B is for Cookie

I've spent this week solidifying my reservation in hell. My grandpa died on Monday and while the first thing I did after I got off the phone with my mother was check into prices to get from Kelowna (where the funeral is) to Vancouver (where the awesome people are). But then my parents decided it was too expensive to fly me out for the funeral (really, is there such a thing as too expensive when we're talking about paying your respects to the dearly departed/visiting your boyfriend?).

My mom saw through it like the neighbours bathroom window though and asked me if I actually wanted to go. When I came clean she laughed as only the clinically insane can, or at least one of her personalities did. Then she said there wasn't any room for me to stay with them anyway in grandpa's condo. Not room for me to stay with my family during a time of mourning??? Not a scrap of floor or single cushion??? What am I carrying the christ child? Get me a dog damn room at the inn.

So then I started looking into bereavement fares (that Sienfeld episode is my only reference) and I called both aircanada and westjet using my fake sad voice (for this occasion I went with not too choked up, mostly soft and quiet with some heavy sighs), then when they got me fuck all I changed my grief stage from sadness to anger. Still nothing.

In the end it's probably for the best. After all I think a funeral is not the best place to be introduced to your grandpa's third wife for the first time. What do you say to her? I'm sure your husband was nice, I wish I got to meet him more than once. And will his first and second wives be there too? I like them, they still give me cards with 5 dollar bills inside (although I have reason to believe my mother has been intercepting them as of late). Will his first wife's son from her second marriage be there? Likely not I guess, which is too bad because he has great stories from that time when he robbed a bank. No, wait, I mean those times that he robbed some banks.

Yep, I think at this point the only thing left for me to do is inquire as to the division of assets, also known as the sad lottery. But I might leave that until next week to make sure the innapropriateness is evenly spread throughout my life.

Until then, keep breathing kids.