Wait, there’s more…

I don’t know why I keep saying that I’ve been here eight years, it’s more like seven. 

So I have to go back down to immigration next week and we’re all set. That is a heartache. Kiss the cash goodbye, and I’m not even a good cause.  Also my foot hurts. 

So I’ve touched base with my old friends, lost touch with them when I acquired some internet stalkers. When I showed back up my friends were happy to see me and I was told it was very clear what was going on and they understand my privacy concerns from this point forward. But mostly we’re talking about Vegas plans. More friends than I thought would come are coming and some can’t make it for the wedding so we’re going to party in Vegas that weekend preceding. Watch out. I already warned Mark that if so and so comes, just be prepared. We’ll spend more time together later, like after leaving Vegas, but I will be occupied with my wild friends. It will be a great time. I don’t want him to feel left out or be shocked at how we are so fair warnings are being given. 

Mom went to a packers game the other day, so waiting to hear about that. My sister in law posts pictures of my brother’s baby girl on my page, she is sooooooooooooooo cute. I cannot even believe she is in our family. I don’t think my mom appreciates when I make those jokes. Oh well. Loosen up ma, we’re not the best looking people. Well my brother is kind of good looking, but… 

So now I’m just waiting for my foot to get better, and then I’m going to hustle packing things. We really don’t have anything to take, I’m leaving it all here. We don’t even really have clothes. We need to go thrift store shopping when I get there. 

I spent awhile after my dad died crying every day and having break downs. It is getting easier. I feel robbed of my time with him. Mark and I had already planned on our honeymoon in Santa Barbara making sure that dad was taken care of. There were some things we had to get done in that department, but other people have stepped in and taken care of it, so now when we’re there, we’ll just stay at the house and get it ready for being a rental. I have to do stuff with his bank accounts, and the trust, and BLECH, but we knew the honey moon would be more than walks on the beach and would include some serious bizness. 

I got an urn that I’m sure dad would have picked out himself, it has Sand Cranes on it, and it’s enamel, oriental looking. NOT TSA approved though, so we’ll be shipping that. Thankfully I have an attorney in San Diego working on all kinds of details. My dad used to be a lawyer, and his friend stepped in to help. My dad didn’t have many friends, but the ones he does, wow. 

I was looking up one of his old flames, to see if I might tell her that dad passed. (Don’t know if I would.) and I found out that her and her husband write for the RAND corporation (foundation? Whatever that think tank is). Yes, she was married the whole time they were having an affair, and yes, I was told that her husband was some important government related type person internationally renown etc. But I found out he had written things that advised Henry Kissinger, for one. Anyway, things I had heard as a teen that sounded nebulous at best became real in a very surreal way. This was a very interesting woman. Of course they met… through Bridge. She nabbed the best partner she could. She wanted to win those tourney’s dammit! I just remember being a teenager living poor in the Midwest and going to visit my dad near Malibu and being driven around by his girlfriend in a convertible Mercedes, taking me shopping in the Sherman Oaks galleria. Her house was really interesting, each room was round, and the staircases were on the outside only. At one point it was in Architectural Digest. Because of her, I got to go to Hawaii. She had a place there. But… I don’t know if she wants to hear about an ex, esp when it was an affair. Her husband is long passed, and even at the time he might have known about it, but I don’t know. Another memory, the place my dad lived, the apartment was owned by her. That was one of his nicest ones in my opinion. 

Memory lane was a bit hard on me last week, and like I said, surreal. But the rand corp? How evil. Shiver. My dad is not like that. He’s like Paul Simon, not Henry Kissinger. But hey wimminz is wimminz. 

I know I’m going to have a blast beyond recounting in Las Vegas, but I can’t wait to get on the beach in Santa Barbara again. We’re going to eat at the restaurant out on the pier at sunset. Actually I’m going to try to make a video of it. I’m going to see the botanical gardens again, and visit the zoo and the natural history museum. For some reason that museum with all the taxidermy and quiet echoing clean and open space seems romantic to me and every time I thought of getting married when I was younger, I thought of going there with whoever it was. I know Mark will love it. We might go down to the Getty Museum in LA, too. Mark wanted to, and that’s my dad’s favorite museum, and who knows when I’ll be back that way. But yes, we’re definitely taking the hwy1 drive up north, too. We’ll probably stay in Morro Bay. For some reason I love Morro Bay. It’s a little nothing place, but I used to drive up there all the time. 

All right. I’m off. Back to playing bridge on my PC. I regret not having dad to answer some of my questions. But there are plenty of resources out there. The ladies that were there helping him until he died are going to be around for me to meet when I get there, and I think we’ll take out the card table and that will be my first live game of bridge. My dad would have loved that. 


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