i would have called melissa more.
what would you have done differently?
i would have called melissa more.
what would you have done differently?
i got my dream journal set up in moveable type.
hoo-rah: im on a roll.
its the season of change, i tell you.
thigs are just chug-chug-chuggin along. hows the ride?
how can i not get through to some peoples brains that full justification is never, ever, EVER a good idea. just because lovely pagemaker gives me the option to full justify a paragraph does not mean that it should be used.
update: damon just informed me that the feature of which i speak is called 'force' justified. that is the evil one.
ever do anything over and over just to make someone else happy but discover you actually hate it?
not that i can think of.
what are your feelings about celebrating halloween?
i dont celebrate it. i dont like its origins. but i do like celebrating the season - so ill carve pumpkins and collect pretty leaves and bake pumpkin seeds. but no trick-or-treating. never have, never will.
are there any stories of bodily functions you would prefer people not share with you in conversation?
i refuse to be part of a conversation about pooping. i dont want to hear about it. i dont want to know about it.
what do you think is the most important aspect of personal hygiene that bothers you when people overlook it?
body odor. this includes forgetting to bathe for, oh, a month or so, as well as bathing every morning in a vat of perfume. the way a person smells can be very powerful (in that negative get-away-from-me way) if the person is not careful.
ponder the thought of being forever young, living on endlessly, being immortal. what would that life be like for you?
if i were the only one, it would be terribly lonely. i would have to watch friends and family age then die. that doesnt sound like my cup of tea. besides, im looking forward to heaven.
what's the last thing you felt was "worth fighting for?"
my husband with his internet gaming addiction.
im so tired of being the bad guy.
how many people you know will turn out to be purely evil?
blogger has been hacked into. woah.
thankfully i dont use blogger, but i am a guest poster on someones account, so it does indirectly affect me.
the site has been more webloggy than journal this past month. its probably gonna stay that way for a while.
i just cant bring myself to offer a running commentary of my thought processes. flow-of-consciousness writing would be awfully depressing right now; i wouldnt want to read it, how can i expect you to?
emotions are up and down, but more down than up. tears still flow all too frequently.
im depressed. my legs havent been shaved since i was in homer. some dishes havent been washed since then, either (just the ones on the bottom of the pile, you see). no nails have been painted, but at least i clip them once in a while. cooking has been left to fast food restaurants - perhaps thats part of the reason im not eating as often, or as much, as i ought.
im angry. at myself for not being there for melissa. at the 16 year old girl who didnt even tap her damn brakes before plowing into the motorcycle. at my father for being an all-around asshole. and at God for not giving me a chance to save her, for taking away my future with her, for not protecting her.
im sad. that my children will never have the chance to know her. that we will not be able to grow old and crotchety together. that i will never see her in a wedding gown. that i will never again be awoken by her tearful phone calls. that i cannot go to her graveside on a whim.
im indecisive. i really want to have a physical thing that says 'i loved my baby sister and by getting a copy of her tattoo on my body i will never forget her.' but will i regret it when im not in the throes of sharp grief? the idea of tattooing has never appealed to me - will i come to hate it?
do not attempt to cheer me up - its only been just over a month. do not ask me how i am doing; you do not really want to know, and i really do not want to get into it. do not tell me that Gods will has a purpose and all things work together for the fucking good. let me know youre thinking of me, but do not say that youre sorry.
im grieving. let me.
take some time and build a face.
i cant say that ive ever seen a flip-book type thing using actual photographs... and the created faces are flawless. its beautiful, really.
i almost forgot - today is Mole day!
(guess you have to be a chemistry nerd...)
i was rudely awoken at 3.30 this morning by a large earthquake. its been a long time since ive felt one that big - and a 6.2 is kinda big.
b was so protective over me. he was still awake, and ran to the bed to snatch me into a doorway if the situation deemed necessary. i guess ive lived with big earthquakes for so long that they dont scare me. we dont get them as frequently as other states, but what we get are bigger.
nothing in our apartment fell, but the waterbed sure did jiggle about. its more the sound of the thing that woke me. that intense, deep-in-the-ground rumbling that you can hear long before you feel anything move.
and when did we stop using the richter scale to measure quakes? what scale is currently in use?
this fetish flowchart is surprisingly thorough.
one question: what, exactly, is a 'human parrot' fetish?
heres a rubiks cube you cant take apart and reassemble. nor can you remove the stickers to make the assembly much easier. however, you get your very own team of astronauts to guide you in your quest.
its very theraputical, though perhaps a tad unhealthy, to run over people.
beth and i went out for an ice cream run late yesterday afternoon and i suggested we stop by value village because i had wanted to all weekend and hadnt yet gotten the chance.
so we did. i managed to get a cool cribbage board with the metal posts for 99¢, one sleevless sweater thing for work, and two sexy tank tops for play. and boy do they ever showcase my boobs nicely (no, i wont share any pics).
we were walking down the shoe aisle, and beth spots this hideous pink color. (when shopping there together, we pick out items that fall into two categories: the goregeous and the hideous. we intend to make the other squeel in delight or run away vomiting. its fun, really. where was i?)
she grabs this shoe and stops. stops moving, stops talking, stops breathing. i turn to find out if the shoe bit her, and she shoves the sole into my face. on a beautiful white piece of fabric is his name. HIS name. the shoe-god's name. Manolo Blahnik.
we started chanting his name - at first in confusion, but later with unknown ecstacy. our hearts were pumping, my face was flushed, i was getting warm. neither she nor i had ever seen, let along touched an actual Manolo Blahnik shoe.
it was a hideous pink colored sandal. one strap across the toes with a bow-like tie in the center, and a strap that cris-crossed across the front of the ankle and buckled at the side. beautiful. it was marked as a 7.5, although his shoes actually have european sizes. i think this one was a 37, maybe? beth usually wears a 7.5 (i a 10); i forced her to sit down right there and try the thing on. she couldnt squeeze her toes into it, so im certain it wasnt a 7.5. however, while she was down there, she saw another pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes!
this second pair was a white patent-leather with a black detailing line around its edges. it had an open toe, and an ankle strap that warped around once before buckling. it had a slight scuff mark on the top of one of its toes. neither one of the pair looked like they had been worn more than once, and were hardly walked in.
and how much, you wonder, would a pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes cost? brand new from the boutique, you'll pay anywhere from $300 to $1500. a season or two old from ebay, youll find them from $100 to $600.
three seasons old (were guessing) from value village, we got them for $7.99 (the pink pair) and $5.99 (the white pair with the scuff mark).
it completely made my weekend.
take a word association test and astound your friends.
im a little dissapointed that the list of items i have 'issues' with are based on the amount of time it took for me to answer. because i blinked a little too long, i have issues with 'children'. yet i dont have any issues with my father because it only took me .62 seconds to give him a big fat negative rating.
when wearing an elasticized waistband, ones bladder behaves itself quite nicely.
when wearing a skirt with the clever shorts attached underneath, thick tights, and a thong, ones bladder shrinks to 1/3 its size and must empty every 5 minutes.
one creepy oxymoron: leonard nimoy's erotic photogrphy.
as dave says, at least hes not in the photos.
working with people who dont know how to troubleshoot a faulty wire
i cant believe work is paying for this.
the coolest illusion ive ever seen.
i had to open it up in photoshop to actually believe it.
take a dialect survey. youll find yourself mumbling hundreds of words to your monitor, and youll find other people giving you odd looks.
or maybe that was just me.
so i started my a+ class today. im on lunch - need to be back in a half hour.
so far my teacher likes to talk. im one of four students. one of which had to be shown how to download things from the internte, the other asked, 'so, does gigabyte mean memory?'
this is going to be a long class, and i dont think we will get through the entire 22 chapters without a lot of at-home reading. which sucks majorly.
i need a two hour (minimum) nap.
was checking my account balance online to see if we were overdrawn yet or not (with b not working right now, it happens more often than not), and i just noticed something.
our permanent fund dividends were deposited into our account yesterday.
wanna know how much we got?
its good to live in alaska.
this morning there is close to an inch of snow on the ground.
and i dont have snow tires. all i do have, actually, are some bad summer tires - not even all-weather.
but i made it to work safe and only 10 minutes late.
in other news, today is b's birthday! he is twenty two.
They could be fascist anarchists and it still wouldn't change the fact that I don't own a car.
how is one expected to get out of bed by 7.20 when ones husband and dog come to bed at 7.05 and proceed to cuddle with one?
i watched television last night for the first time in forever. er was on; it was the first time i had seen it in two forevers.
guess what one of their patients were?
a teen girl in a motorcycle accident. dead on arrival.
i watched as they pushed her body all over the first floor, trying to make room for the living. i watched as the doctor told the father that she had died.
it brought everything back all over again. fuck. i couldnt stop crying. cried myself to sleep right there on the couch.
moral of the story: when a close relative/friend dies in a non-natural way, do not, i repeat, do NOT watch er.
some weird google referrals:
if your armpit pain has nothing to do with underwires, i would suggest going to a doctor
a good way to gague their freshness, i presume
7up can anal
perhaps a gross mispelling of '7up canal'?
burying dead pet dog in yard
is this so difficult of a procedure that someone needs instructions?
my grandfather made me touch his penis
many freaky searches result in a page from my dream journal.
my toenails are always painted red
they are not.
you know that coughing till you vomit thing?
yeah. i have that too. still.
[edit: the last post was freaky-long and supa-boring. i condensed.]
to inform you, my faithful readers, as well as myself as to this whole grieving process, i did a cursory research. i had known that there were steps of grief, but i had assumed there was a specific order in which they were felt. the only times i had seen them, they were in a numbered list:
1. Denial and Isolation
but ive definitely been feeling a little of everything since last sunday. i wish i had known what to expect with this whole grieving process. "Your feelings and emotions after someone's death can profoundly affect how you relate to others and get through your daily routine."
this list of activities to help through grief may actually be helpful. it suggests a journal - maybe i should move mine off of my mail webloggish-journal page. im sure this isnt interesting to anyone but me.
if youre considering talking to me, or interacting with anyone who is suffering a loss, you should know what to do and dont say. definitely do not go into the 'everything will be a-ok' crap. ill bite off your head.
(did you know that there is a national museum of funeral history? tickets are $6 a head, but there are group rates available. shudder.)
in hindsight, i am very glad i went to her funeral. it definitely helped. i wouldnt have had any closure at all, and i would have been completely happy living in denial. but just prior and during i sure wanted to leave. im thankful that it was an open casket. her body looked like a really bad wax sculpture of herself. with gobs of makeup (she never did know how to put on foundation... but she didnt need it).
i took part in a few rituals at the funeral. and i dont think im done with them. nothing feels like enough to honor her.
damon and i stole some (3) orange road cones* from a road construction area; i snipped a lock of her hair and tied it with a ribbon; i burned the two cds that she had asked me for just the previous day and placed it in her casket; i wore a skirt to the funeral that i had bought for her in hawaii but decided i liked it too much to give it away; i pinned a black ribbon to my lapel; ive been wearing her class ring on my pinky; ive been wearing her necklace; i buried a few items that had special relevance to our relationship; i bought the last two copies of bio dome in fairbanks, placing one in her casket and one in my dvd player (i watched it, too).
these things are supposed to help me move on and get through my grief. but what if i dont want to move on? what if all i want to do is lie in bed, be depressed, and cry?
* the week before she left for minnesota, melissa and some friends took a bunch of road cones and blocked off one (of two) major roads in homer. the cops stopped them and told them to 'dont do that.' she was very proud of herself and, i have to admit, it was very funny. the police report was in the same paper as her obituary. she would be very proud of damon and i.
things seem so pointless.
eating, waking, working.
pointless, pointless, pointless.
a terrible tradgedy has fallen - why should i be concerned that my toenails havent been painted in more than a month? or that the tub needs a good scrubbing? or that i have a webloggish-journal to update?
things are also seeming grossly unfair.
why do i get to watch that episode of seinfeld, and she doesnt? why do i get to wear her class ring and she doesnt? why do i get to mature into a fine adult with a wonderful husband and hyper dog and she doesnt? why do i get to have children and she doesnt? why do i get to breathe and she doesnt? why do i have to move on without her?
(my first day back at work is considerably less than productive).
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