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So, in other news...

My mom just called me about a half hour ago, and I was expecting the same type of chat we usually have... you know, talking about nothing and everything.

Instead, she said something I couldn't even comprehend at first.

"Curtis died."

I literally almost asked "Curtis who" because the words didn't connect in my head. So instead I said "What?" like I hadn't heard her well, and I guess I thought maybe I hadn't, because it still didn't really compute the second time either. I got "died" just fine... it was just the name that threw me off.

"CURTIS?" I said, the name finally matching up with his face in my mind. Chubby Curtis, with his red face, and bad heart. To say we knew this was coming is being kind. He'd almost died a few years ago and had been told his heart would eventually give out. He just seemed... untouchable in some way.

And it probably had a lot to do with a few things at once. He died. Of a massive heart attack. In late August. And we just found out.

Ouch.

His sister was trying to find mom's information all of this time, and couldn't find it. And today she got it from his old cell phone. His dad had been holding onto it and wouldn't let anyone have it. He was clinging to it. So today she got it, and she called my mom.

Curtis was a huge part of my life from the time I was 14 or 15. He worked with mom at a place called Tenneco, and he was friends with my brother. He would come over all the time, and there were a million stories about him. Curtis the stalker (he was still in love with his ex-wife, and what he did wasn't really stalking, but his friends teased him that it was), Curtis the hard worker (he worked two jobs most of the time I knew him, and he loved it), Curtis the teaser (he loved to joke around with anyone around him), Curtis the singer (he loved karaoke and used to sing the Judd's songs with me when they got home after being out), Curtis the kind (he'd help any friend, any time, with just a word from them)... Mom gave him a key, and we'd come out into the living room most mornings, and find him asleep on our living room floor. It's funny in retrospect, but at the time it was MADDENING. To the point that mom got her key back. But Curtis didn't get mad. He just laughed it off and kept coming over, not letting the fact that she'd been upset make him feel unloved.

For a few years, I hadn't heard from Curtis much. For one thing, he lived in Indiana and we lived in Missouri, and it was hard to get to see him. And I was his friend's daughter, and his other friend's sister, and I guess I always felt like he was THEIR friend, not mine, but we always had a good time talking when we did. When Nyrs and I went up North for our "honeymoon" we visited him, and had a lot of fun talking to him.

This year, though, when things in Michigan exploded? We were driving down the road to Elkhart, trying to figure out what we were doing, where we were going until Nyrs got their paycheck, and we called Mom. We were going to stay at a hotel, but we didn't have the money, and we were panicking a little. She told us she was going to call Curtis.

He immediately told her to tell us to come to his house. He met us to drive us there, took us to WalMart and bought us things, and food for the house, soda and the like... and then took us to his home. He made for sure we were comfortable, talked to us for several hours and gave us free reign of his space. He wasn't usually good about that (he lived alone, and liked his space being HIS). For two days we were there, until Nyrs' check came in, and we meant to go back to give him $50 and a big thank you, but everything was happening so fast that we headed out of town telling each other over and over that we were going to thank him later.

Later never came, because life works weird and we got here and things were hard, but great, and pretty soon we forgot about thanking him (other than through mom). And while he's passed our minds repeatedly (every time we talk about Michigan, it ends with "and thank God for Curtis for letting us stay there!"), somehow we never made the time to do what we should have done.

And then, today, I got the call. It's a bitter pill to know I should have said things I didn't say. But there are always regrets when we lose someone we cared about.

The thing is, in late August, I lost my friend. But today, I lost a brother. A true friend. A man who was a very fine man indeed, and who was an asset to the time he was given on this earth. My heart feels fragile all of the sudden. I guess I didn't realize he had such an important place in it until he was gone.

I'm sorry, Curtis. I wish I'd been a better friend to you. I love you, guy.

( just to show off how much weight I've lost (in my face) )
Unfortunately I don't have full body shots. Mostly because the very idea makes me want to scream.

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Seriously good Dr. visit today.

Remember the end of last year when my doctor was going to put me on insulin? >.> And we moved, so I couldn't go on it and things were crazy and everything?

Well, my blood sugars are doing so well that when she discussed putting me back on meds today for my diabetes? She said she's putting me back on metformin. NOT insulin. I was like "So does this mean I'm not going to need the insulin, in your opinion?" She said "That's what we're hoping... but it seems like maybe you won't."

That's SO happy-making.

Oh, and she upped my celexa. So if I'm a mess for the next two weeks or so? Please understand. I tend to do things like fall asleep sitting up and grind my teeth. At least, she thinks it might happen again. Maybe. "It can". That's okay, as long as it only a couple of weeks. (She's upping it because I'm still having SOME depression, and my OCD is still bad. Celexa can help OCD.)

Also, she's put me on antibiotics for my abscess in my gums. Hopefully next week I can get into the dentist. That would kind of make my LIFE right now.

In the bad side of things... she literally GASPED at my feet. We have had a flea problem, and I've been scratching my skin OFF. Like, layers of skin. My feet look really bad. Being a diabetic, this is extra bad. I don't heal very well. And put that my OCD makes me PICK at skin that feels "off" or different? Some of my wounds don't heal for months. Literally. I can get gangrene if I'm not careful. I've never had it happen, but it COULD and that's terrifying.

Anyway, that's how this morning went.

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So, for all my fandom-lovely friends, this is the place to post if you'd like a holiday fic from me.

Here's the rules:

1. Pick a fandom I know something about (RP fandom or show, musical, etc... whatever)
2. Give me a couple in the Universe. (Cracky or serious, I really don't care)
3. Give me a prompt (if you want one) or just designate a genre (Gen, romantic, sex, etc)
4. Wait. Because sometime between now and Christmas, I'll write you a fic. :D

Each person can request up to 4 fics, and I'll do my best to get to every one. No promises on more than one, though.

THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE: Scat, golden showers, extreme hard-core BDSM (unless I KNOW you and know what you like, sorry)

THINGS I PREFER NOT TO WRITE: Rape, dub-con. But I will if pressed.

Request away!

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Leslie Bibb looks so much like Dawna that it's blink-worthy. She was on Law Abiding Citizen, and we seriously had to stay after to watch the credits to see who it was, because we'd half convinced ourselves she was Maggie Grace. >.> I hate when that happens.

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