I have very little desire to recount the horrifying tales of how I rescued my condo association from the looming spectre of cluster f*ck. Maybe someday I will. For now, these are the lessons learned: a) white people and chinese people should learn to communicate and get along, and b) T is either a psychotic freak or an evil genius. Don't worry, though, because we're not going to let her rent, and we will collect her back dues.

Also, I have a special talent for diplomacy.

Change of subject.

Friday afternoon I hopped in the car with C to go visit grandma. When we got there after 45 minutes of traffic, we found grandma in the nursing home parking lot with a pirate's hat on her head. The staff was throwing a family picnic with a 'Pirates of the Carribbean' theme. It is so sad and sadistic to dress the elderly in cheap costume; the absolute hillarity of it all is suprisingly complex.

Grandma was talkative, and insisted on trying to feed herself corn on the cob. No success, but she was trying all sorts of new things. She had some bbq chicken and some goldfish crackers. Apparently she's refusing to eat the purreed food now, which means she's going to have to make a committment to put in her teeth every day. She was wearing her glasses, so she was able to read some fo the signs in the parking lot ("carpool parking only!").

Apparently she was screaming "I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!" but there was a nurse there who calmed her down in Ilokano--you're not going to die, mama, you just have diarrhea.

Another time, she was asking for Lori. Lori? and they sad, R, you're going to have to talk in English, because we can't understand that mumbo-jumbo. Grandma said "I AM speaking English! I want LORI!"

Mumbo-jumbo, of course, is racist for 'Ilokano.'

I stayed the night at Auntie R's. Uncle E's neices and nephews are there, and they're happy to do all the cooking and cleaning. B practices her English on me when no one else is around.

They made a tub load of pansit bihon and some beef bbq for dinner, which we packed up when we got a call that Lola N had 48 hours to live. After her stroke and a few months of nursing home care, her diabetes went undiagnosed, and a would on her foot became gangrenous. So now her blood is infected, and the best they can do is give her morphene for the pain.

All of those V*********s are in Seattle to say goodbye. It's good to see everyone, and I'm glad I was there for her annointing. My family is 50 or 60 times funnier than other families, even when they're sad. The best is all the sisters, aunties who are in their 50s and 60s who still tease each other like they're 12.

My parents are going to the Bay Area to visit Uncle J.

I believe tomorrow is my last day of summer. It's already raining cats and dogs.

Thursday is payday; it's the day I start Atkins again. Friday I have classes. Yech.