Monthly Archives: April 2009

Octomom Birthday Party

Andrea is having a birthday party for her eight children.  It’s less like a party and more like a detention center for people displaced due to a natural disaster. There are Port-a-Potties stationed outside the house and everything is dirty and disorganized. It’s like a war zone.

The party goes late into the night and I decide it’s time to leave. I look for my bag but I’m having trouble finding it. They have luggage carts where everyone’s bags are stored, and I have to dig around in a jumble of other people’s stuff to find mine.

I find the hostess to say goodbye and ask which of the many children has a birthday today. She says that all the kids share the same birthday, and I realize she is the octomom. I realize how sad it would be to grow up one of eight and not even have a birthday of your own.

Late for a Meeting

I have a meeting at 10am, and I’m a bit anxious about making it there on time. I dont want to be late.

When I wake up, though, I learn that I have to go to a funeral for Evan’s mother. It is a bit unusual, though, because she isn’t actually dead. She decided that she wanted to have her funeral while she was still alive, so that she could enjoy the party. People whisper and gossip about this, because they think it’s inappropriate to attend your own funeral.

The funeral is lavish and there’s lots of different food. But I’m constantly checking my watch because I know I need to get to my meeting. I call the person I’m supposed to be meeting with at 10:30 and explain I’m at a funeral. Then I wonder why I didn’t just do that in the first place.

Grandma’s Possessions

My mother tells me we are going to have brunch with my family — her brothers and sisters — on Saturday morning. She tells me that brunch is at 8 so I should wake up at 7 or even 6:30. I tell her that’s not brunch, it’s breakfast, and it’s too early. She gets annoyed with me and insists that I go.

The following morning we get in the car and drive, but instead of getting breakfast, we stop at a store on the side of the road. Inside, all of my grandmother’s things have been arranged like it’s a store, and my family members are going through them all, looking for things they want. My mother tells me that I should look through her belongings and select some things that I want.

There are many beautiful things in there and I want to spend some time looking through them all carefully. But my mother is impatient because she’s already been through the items and she doesn’t want to stand around. I feel anxious and pressured to choose things quickly. I’m trying to find some items that I can remember my grandmother by.