I think I’m going to start calling Google “The Goog.” “So, I was on The Goog last night and found out that etc etc.” It’s like The Fonz. People will think I have this awesome friend who hops motorcycles over shark tanks and stuff. Except, I better not say “I was on The Goog” last night if that’s the case. Maybe “The Goog told me.” I’ll work it out. Not all my ideas spring fully formed from my head like Athena.

I’ve finally gotten to check out Amy Hempel’s short stories. I wanted to look into her since I heard from Chuck Palahniuk that she was a big influence on him. And I have to say, having read most of her first collection, she was a BIG influence on him. Their writing styles sometimes could be identical, which is awesome. Simple, striking language. I’ve always been a fan of the short story form, because I have the attention span of a newborn goldfish. I also think it takes a lot of talent to be able to tell a story or make someone feel something in less than 10 pages. Not all of the stories in Hempel’s book work, but the ones that do are amazing. In particular, I don’t know that I’ve ever read something that illustrates grief as succinctly and pitch perfectly as “In the Cemetery where Al Jolson is Buried.” If you can find a way to read that, you should, because it’s an amazing story. Also in the short story department, I haven’t recommended Raymond Carver in a while, and I would just like to take this opportunity to let everyone know his stories are so good. So good.

Anyway, a Grandma update is probably in order. She was getting slowly better every day, then she had a couple of days of setbacks where she couldn’t talk anymore. Then she started getting better again. Now she’s out of the hospital and in a rehab place, where she’s receiving four hours of therapy a day instead of the 30 minutes she was getting at the hospital. I haven’t been able to talk to her for a few days, but Grandpa says that she’s able to put a few words together into sentences now. She understands everything that everyone is saying to her, even if she can’t respond. And he said yesterday that she took her first difficult steps since the stroke. She’s gotten to shower and change into her own clothing, and Grandpa said that really cheered her up. The therapists say that she’s probably got another 4-6 weeks in therapy before she can go home, but they seem to expect her to get back to 95%. That’s pretty good.

There’s a woman who works here, Dona, whose husband had a massive stroke a couple of months ago. He was basically a vegetable at the beginning. Last week, he came in to the office and it was remarkable how well he was doing. He was talking at a good pace, he was showing us how he could move his arms up over his head, and stretch his legs. Walking was hard for him, and he forgot words so he had to kind of talk his way around a lot of things. I heard he cried the whole way home because he felt like he’d made a fool out of himself in front of everyone, but Heather was tearing up, and I was trying hard not to do the same. I don’t know if stroke victims know what they’ve been through, but no one in the room thought he was anything but great. He had a sense of humor, he had a fire in his eyes, and he wants to get better. If he can come back from something like that, Grandma can come back too. But, this will be the first Christmas without her at the table, without her world’s-greatest potato salad and sweet potato casserole.

December’s almost over, and after this post we have two more to make it to our arbitrary goal of 150 posts this year. That’s damn near one post every two to three days. I probably won’t post again until after Christmas. Just so you know, my last post of the year will probably be some form of a Top 10 list. Music or movies or games or something. I just can never remember what came out until everyone else puts their lists out. So then I steal from them. I’m headed to Atlanta later this week, and my birthday happens, and Christmas happens, so yeah. Anyway, I get back on Dec 27, so sometime thereafter I’ll see you again. Oh, and today’s my grandpa’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Grandpa!