In Honor of George

It is no secret to most of you who know me very well, my father and I had an intricate relationship. Sometimes the only commonality shared between us was our passion for being stubborn and head-strong. It is because of this that we often found ourselves on opposite sides of the fence.

That being said, I never doubted my father loved me. I think sometimes he just didn't know how to show his love.

My father had a flare for life and expression. Always boisterous and ornery, he could fire out sentences to make you double over with laughter or cut you to the knees. He was a force to be reckoned with and never went down without a fight.

Even when he first became ill, he would not be tied down. I remember seeing him in the hospital with both of his legs and arms in restraints because he was determined to get up and walk out of the hospital. I remember the day before my birthday in 2005, it was one of my father's lucid days. My mom was visiting him in the hospital and she handed him the phone to talk to me. My father, who's speech was slurred from having a stroke, barked out, "Erin, you're the smartest one of the bunch, come up here and get me out!!!!" I howled with laughter. The next day, he was unresponsive and we all came up to say goodbye and let him go. But no, George wasn't ready. He still had 2 1/2 years to spend with his family.

It was hard on my mother, but in these 2 years, my father's eyes were opened. He became reacquainted with the amazing woman he married and marvelled at her grace and ingenuity. He was able to watch his son become a father again and spent quality time with his grandchildren. After 17 years, my entire maternal extended family reunited again partly becuase of him. I think one of his happiest times was x-mas of 2006 when most of our extended family was back in his house, under his roof, celebrating family x-mas eve together again as they had nearly 2 decades before.
Our family took one last trip to Oglebay where he got to see the next generation of children chase ducks, ride the paddle boats and tour the Good Zoo--- All things he started with his own children many years ago. Even in the end, he could still kick-ass in cards and was beating my mother only a few weeks ago.

Unfortunately, I hadn't spoken to my dad in the few weeks before his death. He would yell, "I love you" over the phone as I talking to my mom and I would shout it back, but that's about it. The last coversation was over a voiceamail he left me several weeks ago when I was in a car accident and missed my LSAT. He told me he loved me, that I was strong, I would get through this, and he was very proud of me.

On Saturday I will bury my dad. It will be a day of sadness, but it will be filled with love and laughter. Just like my dad.

You've got to be kidding.

Yes, I have a cat. I named her Yiddy, or Yiddy the Kiddy. I freely admit I am quirky and so the name Yiddy the Kiddy should be of no surprise to any of you.

I posted this picture b/c It looks to me as if she's saying, "You're shoving a camera in my face?!?! You've got to be kidding me..." Some of you have the pleasure of knowing Yiddy... She is diva supreme and she has no problem telling you who's boss-- It's clearly NOT me.

I received a call the other day from Citizen's Bank. As many of you know, I have recently become aware my identity has been stolen. Without going into extreme detail, someone was able to lift my social security number and open up 6 credit cards w/ over $60k of available credit. A savings account, checking count and CD were also opened in my name. It appears my evil doppelganger was using the credit cards to make cash withdrawals from ATMS and was putting them in her banking account-- also in my name. By the time I caught it, over $37k had been withdrawn. I began the process of calling on the accounts, filing a complaint with the FTC, and filling out an official identity theft affidavit. I then placed a hold on my credit so that any time credit was being requested in my name and ssn, I would receive a phone call before authorization could be granted.

Imagine my surprise when Citizen's Bank called me (the bank where there are multiple lines of credit cards and banking accounts) and advised me they had a person on hold on the other line, claiming to be me and complaining because her accounts had been cut off and was attempting to open another line of credit! I said let me get this straight.... The woman who stole my identity is currently "on hold," and she's complaining because I have closed her accounts and put a freeze on my credit? ( thus barring her from further use of my identity) I was advised yes, this was correct and the woman who is responsible for stealing my identity is on the other line. My mind starts reeling. I envision a helicopter and SWAT team circling this woman's house barging down her door and reclaiming my good credit score. Alas, this does not occur... It takes time to investigate, establish a paper trail, etc. I was so close!!!!!

Now, I'm a good person. I would never wish harm another human being, but my God, I would have killed to have a nice conversation with this woman!!! I hung up the phone in disbelief... My cat was walking by and I playfully threw a pillow at her. She stopped in her tracks and gave me the same look as described in the above picture, and that was exactly how I felt when I thought about the conversation I had just had... You've got to be f-ing kidding me.....

Life is like a game of Euchre...

I introduce to you the TRUMP CARD THEORY posed to me by my brother several years ago, and has reared it's ugly head yet again.

In the summer of 2004, I found myself in a familiar situation of having to move yet again. Up to that point, I had moved every year since the age of 18, why should this year be any different? In discussing my options with my brother, he blurted out I should come and live with him, his wife and 2 small children. I dismissed the idea as being absurd and laughed out loud. I think I off-handedly insulted my brother by my outburst, and what was once a suggestion made in jest, blew up into a dissertation of the benefits of living with his family. Though I quickly reminded him of my career and fairly affable income, my brother would not drop the subject. I also stated I was not in dire need of his generosity nor was I in any kind of crises, and again declined his offer. My brother then changed his tactics, positing that I am the type of person who will never need help, nor would I ask for it. He further illustrated his point by providing examples of when I have been of service to my friends or family in need. I agreed to his message thus far, which got his momentum going. It was then mentioned how I have earned all these favors, or "trump cards," from the people I have helped, but have never cashed in on them. His final message was that I'm going to end up old, sitting in my rocker on my porch with all these trump cards in my hand and no way to use them. I smiled and my heart warmed with love for my brother. I marveled how the prospect of gaining a live-in babysitter positioned my brother for this great diatribe.

We spoke little of this conversation since that time. I have retold it to friends and we have joked about it occasionally.... Two weeks ago while telling him about missing my LSAT and having the slight possibility to fly to Idaho to take the test, my brother sat back on his chair and said, "I guess this would be one of those times you could use one of your trump cards and get someone to go out there with you on this adventure...."

The Birth of my Blog

Due to immense peer pressure, I have decided to jump off the cliff into the bottomless abyss of blog writing. I don't feel I'm particularly interesting or that what I have to share is stimulating, but I appear to be the minority in this sentiment. So, alas, I present to you-- MY BLOG. It has been named "It's character building," as this has been a quote of mine for several years. I use it most when people are extending sympathy for a particular occurence in my life they deem to be difficult. It is easy for me to say, "Ah, it's character building," as I appear to have issues when people express worry or concern for me. I don't like people to worry, and sometimes I feel like I have to reassure THEM that I'M OK instead of the other way around! That being said, it is comforting to surrounded by people who care, and I feel truly blessed to have such great friends and family.

More to follow.