Oh, wow. I got up this morning, a little confused (the Radish and Allison were both dead in my dream last night, and I spent most of the night dreaming I was crying) but feeling pretty good about the day. I didn't think that it would end in tears.
Let me explain.
As I'm sure all of you know, Geoffrey died last August. I have dedicated 11:11 every day, at least once, sometimes (if I see it) twice to thinking about him, because before he died, that was always my wish: that he would get better. And then, a long time after he died, I decided that my wish did come true - in a left-handed way. He's not suffering anymore, and no one could say he'd be better off here than in Heaven. But I realized, today, that that doesn't matter to me - I still want him here. And I know that's very selfish of me. But some days I just need to be selfish. And yeah, I know that you could say that I've spent the evening having a pity party, but some days I need that, too.
I watched So You Think You Can Dance. There was one dance, it was about breast cancer, and I bawled. And that's what made me cry.
Sometimes I'm so cheery that I even make myself sick.
I know this guy. I'm not going to say who he is, or where I know him from. I'd really like to be better friends with him, although I think that is going to be very hard - the environment I usually see him in is very... fierce. Any softness is mocked, and any genuine caring is scoffed. I am terrified of being made fun of, and this guy is sometimes seen as kind of... stupid, although I prefer to think of it as Artist's Syndrome - scatterbrained.
That in and of itself is not the issue. That's all background information. The issue is, every time I spend time with him, I leave thinking about Geoffrey. Like I can't be friends with another guy (the Cherd discluded, because I was already friends with him) without somehow letting Geoffrey down. But that's stupid, because (a) Geoffrey would never even think to try to limit who I can be friends with, (b) if anything, Geoffrey would want me to have more friends, and (c) there is no limit to how much love you can feel. It's not as though you're given one set amount of love for your lifetime, and when you start to love someone new, you have to love someone you already love less. It doesn't work that way. When you start to love someone new, your "love quota" grows.
But I need, somehow, to figure out who I am, and how I'm changed because I knew and lost Geoffrey before I can even think about even the immediate future. I'm trying to decide what I want to go to school for. I could do anything I liked. I have the brains, and I have the willpower (most days). So that doesn't help. I have to decide who I am, and what I want my personal life to look like before I can decide what I want to do with my education and my future career.
I don't like letting go like that. It may take me years to figure out who I am. I like being in control of who I am, and I like to know what I want from myself and others. But if it takes me years to figure out who I am by myself, then I'll wait that long before I try to figure out who I'll be when/if I find someone else to add to myself to make into two complete people. I have to learn to love myself before I can learn to love anyone new. Before I can love myself, I have to know who my "self" is.
I really don't know if any of that made any sense whatsoever. And I apologise for not blogging in so long (even though for anyone else, it wasn't that long at all). I've been really lazy when not at work, and even though that's not an excuse, it's all I've got.
Tomorrow, I shall hopefully be able to post a link to Allison's and my webcomic, For Shiro, on DeviantArt (it has to be tomorrow, because the first strip is not even planned out yet, let alone drawn). In the meantime, I hope y'all have a good evening, and a great tomorrow.
Thanks for being made of magic and awesome, y'all.
Jennie.Rae
22 July 2009
16 July 2009
WARNING!! Spoilers for John Green's Looking for Alaska. After my shameless plugging for his books in previous posts, don't read this one if you're
going to read the book.
To get started: I am frightened a little bit by how much I see myself in the character of Alaska Young. Maybe not so flirty, not so bad-ass, but in her mood swings, the way she talks, all of it. She just is like me. Or, maybe I see the person I could be. I could be, as the back of the book calls it, "gorgeous, clever, funny, sexy, self-destructive, screwed-up and utterly fascinating". Maybe I just want to be like her. (Maybe I couldn't pull of the gorgeous, I dunno.)
Pudge (or, Miles, I suppose) says that she had a strength that he didn't - that she found a way out of the "labyrinth", and that he was too scared to. I disagree wholeheartedly. I believe that Alaska lacked his courage. The courage to, through it all, just hold on. Speaking as someone who knows how hard it is just to stop breathing (I couldn't do it) I know the kind of courage it takes to just stick it out. My best friend (one of them) wanted to kill herself this year. I saw in her the kind of courage that no one could ever find anywhere else. Suicide is not, as some people see it, a brave act. It is selfish, and it is cowardly.
The back of the book has some discussion questions. One of them asks what do you think of the Great Perhaps, and what do you think of the "labyrinth". I think the only way out of the labyrinth is to find the Great Perhaps.
I'm still not sure if I believe in Heaven. I want to, because then I get to see Geoffrey again. And for a long time, that thought was the only thing that kept me clinging to God. But I want to be like that woman, proclaiming that a man should not love God for want of Heaven of fear of Hell, but because he is God. That is why I want to believe in God. Maybe Heaven is the Great Perhaps. Then again, maybe it's not. Maybe going to Oxford is my Great Perhaps. Maybe moving to Australia is the Cherd's Great Perhaps. Maybe Heaven was Geoffrey's Great Perhaps.
You'll never know if you've gotten to the Great Perhaps, if you've gotten out of the "labyrinth" until you get there, I suppose.
And now that I have to be at the Radish's in less than 12 hours, maybe I should at least make an attempt to sleep, even though I'm not in the least bit sleepy. Today has been a sit and read day. I read two provocative novels, and I think I need to think and unwind a bit more before I sleep. Who knows.
I go to seek the Great Perhaps (Francois Rabelais)
Jennie.Rae
To get started: I am frightened a little bit by how much I see myself in the character of Alaska Young. Maybe not so flirty, not so bad-ass, but in her mood swings, the way she talks, all of it. She just is like me. Or, maybe I see the person I could be. I could be, as the back of the book calls it, "gorgeous, clever, funny, sexy, self-destructive, screwed-up and utterly fascinating". Maybe I just want to be like her. (Maybe I couldn't pull of the gorgeous, I dunno.)
Pudge (or, Miles, I suppose) says that she had a strength that he didn't - that she found a way out of the "labyrinth", and that he was too scared to. I disagree wholeheartedly. I believe that Alaska lacked his courage. The courage to, through it all, just hold on. Speaking as someone who knows how hard it is just to stop breathing (I couldn't do it) I know the kind of courage it takes to just stick it out. My best friend (one of them) wanted to kill herself this year. I saw in her the kind of courage that no one could ever find anywhere else. Suicide is not, as some people see it, a brave act. It is selfish, and it is cowardly.
The back of the book has some discussion questions. One of them asks what do you think of the Great Perhaps, and what do you think of the "labyrinth". I think the only way out of the labyrinth is to find the Great Perhaps.
I'm still not sure if I believe in Heaven. I want to, because then I get to see Geoffrey again. And for a long time, that thought was the only thing that kept me clinging to God. But I want to be like that woman, proclaiming that a man should not love God for want of Heaven of fear of Hell, but because he is God. That is why I want to believe in God. Maybe Heaven is the Great Perhaps. Then again, maybe it's not. Maybe going to Oxford is my Great Perhaps. Maybe moving to Australia is the Cherd's Great Perhaps. Maybe Heaven was Geoffrey's Great Perhaps.
You'll never know if you've gotten to the Great Perhaps, if you've gotten out of the "labyrinth" until you get there, I suppose.
And now that I have to be at the Radish's in less than 12 hours, maybe I should at least make an attempt to sleep, even though I'm not in the least bit sleepy. Today has been a sit and read day. I read two provocative novels, and I think I need to think and unwind a bit more before I sleep. Who knows.
I go to seek the Great Perhaps (Francois Rabelais)
Jennie.Rae
15 July 2009
I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That's deep enough. What do you want--an adorable pancreas?--Jean Kerr, (1923--)
Three real, important, and exciting things.
1. I finished A Great and Terrible Beauty! It's by Libba Bray if anyone wants to look it up and read it. It's amazing. But, be forewarned, it's kind of dark. If you wanted to borrow my copy... it's been written in. I've decided that the best reading experience is when you take notes on the book, and note things that you like and/or dislike about the book. It's easier to track things like symbols and such. Not that I'm an English nerd or anything. =P
2. My bookshelf is full. This is neither a good thing, nor a happy thing, but it is real, important, and exciting nonetheless. I just bought three new books, and now I have to find homes for them all. Poop on a stick! (My new favourite swear-phrase) (Because it's more than one word) I have everything organised by genre, so I can't even just plop them in any old where. It goes realistic fiction, then historical fiction, then fantasy/science fiction, and then children's books, more or less. And within that, it also is organised by how much I actually like the book. So, no one else could figure out my organisation, but everything has it's own very specific place. Which reminds me, I must get my book and my letter from the Radish tomorrow.
3. I passed my grade eight piano exam! With 72%! That's an honours mark! Hoorah! For those of you who don't know, we weren't even sure if I would pass, because I was no where near ready. But I did! I'm sooooo happy!!!
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
Pee Ess. My face hurts. Stupid orthodontist. He put a chain elastic on the bottom, so every tooth on the bottom is connected not only with a wire, but also a very tight elastic. I have to wear elastics that are about half a milimetre in radius from the top jaw hooked onto two teeth on the bottom, for twelve hours a day. Argh. Ouch. And if I'm not wearing said elastics, my braces rip open the insides of my lips. I may even break down and put on wax, even though I'll feel weak for still wearing it two years into having braces. Seriously, I should have enough callouses by now. But I don't. And now I shall stop rambling and boring you all to tears. And go attempt to brush my teeth without wanting to rip my face off because it hurts so much. And take more painkillers. DFTBA.
1. I finished A Great and Terrible Beauty! It's by Libba Bray if anyone wants to look it up and read it. It's amazing. But, be forewarned, it's kind of dark. If you wanted to borrow my copy... it's been written in. I've decided that the best reading experience is when you take notes on the book, and note things that you like and/or dislike about the book. It's easier to track things like symbols and such. Not that I'm an English nerd or anything. =P
2. My bookshelf is full. This is neither a good thing, nor a happy thing, but it is real, important, and exciting nonetheless. I just bought three new books, and now I have to find homes for them all. Poop on a stick! (My new favourite swear-phrase) (Because it's more than one word) I have everything organised by genre, so I can't even just plop them in any old where. It goes realistic fiction, then historical fiction, then fantasy/science fiction, and then children's books, more or less. And within that, it also is organised by how much I actually like the book. So, no one else could figure out my organisation, but everything has it's own very specific place. Which reminds me, I must get my book and my letter from the Radish tomorrow.
3. I passed my grade eight piano exam! With 72%! That's an honours mark! Hoorah! For those of you who don't know, we weren't even sure if I would pass, because I was no where near ready. But I did! I'm sooooo happy!!!
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
Pee Ess. My face hurts. Stupid orthodontist. He put a chain elastic on the bottom, so every tooth on the bottom is connected not only with a wire, but also a very tight elastic. I have to wear elastics that are about half a milimetre in radius from the top jaw hooked onto two teeth on the bottom, for twelve hours a day. Argh. Ouch. And if I'm not wearing said elastics, my braces rip open the insides of my lips. I may even break down and put on wax, even though I'll feel weak for still wearing it two years into having braces. Seriously, I should have enough callouses by now. But I don't. And now I shall stop rambling and boring you all to tears. And go attempt to brush my teeth without wanting to rip my face off because it hurts so much. And take more painkillers. DFTBA.
14 July 2009
Ninty percent of true love is acute, earburning embarrassment. - Terry Pratchett, "Wyrd Sisters"
You know, I just thought of it - Wyrd sisters would describe me and my sisters to a tee.
So, the reason why I haven't posted anything in twelve years, is because, as you know, I'm sure, I've been working. A lot. So now, I'm burnt out, tired, head-ache-y, and barely able to hold my head up straight. (By the way, Radish and Cherd, thanks for being concerned, but I've done more hours in the same amount of time, just later in the summer.) (And thank goodness for spellcheck!)
Today, I would have been out almost two hundred dollars if I'd been alone when I was counting my cash - two hundred dollars short, which is a fire-able offense, obviously. So I was freaking out. Good thing Patrick (whose real name is Tammy, but Tami is my boss, so you can't have two Tammys/Tamis around) was there to look over my shoulder and figure out what my issue was. That's the second time I almost cried today. It turns out that I just can't add, that's all. Two fifty dollar bills are one hundred dollars, not fifty. And my voids weren't adding up right. And I forgot about my coupons.
And then Mister Mark drove me home. We had to stop at Mister Paul and Missus Tami's house to drop off the cash, and then we drove home. It was nice. I really like Mister Mark. He's possibly the best man I've ever met outside of my family and my church. And even in competition with my church, he's pretty high up there. And his wife, Debbie, is a sweetheart, too. They came out to the market one day, after Mark had been working all day, just to bring me a fahita, because I told Mark he could bring me one, when he said Debbie was making them for dinner. It was the best fahita I'd ever eaten.
I got another ten dollars from Patrick today to shave my head, and the sist's friend promised me another twenty-five, so I'm up to one hundred and thirty five, I think. Yay! I wonder how Allison's doing. Maybe I should call her tomorrow, since I think she's home, now. Yay, again!
Anyway, now I'm just blabbering on for something to do while I finish my hot chocolate, so I'm going to stop what I'm sure is torture for you, my dear reader (well, that wasn't cheesy at all!). I'm skipping the shower tonight. I'll go write a little more of a story, and go to bed.
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
So, the reason why I haven't posted anything in twelve years, is because, as you know, I'm sure, I've been working. A lot. So now, I'm burnt out, tired, head-ache-y, and barely able to hold my head up straight. (By the way, Radish and Cherd, thanks for being concerned, but I've done more hours in the same amount of time, just later in the summer.) (And thank goodness for spellcheck!)
Today, I would have been out almost two hundred dollars if I'd been alone when I was counting my cash - two hundred dollars short, which is a fire-able offense, obviously. So I was freaking out. Good thing Patrick (whose real name is Tammy, but Tami is my boss, so you can't have two Tammys/Tamis around) was there to look over my shoulder and figure out what my issue was. That's the second time I almost cried today. It turns out that I just can't add, that's all. Two fifty dollar bills are one hundred dollars, not fifty. And my voids weren't adding up right. And I forgot about my coupons.
And then Mister Mark drove me home. We had to stop at Mister Paul and Missus Tami's house to drop off the cash, and then we drove home. It was nice. I really like Mister Mark. He's possibly the best man I've ever met outside of my family and my church. And even in competition with my church, he's pretty high up there. And his wife, Debbie, is a sweetheart, too. They came out to the market one day, after Mark had been working all day, just to bring me a fahita, because I told Mark he could bring me one, when he said Debbie was making them for dinner. It was the best fahita I'd ever eaten.
I got another ten dollars from Patrick today to shave my head, and the sist's friend promised me another twenty-five, so I'm up to one hundred and thirty five, I think. Yay! I wonder how Allison's doing. Maybe I should call her tomorrow, since I think she's home, now. Yay, again!
Anyway, now I'm just blabbering on for something to do while I finish my hot chocolate, so I'm going to stop what I'm sure is torture for you, my dear reader (well, that wasn't cheesy at all!). I'm skipping the shower tonight. I'll go write a little more of a story, and go to bed.
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
08 July 2009
Nerd girls are the world's greatest, under-utilised romantic resource. - John Green
I've become addicted to this. It's like journaling only much more better! Because, in my opinion, all writing is meant to be read, and a journal isn't often read. And that is why there are updates nearly every day. But please, leave comments, people! If you don't have a gmail account, sign up for one, just so you can leave comments! You don't have to use it - I have three accounts, now, and only use one during the school year, one all the time, and the third for this blog. I love comments, they make me feel warm and fuzzy inside!
So, basically, I feel like I'm wasting my life, here. What is the point? I'm not learning anything, I'm not doing anything constructive. I wish I'd enrolled in summer school, because then I could actually be doing something. Although, I don't know how many of the courses I'm taking next year they actually run in summer school. And I'm not making any contribution to society, working in retail. I wish I could just get on with my life. Summer, while I love the warmth of it (not that there's been much, lately), is a waste of time. I almost wish that I could go to school from February until November, and then have December and January off. I'd rather be in my air-conditioned school (alright, fine, it's more of a refrigerated school) than my non-air-conditioned house. Somehow there always seems to be more to do in the winter. And then I could actually play in the snow, which I love to do.
And now, some "alternate" meanings for DFTBA. (Because I found some on YouTube that I liked.) Darling, Fetch The Battle Axe. Dinosaurs Failed To Beat Astroid. Do Fish Take Baths Alot? I can't remember any of the other ones, I can't find the video where they had it, and my father needs the computer.
So,
DFTBA for now,
Jennie.Rae
So, basically, I feel like I'm wasting my life, here. What is the point? I'm not learning anything, I'm not doing anything constructive. I wish I'd enrolled in summer school, because then I could actually be doing something. Although, I don't know how many of the courses I'm taking next year they actually run in summer school. And I'm not making any contribution to society, working in retail. I wish I could just get on with my life. Summer, while I love the warmth of it (not that there's been much, lately), is a waste of time. I almost wish that I could go to school from February until November, and then have December and January off. I'd rather be in my air-conditioned school (alright, fine, it's more of a refrigerated school) than my non-air-conditioned house. Somehow there always seems to be more to do in the winter. And then I could actually play in the snow, which I love to do.
And now, some "alternate" meanings for DFTBA. (Because I found some on YouTube that I liked.) Darling, Fetch The Battle Axe. Dinosaurs Failed To Beat Astroid. Do Fish Take Baths Alot? I can't remember any of the other ones, I can't find the video where they had it, and my father needs the computer.
So,
DFTBA for now,
Jennie.Rae
07 July 2009
Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them. - Lemony Snicket
Google Verb! A meme from vlogbrothers.
Jennie needs: Jennie needs to milk the cows
Jennie looks like: Jennie looks like some random slore porn star who wasn't hot enough
Jennie says: "People usually get a car fixed close to where they live or close to where they work"
Jennie wants: Jennie wants you to meet her
Jennie does: Jennie does two things in her artwork that I really love
Jennie hates: Jennie hates her exhusband with a hate so feriocious a dart of my evil eye may possibly be fatal (That's pretty strong.)
Jennie asks: "Is it possible to give a prediction of when I might get pregnant/give birth?" (What?!)
Jennie likes: Jennie likes to think that she discovered Despair.com before me
Jennie eats: Jennie eats anything. ANYTHING. Beans, lentils, fruits, veggies, Ty's leftovers, stuff off the floor, lint, whatever
Jennie wears: Jennie wears a GPRS tracking collar
Jennie was arrested for: Jennie was arrested for stealing students' painkillers
Jennie loves: Jennie loves sex. (I looked for something else, but that was the ONLY result on the whole first page. Um.)
So, that's it. Now I fear for the state of humanity.
Jennie needs: Jennie needs to milk the cows
Jennie looks like: Jennie looks like some random slore porn star who wasn't hot enough
Jennie says: "People usually get a car fixed close to where they live or close to where they work"
Jennie wants: Jennie wants you to meet her
Jennie does: Jennie does two things in her artwork that I really love
Jennie hates: Jennie hates her exhusband with a hate so feriocious a dart of my evil eye may possibly be fatal (That's pretty strong.)
Jennie asks: "Is it possible to give a prediction of when I might get pregnant/give birth?" (What?!)
Jennie likes: Jennie likes to think that she discovered Despair.com before me
Jennie eats: Jennie eats anything. ANYTHING. Beans, lentils, fruits, veggies, Ty's leftovers, stuff off the floor, lint, whatever
Jennie wears: Jennie wears a GPRS tracking collar
Jennie was arrested for: Jennie was arrested for stealing students' painkillers
Jennie loves: Jennie loves sex. (I looked for something else, but that was the ONLY result on the whole first page. Um.)
So, that's it. Now I fear for the state of humanity.
06 July 2009
Things that try to look like things often look more like things than things. - Granny Weatherwax
I've decided to title each of my posts with a witty aphorism. I like aphorisms, even if they don't mean anything at all.
I just got back from picking strawberries with my mother and my father. Strawberry picking used to be one of the highlights of my summer, but lately I've not liked it as much. Maybe it's because I work with them, or maybe it's just because I don't like them as much anymore. Or, maybe it's simply because they're farther away from me, now that I'm a whole lot bigger. And I don't like bending down that far. 'Cause I still love strawberries, even if I can't smell them. Like, ever. Stupid allergies and noses that don't work. Argh.
All in all, though, today was a good day. I finally found a pair of capris that fit, and that I like! And they're new denim, too! Usually I hate the feeling of new denim, so I buy jeans at the second hand store. But at Suzy Shier they had some that felt like they'd already been worn in, and it made me very happy. Because I hate new denim. Not that anyone cares.
I've decided that I'm not very good at blogging, because I don't ever talk about anything interesting. I mean, aphorisms, strawberry picking, and jeans. Who cares? Although, I guess, if you care enough to read this, then you obviously care about what I have to say. That sentence made not very much sense at all, but I still like it. I don't make very much sense, either, in a non-sensical, sensical way. Is sensical even a word?
So, Thursday is Geoffrey's birthday. I work all day. That's gonna suck. But hopefully it won't be too hard. Haha, that's a funny joke. He would have been sixteen - what better birthday is there? I mean, he'd be off for his G1 soon, he'd probably already have read the book, and be signed up for driver's ed, if I know him at all. Ick. I don't want to think about it. Because I'd counted on him being around for my sixteenth birthday. They gave him two months, and so he should have still been alive at the beginning of October. I guess that's what I'm still so bitter about. I was reading bits of my journal last night, and I read what I wrote on August 23rd. That was the day of the staff party last year. I remember it exactly. I was sitting on the edge of the wagon, the left side, and Kyle was sitting beside me.
"How's it going?" he asked me.
"Alright, all things considered." I stared out over the dark strawberry field, pitying myself.
"What d'you mean?"
"Remember the friend I told you about, who's in the hospital?"
"Yeah."
I didn't look at him, I just blurted it out, because I had to tell someone, someone who didn't know Geoffrey, because that was easier. "We got the test results. He's got a very aggressive type of cancer. They're giving him two months." He sort of patted my arm, and I don't remember how he ended the conversation, but I think he left quite soon after I said that. I tried not to cry. I was terrified.
And the next day, I worked all day. And then I came home, and Mom told me.
I wasn't scheduled to work for the rest of the week, which I suppose was an Act of God. When I did finally go back, Dave was driving me, Nathan and someone else, I don't remember who it was, to satellites. They were all complaining about how their lives sucked, and I just sat there and listened. I wasn't very talkative, at that point, yet. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and I must have said it very loudly, because everyone fell silent and it was really awkward after.
"My friend just died on Sunday, so I don't think you should be complaining." No one said anything for a long time, and Dave just patted my arm, I guess he was trying to comfort me in some way.
And Nathan knew someone else who'd just died, and he thought maybe it was the same person. I assured him it was not. The other guy died about a week before Geoffrey did.
And where did that story come from?!?
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
I just got back from picking strawberries with my mother and my father. Strawberry picking used to be one of the highlights of my summer, but lately I've not liked it as much. Maybe it's because I work with them, or maybe it's just because I don't like them as much anymore. Or, maybe it's simply because they're farther away from me, now that I'm a whole lot bigger. And I don't like bending down that far. 'Cause I still love strawberries, even if I can't smell them. Like, ever. Stupid allergies and noses that don't work. Argh.
All in all, though, today was a good day. I finally found a pair of capris that fit, and that I like! And they're new denim, too! Usually I hate the feeling of new denim, so I buy jeans at the second hand store. But at Suzy Shier they had some that felt like they'd already been worn in, and it made me very happy. Because I hate new denim. Not that anyone cares.
I've decided that I'm not very good at blogging, because I don't ever talk about anything interesting. I mean, aphorisms, strawberry picking, and jeans. Who cares? Although, I guess, if you care enough to read this, then you obviously care about what I have to say. That sentence made not very much sense at all, but I still like it. I don't make very much sense, either, in a non-sensical, sensical way. Is sensical even a word?
So, Thursday is Geoffrey's birthday. I work all day. That's gonna suck. But hopefully it won't be too hard. Haha, that's a funny joke. He would have been sixteen - what better birthday is there? I mean, he'd be off for his G1 soon, he'd probably already have read the book, and be signed up for driver's ed, if I know him at all. Ick. I don't want to think about it. Because I'd counted on him being around for my sixteenth birthday. They gave him two months, and so he should have still been alive at the beginning of October. I guess that's what I'm still so bitter about. I was reading bits of my journal last night, and I read what I wrote on August 23rd. That was the day of the staff party last year. I remember it exactly. I was sitting on the edge of the wagon, the left side, and Kyle was sitting beside me.
"How's it going?" he asked me.
"Alright, all things considered." I stared out over the dark strawberry field, pitying myself.
"What d'you mean?"
"Remember the friend I told you about, who's in the hospital?"
"Yeah."
I didn't look at him, I just blurted it out, because I had to tell someone, someone who didn't know Geoffrey, because that was easier. "We got the test results. He's got a very aggressive type of cancer. They're giving him two months." He sort of patted my arm, and I don't remember how he ended the conversation, but I think he left quite soon after I said that. I tried not to cry. I was terrified.
And the next day, I worked all day. And then I came home, and Mom told me.
I wasn't scheduled to work for the rest of the week, which I suppose was an Act of God. When I did finally go back, Dave was driving me, Nathan and someone else, I don't remember who it was, to satellites. They were all complaining about how their lives sucked, and I just sat there and listened. I wasn't very talkative, at that point, yet. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and I must have said it very loudly, because everyone fell silent and it was really awkward after.
"My friend just died on Sunday, so I don't think you should be complaining." No one said anything for a long time, and Dave just patted my arm, I guess he was trying to comfort me in some way.
And Nathan knew someone else who'd just died, and he thought maybe it was the same person. I assured him it was not. The other guy died about a week before Geoffrey did.
And where did that story come from?!?
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
05 July 2009
The quoting of an aphorism rarely means something good is about to happen. - Lemony Snicket
Hey, so, cool! My whole family was home this weekend, and then my parents' friends, Heiner and Denise stopped by, and so we went from a full house to just me and my mother in about half an hour. I love it when my family comes home. (And yes, family does include David.)
I didn't get a chance to talk to Dykstras or Mrs Vanderlinde at church today. I talked to Janita instead, and then I went home, because Erin wanted to stop at the market and she had to be in Peterborough for 2:30 to catch her bus. So now we have fresh strawberries, most of which will probably end up in the freezer, and asparagus. Mother tried cooking asparagus a while back, but it didn't work, 'cause you're only supposed to boil it for like 2 minutes, not ten. So she's going to try it again. Hopefully it'll be better this time!
I bought a new dress on Monday, and I wore it today. It falls open at the front when I sit down, so I'm going to get a brooch with fake flowers on it to pin it closed. It's a little embarrassing, but hopefully the brooch will fix it. It's a really pretty dress, it's green and blue and white and grey-ish brown. The background is white, and then it's got blue stripes and blue, green and grey-ish flowers in the front, and there's sparkly accents on some of the flowers. Hoorah for $11.00 at It's Worth Repeating!
Ever have it (probably not, I don't think most of you are writers...) that you have an idea for a story when you're showering, and you can't wait to start writing it? And then you don't go to bed until like 11:00, and so you can't start writing it until then. And then you write and write and write and the next thing you know, it's 1:30? That's pretty much what happened to me last night. It's a really good story, though! Or, rather, it will be, when it's finished, and I flesh it out a bit. I'm just writing basically a skeleton. I'll go back when it's done and give it some more meat, make it longer, change the wording (it's easier to find the right word when you type your stories, I find). I'm really really excited about it! Maybe I can include it in my Seasons anthology that I'm writing...
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
I didn't get a chance to talk to Dykstras or Mrs Vanderlinde at church today. I talked to Janita instead, and then I went home, because Erin wanted to stop at the market and she had to be in Peterborough for 2:30 to catch her bus. So now we have fresh strawberries, most of which will probably end up in the freezer, and asparagus. Mother tried cooking asparagus a while back, but it didn't work, 'cause you're only supposed to boil it for like 2 minutes, not ten. So she's going to try it again. Hopefully it'll be better this time!
I bought a new dress on Monday, and I wore it today. It falls open at the front when I sit down, so I'm going to get a brooch with fake flowers on it to pin it closed. It's a little embarrassing, but hopefully the brooch will fix it. It's a really pretty dress, it's green and blue and white and grey-ish brown. The background is white, and then it's got blue stripes and blue, green and grey-ish flowers in the front, and there's sparkly accents on some of the flowers. Hoorah for $11.00 at It's Worth Repeating!
Ever have it (probably not, I don't think most of you are writers...) that you have an idea for a story when you're showering, and you can't wait to start writing it? And then you don't go to bed until like 11:00, and so you can't start writing it until then. And then you write and write and write and the next thing you know, it's 1:30? That's pretty much what happened to me last night. It's a really good story, though! Or, rather, it will be, when it's finished, and I flesh it out a bit. I'm just writing basically a skeleton. I'll go back when it's done and give it some more meat, make it longer, change the wording (it's easier to find the right word when you type your stories, I find). I'm really really excited about it! Maybe I can include it in my Seasons anthology that I'm writing...
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
03 July 2009
You were born an original. Don't die a copy.
Home from work, showered and changed. I now resemble a real person, instead of a dirty farm girl. Not that I don't enjoy being a farm girl, but I just look like a real person, now.
I already have $95.00 in pledges! Haha, beat that, Radish and Allison! Second day I have it, and I'm already almost at $100! I can't wait... I have to talk to the Dykstras on Sunday at church, and then I also want to talk to Mrs. Vanderlinde, because she might do the actual cutting off of hair. Hoorah!
Other than that, I really have nothing to say. So, I suppose I'll be signing off now!
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
I already have $95.00 in pledges! Haha, beat that, Radish and Allison! Second day I have it, and I'm already almost at $100! I can't wait... I have to talk to the Dykstras on Sunday at church, and then I also want to talk to Mrs. Vanderlinde, because she might do the actual cutting off of hair. Hoorah!
Other than that, I really have nothing to say. So, I suppose I'll be signing off now!
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
02 July 2009
Why is it always so hard to come up with a good title?
Apparently I fail at remembering my own work schedule. I was at White's yesterday, not the booth, so I had to work all day. I have today off, and then I'm in the booth tomorrow. Silly. Yesterday was the worst day ever, I almost puked because I was dehydrated. Never again will I take only two bottles of water to a satellite.
I called the Canadian Cancer Society today, and they have my sponsor sheets and everything ready for me! So Mom's going to pick them up this afternoon after she's done working, and then we'll be good to go! Anyone who wants to donate can talk to me or the Radish or Allison (you need a nick-name, girl. What'll it be?) because they are now the only two peeps doing with with me. Argh. Stupid people keep backing out. But it's kinda my own fault for taking so long to get sponsor sheets. We won't be sending in the monies until probably September, so you don't even have to have money now, you can get it to us until September. Please donate, it's all going under Geoffrey's name.
Mister Cherd, I hope you get home soon, because I actually can't wait to see you again. I hope you're having the time of your life, singing your little heart out, but please don't like the glamour of it too much, or you'll never come home! I miss you a whole lot, and would probably go competely and utterly mad if you decided not to come home. In any case, I'd cry a whole lot. So come home soon, and call me ASAP!
And I can't type properly today, so I'm signing out.
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
Pee to the Ess: I just found this, and although I still can't type properly, I have to link it. It's awesome. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkKLANmUbF4&feature=channel
I called the Canadian Cancer Society today, and they have my sponsor sheets and everything ready for me! So Mom's going to pick them up this afternoon after she's done working, and then we'll be good to go! Anyone who wants to donate can talk to me or the Radish or Allison (you need a nick-name, girl. What'll it be?) because they are now the only two peeps doing with with me. Argh. Stupid people keep backing out. But it's kinda my own fault for taking so long to get sponsor sheets. We won't be sending in the monies until probably September, so you don't even have to have money now, you can get it to us until September. Please donate, it's all going under Geoffrey's name.
Mister Cherd, I hope you get home soon, because I actually can't wait to see you again. I hope you're having the time of your life, singing your little heart out, but please don't like the glamour of it too much, or you'll never come home! I miss you a whole lot, and would probably go competely and utterly mad if you decided not to come home. In any case, I'd cry a whole lot. So come home soon, and call me ASAP!
And I can't type properly today, so I'm signing out.
DFTBA,
Jennie.Rae
Pee to the Ess: I just found this, and although I still can't type properly, I have to link it. It's awesome. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkKLANmUbF4&feature=channel
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