Visited Mormor in the hospital today; she was really cranky, but seemed healthy enough. She looked almost completely normal, except for the wires that tethered her to various machines and monitors. She looked like cyborg-Mormor; the million dollar Mormor.

I spent most of the time I was at the hospital talking to my aunt Lise in the cafeteria. We had a nice long conversation, during which she told me she wanted to be closer to me. This is the woman who accidentally told everyone that I was her daughter at my grandfather's funeral; I love her so much it's hard to comprehend sometimes. We'll see if we can keep in touch.

I want to look fabulous when I go back to school. I have this idea that if I have new glasses, new hair, new clothes, if I lose weight, pump up my cleavage, rid my skin of even the slightest imperfection; if I can do that, then I can do anything. My self esteem (which is non-existent) will sky rocket; I'll shed this five year depression I've been working on; I'll be a better partner, both intellectually and sexually. I've even convinced myself that I will be a better student, if only I were pretty.

A couple days ago my dad and I were eating lunch at Oodles (as usual) when he began to choke on a piece of wheat toast. I just kind of watched him, and after he'd turned bright red, asked if he needed CPR. He didn't respond, but eventually he managed to dislodge the offending particle and gasp for breath, eyes watering and hands shaking. Ever since I've been having dreams about what would happen to me if Dadd died this minute. I'd be pretty helpless. We have no money. I can't drive. I'd be by myself. Kind of a disturbing thought.

And then this Mormor business; I was kind of worried to visit her, to be honest, because I had this image of myself visiting a completely healed old woman, only to go home and find out she died three days later. Once I got there I stopped worrying so much, because she seemed happy to see me and she is so incredibly funny. She spent five minutes demonstrating how she could manipulate the various lines on her vital signs monitor, scolded a doctor for his incorrect usage of the lay/lie rule, and spoke at length about the quality of the hospital's scones. Anyway, I guess we'll see if she survives another couple of nights, despite my having visited her.