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