts Ahoy!
- To All The Ultra-Vixens I've Known Before
- Prostates Across America
- Senses Working Overtime: TasteThe Doom, Smell The Panic, Pull The Finger
- Super Hairy Megadrunk
- 39? Oh How Careless
- The Black And White And Wrinkley Ball
- Coots-A-Plenty!
- Fumigating Shortly
- LCM Celebrates Some Else's Shocking Birthday

LCM: (vaseline smile) Hmmm? (lips pursed) Oh how rude. Those are all very good ideas, darling. (cross now) I'm hanging up, sweetie - if you can't find it in yourself for a little shaudenfreud, you'll just spoil the party. (patting wig) More so.

Storming Off, Looking Fabulous
LCM

Update LCM

Dearest Darlings

Well it's heading towards the witching hour, sweeties, and I'm just sitting down here at my computer. I felt a need to inject a bit of reality into the proceedings tonight, just to explain perhaps why I'm not slaving away at this blog every night like I planned, promised, and would like.

I don't know how much you all know about my story, darlings, but 2004 has been an absolute and unrelenting bitch to LCM. My father passed away in April and now I am the sole caregiver for my 77 year old mother. The real life Mumsey. In May - on the night of the one month anniversary of Dad's dying - well, she flipped out. Total emotional breakdown. It lead to her being hospitalized for her wildly erratic blood sugars. She's diabetic and greatly troubled by it.

Anyhoo, whilst in the hospital she fell out of bed and broke her hip - which had to be replaced. The operation could and probably should have killed her but it didn't. But gosh she wasn't the same. Even more deeply troubled is how I would describe her. Then she went to the manor. For you Americans, sweeties, that's an old folks home. I guess you don't call them manors down there. That was in mid-July. In mid-August we got her home again, after purchasing a lot of very expensive medical equipment. She was home two weeks and had to go back into the hospital - she was so agitated, she couldn't be cared for. So another couple of weeks in the psych ward and she's home and now it's about two weeks into that.

I'm afraid she's not doing well. Very confused - agitated still - and the doctor says it's not going to get better. It's not Alzheimers, but it's very similar. Basically the diabetes has played havoc with circulation, and part of that is the brain. Dementia is blooming.

So darlings, that's where I am. Most every night I have to sit with her for an hour or two or three in order for her to get to sleep. And it's not all peaches and cream and lovely sitting times - she can be and normally is quite difficult. Deeply troubled. At first I just freaked out - didn't know how to handle her, so I argued- endlessly - tried to use reason - tried to use guilt - tried everything short of the mountain rescue and Rin Tin Tin. But the past few nights I've just had to realize I can't win against this. I have to accept it and make the best of yet one more appalling situation.

So I sit and offer comfort. It's not what I want to do, believe me - but it's what I must do. And I lied. It's also what I want to do, now that I think about it. And when it comes down to it, it's all I *can* do now. She's lost in these fogs, sweeties, and though it breaks my heart, I can't make them go away. All I can do is hold her hand and make the fog less frightening for her.

So that's where I've been, darlings - down the hall, sitting and trying to help my mother. Struggling along as best we can. I don't know how long I'll be able to keep her at home here, but I'm going to do my damnedest to make it as long a time as possible.

I do want to say, however, that every comment you make to the things I do happen to squeeze out is a tonic to me. It means a lot and I want to thank you all. There will be better times - I'm one of those hopeless optimists - and at some point I think this blog will be something really terrific. Just be patient with me, sweeties. I've got a million more fabulous things to say - I know in my heart I do - but if I'm quiet for a few days or a week or two, don't think I've given up. I'm just down the hall, darlings. :-)

Sending Love
LCM