Your mission..if you choose to accept it...

DUN DUN DUN

Well.. it is not as serious as I may be making it sound. But any sort of over-dramatization humors me.

Teehee.

My closest friend is going through a rough patch, a desert journey which can leave someone bitter and dry. Emphasis on the bitter. bitter. Ha. Perhaps bitter is not the word, but easily aggravated quite suits them. So I decided to be a good little friendy friend, and attempt to create a feeling of specialness which in turn would make it known to her that she is cared for.

After hanging out with a friend of mine that recently re-became my friend (odd I know, yet, when am I anything but!) at 3:30 in the morning, I decide to go to my friendly neighborhood Wal-Mart in BFE. The grocery list?

- One sunflower

- One greeting card with butterfly

- One plushy koala bear

These are her three favorite things.. (well not the greeting card, but the butterfly on the it!) Good thing I am a student of Fraulein Maria who became a part of the Von Trapp family, or... at least.. so says "The sound of music." You know that song that says:

When the dog bites

When the bee stings

When I'm feeling sad

Then I remember my favorite things

Then I don't feel soooooo bad

Woefully, I learn that the gardening department is closed. (game show loser jingle): wahwahwaahwaahwaahwaaaah. Sigh. So I searched for fake flowers. I looked first in the arts in crafts... dumdumdydumdum... nope. I looked in the sewing department... nada. I end up roaming the store looking through whatever ever aisle category came to mind: bedding, home decorations, etc. By this time I was thoroughly exhausted. It was 4:30am. Night night time for ordinary people, but who needs to be like that! Bah. So I decided I would forego the search for the time being to look for the right greeting card.

Apparently, if the world ran out of greeting cards tomorrow Wal-mart would be the red-cross for desperate people in need of inspiration, or perhaps just desperate. FOUR whole walls of JUST greeting cards. You would think that I would be able to find at least one with a butterfly, right? No. I was in there for over thirty minutes, scanning through every single category: birthday, love, thinking of you, get better soon, anniversary, etc. no-thing. I was ready to take my happy little derriere to the car and vamoose out of there, I was defeated. It felt as if my dial -- previously on hardcore, was taken down quire a few notches. I decided to take a peak at the more frugal section, the only ones I had ignored. Lo and behold, there it was. Two of them infact. Ridiculous.

Next on my task sheet, Koala bear. I headed over to the toy department, scanning for stuffed animals. Ah-ha! I had found them, one tiny little corner shelf way up high... hrmm.. this doesn't look too good.. First I pulled out a monkey, then a duck, a bear! Oh.. panda bear. meh. Oooo, what is this? Grey. Bear-like physique. Is it?.... It is! Scored on the first shot. What a turn of luck! Oh wait... it's a webkinz.. For those who have not caught onto the webkinz craze, let me explain my frustration.

These stuffed animals are not special in anyway. They don not use real animal skin, the thread is not made out of gold, nor is it water proof. It is a regular old stuffed animal. Yet they are priced at a minimum of fifteen dollars. As the mischevious Mindy from Steven Spielberg's "Animaniacs" used to say: "But why?" It is because it contains one teensy little difference from a "regular" stuffed animal... You can go online and name it. Wow. Now that's a good a reason as any to triple the price on a hand-sized bear if I ever heard one! Come on people! Have our senses of imagination been so skewed that now we need to hop onto the internet, and burn our precious little retinas in order to interact with the stuffed animals we hold and own in our own hands? Somebody stop me!

Ahem

So, I remained with Sir Webkins and marched on back to the gardening department, I thought to myself, maybe I had left prematurely. As I entered the gardening area I notice they have a rack of seeds, and even sunflower seeds! I thought to myself, perhaps this could be my redemption, better than nothing I suppose. A lot of other nonsense happens afterwards, looking for fake sunflowers (there were none). Then trying to find a fake flower that looked somewhat like a sunflower. Then look at cheap store white wine, because I am a HUGE wino in the making. Thankfully my budget keeps me far away from achieving that goal. Then going back to the toy department and analyzing every single toy on the shelf with a microscope in the hopes there would be at least an ameoba sized koala bear hidden within one of the many boxes there. But, to no avail. It was 5:45am and I was done for. Time to head to the check out! Three items in two hours and fifteen minutes. That's pretty good time management if I do say so my self! And I do.. so there.

Beep...

Beep...

Ruffle Ruffle...

Cha-ching...

Thank you for shopping at Wal-mart

Thanks, Good night! err.. Morning!

Now, for those of you who kept a watchful eye on what I previously wrote, there were only two beeps. Does this mean something? Yes. It means I put myself through more torture and pain by choosing not to purchace the koala bear. What can I say? I'm a perfectionist. And that the excuse I'm using so people will be non-judemental towards me to my face.

I head on over to the CVS neighboring Wal-mart... nothing. Finding a cute little white polar bear that lights up, I debated whether or not I should comprimise with my previously set goal. In a moment of delirium I thought to myself, maybe I could say on the card, "like this bear you make the room light up"... eh. Too corny. So I decide to go over to her place and hoped that maybe I would find a Wal-greens or CVS open for 24 hours. As I'm heading over I realize there is a Wal-greens 20 blocks down, and decided to take a gander at it. I arrive...

cricket cricket

Just my luck. It is closed. Ha. The score?

Koala: 3
Me: 0

Darn you koala bear! This was getting to be harder than the experts edition of "Where's Waldo?" and making me more and more unappetized towards the search. But this mission was not about me, so I pressed foward.

As I get to her house, I decided to keep going down the road, perhaps I would stumble upon one of the stores I needed. Lo and behold, a 24 hour CVS where I least expected! Exhausted, I drove in quickly, threw my keys in my purse and rushed in. As I walked over to the toy section, I crossed my fingers hoping I'd find something, anything resembling a koala. Buzzer: Eeenk.The closest thing? A grey fluffy owl. I was so desperate, that for a few seconds I was considering cutting off its beak and making fake fingers so it would resemble that which seemed unattainable to me now. That was it. I had finally given up. After all that driving.. oh well. As I reached the front of the store, the lone cashier asked me what I was looking for. My first instinct was to leave it be and tell him it was ok, I didn't need any help. Using up my last drop of hope I went against my melancholic state and in a pouty voice I replied, a kola bear. He then told me in a think indian accent, Oh BEER? We have bottle of beer in back. Realizing he had misheard me, I repeated myself, to which he replied, Oh no, if not in back, not have it. That was it, the true end of my journey, time to head on over --

What's that?

As I had shook my head in the acceptance of my defeat, something had caught my eye halfway through the blink. Was it? Could it really beeeeeeee? Yes! It was! The last stuffed koala bear on a key chain leftover from the passed valentine's day. This man was my savior. The store roof ripped open shining down a beam from heaven turning dusk into dawn. Que the angelic choir.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Can you hear it? I could. I jumped up and down in ecstacy, then slowed down from the lightheadedness only a good night's sleeplessness can bring. Thanked him numerous times and exited the store. I headed back to her house and did the following, all shown to you with the help of my handy-dandy camera phone. bawr bawr-bawr bawr!

The end!

Bitter is not the word

So, at the moment I am a very broke person (I know.. who in this country isn't?). I have to take two sets of antibiotics over the period of a week in order to wipe out the bacterial infection that has been invading my body over the course of the past two to three weeks. One of the antibiotics Metronidazole (Flagyl?) was cheap enough for me to afford on my own, however the other, Azithromycin (zithromax, Z-pack, etc.) is somewhat expensive for me purchase, and will eat into my rent money that I still haven't fully accumulated. 

So I decided to get out of my comfort zone...

Way out of my comfort zone.

I asked my mother if she had any Azi-medication left over from a previous prescription. She told me she'd check and then get back to me. This is somewhat how it went:

Call #1: (me): ma, do you have it?

            (her): let me check... I'll call you back

tap tap tap

.... 5 hours later ....

Call #2: phone rings 

    (me): hello?

    (her): yeah.. I have it. but you have to come pick it up

    (me): ok, sure. no problem. I'll pay you for whatever is left.

    (her): ok, I'll let you know when you can come over

    (me): alrighty then, thanks. bye.

two minutes later

Call #3: phone rings

    (me): yes?

    (her): okay, yes I have it.

    (me): uh-huhh......

    (her): but --

    (me): but what? you want me to pay for it? I already said

             I would, so what's the problem?

    (her): no. that's not it. It is going to sound weird, 

            but I want you to take it over here

    (me): take what over there? the medicine?

    (her): yes.

 

sccccriiiitchhhhhhhh   

    

This was the sound of the fabric of my mind ripping apart from the sheer ridiculousness of her demands, and how utterly perturbed I just became. My. Mother. Just. Went. Insane. was all that narrated.

ziiiiiiiiiiiip

back to reality...

    

    (me): EVERY single dose???????

    (her): yes, I know it might sound --

    (me): ok ok, fine. I'll take it front of you. You can check

            under my tongue too make sure I didn't stash it

    (her): rye chuckle. You can come over at 8:30 tonight

    (me): ok. I'll see you later.

    (her): ok. bye.

I was currently with a friend, and we were both planning on hanging out together late into the night, so she tagged along with me to my familial excursion. We both headed in and were immediately turned dumb and blind. You could hardly see anything past my mother's beaming smile and constant laughter at virtually everything that came out of anyone's mouth. I was living a scene out of Philip Kaufman's "Invasion of the body snatchers." My spidey senses were tingling! I was -- well... you get the point. 

All I could think was: where did my mother go?

Her opaque state of fakeness only made me more nauseous than the pills I was already taking. Only for an infinitesimal part of a second did I think, hmm... I wonder if she's actually become pleasant.... But only for a second! I was able to place my temporary short circuited thought where it belonged, hidden in a nice deep dark damp corner in the recesses of my mind when I visited her the day after all on my own. To which -- by the way, she specified to be another term of our exchange via a text I received at 3:29 this afternoon:

I don't want you asking people for

rides to the house every day

If you want I can meet you

somewhere (eg. FIU) and bring

the medicine. I will be working

there anyway.

My reaction: Wow.

Just wow. 

I wanted to recant my beforehand statement that I would accept her odd (to say the least) demands. Yet I still went over because she had the upper hand, and well the only hand in the game. If this was high stakes poker, the only thing I would hold was a single lowly 2 of hearts, while she would hold a royal flush... in diamonds. Her behavior the entire time I was there resembled that of an ailing banshee, screaming and hissing wherever she flew. I went for my daily dose of antibiotics, but what I got was a daily dose of Methusa's rage (not a banshee, I know but.. eh!). I swear if I could paint an accurate depiction of how she looked throughout the ordeal, it would look something like this:

 

Scary? Honey, you don't know the half of it.

After an hour, her reign of terror ended only because she was called 

back to the bat cave from whence my father came. Which left me a 

few minutes to enjoy my many brothers and sisters. Mostly my little 

sister Amy who movesher hands as if she were wearing a silly old 

sock puppet while a song is playing because as she so adorably 

says, the birdies (her hands) have to sing! She told me to do the 

same in order to have the "Mommy" birdies (my hands) sing with 

the "Baby" birdies (her hands). I just wanted to squish her little 

head off, she was just too cute! Ahh.. I missed her.

I really felt the urge to leave after they all started tearing my purse 

apart because they saw a little plastic bag with miniature chocolate 

candy. It was time to bolt. I was no longer in Miami, Florida, no -- I 

was in Pamploma, Spain. It was the festival of San Fermin, I was 

El torro and they were all runners at Encierro, and I had to fight for 

my life. Except, unlike the bull, I had no horns to protect me from 

their high pitched screams and clawing hands, only my two feet -- 

as long as they were not stepping on them. I made it to the car. I 

could breathe. 

Exhale. 

God I love those kids!

All in all, the visit was normal. As normal as you can get in my 

parents house. I have to go back there again tomorrow, so we 

will see how that goes.

It is getting late... so goodnight all!