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

Deep thoughts and insights (don't expect this to happen too often)

Today was a bit of a bust. I went shopping for a pair of black beach shorts, a pair of denim capris and a pair of khaki capris. (Wow, khaki is a hard word to type.) I bought a dress and a sweater. WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ME?!? This is not the way it goes sometimes, no, it is the way it always goes. This is how I shoppe. I need skirts, I buy pants. I need sweaters, I buy t-shirts. I need shorts, I buy dresses. ARGH!! So frustrating.

But, I did go to Wilson & Lee, which is possibly the bestest music store in existance. I bought harder Phantom of the Opera music, because I was sick of playing the easy stuff I had. I also bought a song called "I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack. It's pretty much the most beautiful song I've heard in a long time. I shall post the first verse, just because I don't feel like typing up the whole thing, but I want to share part of it. The first verse goes thus:

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder.
You get your fill to eat, but always keep that hunger.
May you never take one single breath for granted.
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed.
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean.
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens.
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance.
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,
I hope you dance.

So, I've basically been denying God since August. And for ten months I've been unhappy and tired and lonely. I've been longing to feel God, but he hasn't been giving me what I wanted. I wanted Geoffrey back. But that's never going to happen. I have to believe. I've been hearing him calling out to me for a while now (and yeah, Kara, I guess you were right, even though I hate to admit it), and it's been all me trying to shut him out. I was angry, and I was hurt. But I guess that every relationship has those rocky bits. This has been mine with God. This year has been utter crap. Not only did I have to deal with losing Geoffrey, but I also had to deal with almost losing Crystal. Everyone says, "Wouldn't it be great if we could be the reason that someone didn't commit suicide?" And that's a noble thought, to be sure. But when you're actually in the situation, with one of your best friends, it's not so great. When your best friend tells you she's done, and wants out, and that if you weren't there she would have jumped off the bridge, you think, Why didn't I notice something earlier? Why didn't I see this coming? After all, I knew she was in and out of guidance all the time, and that the guidance counsellors took her to see doctors and everything. But when she told me that, my life stopped, and I focussed all my energy on keeping her life as live-able as possible. It was hard.

And I had my own difficulties on top of that - Geoffrey, first and foremost, but I wasn't exactly the cheery, bubbly girl I usually am, and I think that if I'd gone to see a doctor, they'd have put me on happy pills. I was afraid of being put on happy pills, so I faked like I was happy, and hated anyone who saw through it. And I pushed God away from me.

I'm not going to say that was a mistake. I needed time on my own, and just then I couldn't (and still and having a hard time with) talk(ing) to God. He was too big, too distant, and he couldn't love me, or else Geoffrey wouldn't be dead now. But maybe, just maybe, I need to talk things over with him.

So, if I end up getting rained out of the pick your own (PYO) tomorrow (which I probably will) God and I shall have a little chat. I shall tell you how it goes. I don't expect to get right back on track with where I was with God at the beginning of August, or anything, being best friends and all. But I think it's time to forgive and move on. I've learned my lesson, I've had my being ripped in two and put back together again in a very different way, and I think it's time that I tried to talk to God again. However, I've said this before, and it never amounted to anything.

I think, above all, I'm scared.

On a happier note, the PYO is now open, and so hopefully I'll be spending a good chunk of my summer there, and I shall be one happy camper. Except I shan't be a camper, because I can't afford to take time off to go camping. But I shall be happy, nonetheless.

DFTBA,

Jennie.Rae

A partidge in a pear tree!

So yeah, I had typed up most of what I was going to say, and then my whole post disappeared. Not happy.

And now I'm too tired really to post anything. I was reading about making money off of publishing ads, but I think I won't do that until I get my own place - because they have to call you and have to mail you stuff, and I don't really feel like explaining it all to my parents. Not that I think they'd care, I just don't think I really want to.

Anway, tomorrow is my day off, and I'm going shopping with my mommy in Toronto! Capris and shorts. Maybe I can get a new sundress, and perhaps some new sheet music, too. I want to learn music that I like, not what my teacher wants me to play. Because, I'm not taking lessons anymore! It's such a weird feeling, that I only have to see Margrit once more, and then I don't ever have to see her again, if I don't want to. I just have to drop off her books again, and then I never have to see her again! It's so weird. I've been going to her every Monday after school for so long, it's hard to imagine a school year without having to practise every day. Not that I think I'll miss it.

I realised not too long ago, that I never actually played the piano for me. I wanted to start because my sisters did, and I kept going because my parents wanted me to get my grade eight. I think there were really only two years that I really enjoyed playing. I mean, there are still pieces that I love to play, and I simply adore pianos in general, but I only really enjoyed playing the RCM pieces in grade six and seven. Piano, not school. But now I'm done.

And I'm done blogging for today, too.

DFTBA,

Jennie.Rae