Who’s this Heimlich Maneuver man, anyway?

If the title of this post is a little odd, it’s because my mother said it.  I hope you all had an amazing Mother’s Day, filled with love and respect and adoration of your mommies.  I had only one thing on my mind when I was picking out a present for Miss Kathy, and it consists of three words: Friday. Night. Lights.  The woman is obsessed.  I came in from a night with friends last Friday to find Mom sitting in front of the TV, face glazed over, eyes penetrating the screen like a death laser from Neptune.  Clearly, no conversation would get through to this woman.  She was lost in the moment.  And by moment, naturally I mean Tim Riggins.  Dad thinks it’s insane that my mother is in love with this show, because, in his words “He could be with your Mom, since he’s like a 40 year old playing a highschool student!” For the record: Taylor Kitsch is 28.  Also for the record: Taylor Kitsch is my husband, so Mom should just step off if she knows what’s good for her.  That includes my sister, Jenna.  I’m watching you both.

The past three weeks have been stressful, but in the end it’s all about family.  I will not go into the details because this blog should be about lighthearted things from now on (considering I’m meeting the President again next week, life could be so, so much worse), but my family has been dealing with a few things that aren’t pretty and aren’t very light.  We have come together on the other side, stronger and more committed to each other than ever.  As far as my own health issues go, all is well.  There is nothing so wrong a little lactose restriction can’t fix.  🙂
Another thing that is beyond value? Friendship.  After a particularly trying morning a few weeks ago, I reached out to my best friend, Connie (there’s your monthly shoutout, Connie girl).  Without question and without hesitation, she came driving over to my house and we spent two hours hanging out and laughing.  My problems were still there, but the clouds weren’t so dark.  It helps when your best friend lives three minutes away.  We’ve timed it.
Something I’ve been doing quite a bit of is reading.  Since I’m attending school in the fall, I need to bone up on my classic literature, or at least literature I should be familiar with.  I blazed through Watership Down in three days.  If you have not read that book, go out and buy it or borrow it from the library in your town right now.  It is heartrending and stunning.  I was not expecting to be so moved by a story that, when pared down, is basically The Odyssey with rabbits.  I tried to explain my now-powerful connection to rabbits with my family, but they looked at me as if I myself had turned into El-ahrairah after the Black Rabbit took away his ears and tail.  “They’re RABBITS!” my sister shrieked at me after I expressed disbelief at her statement that, given a gun, she would shoot them (they’re ripping up her lawn).  
My brother has commandeered the televisions now that he’s home from school.  He got a bone shaved down in his foot, so he’s been laid up and watching Criminal Minds on repeat (he ordered us to go out and get the DVDs, and of course we obliged for the cripple in our midst).  After watching several episodes, I must say that I’m a willing and loyal convert to the cult.  Is it gross? Sometimes.  Is it creepy as hell? Um, always.  But what keeps me watching are Reid and Garcia.  Reid, for his fascinating puzzled look and his way of always putting everything together before everyone else-and also, the way he goes off on a subject until the other person in the conversation literally has to walk away to get him to shut up, which is very much something I do.  And Garcia…I mean, come on.  She IS the show.  Prentice is awesome, but without Garcia the show would be just another police procedural, albeit with a little more viscera.  A good chunk of my time watching the show is spent wondering what Garcia’s outfit/hair/hairclips are going to look like, and then the rest of the show is spent enjoying her banter/affection with Agent Morgan.  Wouldn’t you want to banter with him? And do other things? If you say no, you’re a filthy liar.
You may have noticed that I was absent from this blog for about a month.  I didn’t do this on purpose.  Life simply gets busy and updating a blog takes time.  I also had to step away for a little bit after I got eviscerated on a message board (you know which one) for living through my parents, and my formspring got attacked by trolls who thought a) I had emotional issues and b) I was a spoiled waste of space.
The other day, I drove through a small neighborhood in my town, and happened upon the house I first lived in, before the team began to get big and before the craziness started.  I stared at the one story house.  In that house our pet cat, Chipsy, gave birth in a dresser drawer.  We lived next to a fire station where I got to sit in a truck, and a highlight of my afternoons was eating lemon cookies with the octogenarian who lived down the street.  His name, I believe, was Joe.  In that house, I slept on the floor on a mattress, because I kept crawling out of the crib.  We held block parties and barbecues.  We were a family, and we still are a family.
I feel sorry for families that are broken, that don’t love each other like my family does.  To quote another Italian mother, we are as thick as thieves.  I have my own life.  But my family is a large, large part of my life.
This summer promises to be quite transformative, just as last summer was.  I’m making plans to move, start another job that should be close to my line of work, continue my college education, and maybe, just maybe, Semi-Veganista will stage a comeback when I have things more exciting to talk about than tofu. 
I plan to grow, and change, and consume life with every ounce of energy that I have.  And I’ve got the best team behind me to get it done…
ally
PS.  My other best friend, Gina, is a culinary whiz.  She’s also dealing with a recent gluten intolerance diagnosis that has drastically changed her diet.  And thanks to my incessant prodding, she’s started a blog to talk about it all.  Watch her journey (and her pastries!) on her new blog, Gluten Free Gina: Footloose and Gluten-Free.  
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One thought on “Who’s this Heimlich Maneuver man, anyway?

  1. Ally, I can't imagine anyone eviscerating you and complaining about your interaction with your family. I'm 72 and thoroughly enjoy reading your blog. My advice to you is to ignore the negative comments because they obviously have serious issues of their own. Keep up the good work and keep writing!
    Mike

    Like

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