See? Told You!
Ha. A real entry (probably only because I want to procrastinate from studying).
Things have been going better, for the most part. The funeral, seeing and interacting with all of my more unusual family members was sufficiently awkward, but...somehow fitting. Tears were shed, food was spent, and every restaurant he loved in Seattle accepted his credit card (mainly seafood places). We made jokes about how cheap he was--there is corn muffin mix in his cupboard that he was "saving" from 1980,--and we opened "the crypt," a locked closet that no one had seen into before. Horribly disappointing. My grandmother's jewelery was in there, as expected, but other than that it was expired passports and various kitchen appliances. I had no idea what we did expect...but not that. The only interesting thing about the crypt was that the jewelery of my grandmother's he saved, specifically saved, isn't the valuable stuff. It's pretty, and has a lot of memories, but we don't know where the pearls and diamonds are. Not in a "we're desperate to get our paws on them" kind of way, but seriously. We don't know where they are. They're lost extremely well hidden.
It's the little moments that I miss him now. We were going over his many, many, many airplane books at his house, trying to decide which ones would be useful to the Museum of Flight when it his us. He won't see his airplane fly. It kills me. He spent 15 years restoring this plane, and it's still not done. Close, but not flight-ready. So, I don't know. Maybe I'll help them next summer. I may not know a thing about engineering, but I have two hands, I'm smart and (thanks to him) I know way more about B-29's than any non-Boeing employee should.
School is going fine. Or, will be after Thursday. I have only one midterm (on minority voting), and I have no idea what will happen. I don't think I know much about it, truthfully, but I seem to do alright answering discussion questions in class. And, I'm good at bull-shitting political science. I don't have to be right...I just have to convince everyone I am.
I don't know what I'm doing for Christmas, and it's starting to stress me out a little bit. My boss(es) are starting to harass me for my schedule, and ack. I just don't know. I may head down to Denver, but I won't know for another couple weeks. It's dependent on my aunt getting back from China, and whether or not she will have buddy passes (see: almost free airplane tickets) for me, as I don't really want to spend $700 on a coach ticket to Denver. Andddddd even if I do get buddy passes, do I really think I'm going to get stand-by on December 22 or 23? HA HA HA HA.
ETA: Because it's stuck in my head, and I'm oddly proud of it. I learned my first song in Norwegian today. It reminds me of the Japanese fish heaven song (I need to learn that dance, like now). The chorus goes:
fiskeboller lengter etter havet, havet
havet et fiskeboller hjem
do be do be do
A fiskeboller is kind of like a meatball, but made with fish. I've yet to try one, but the whole idea sounds kind of icky to me. Anyways, the translation is "the fiskeboller longs for the sea; the sea is the fiskeboller's home," and the rest of the song is about how we eat the fiskeboller, it makes the other fiskeboller's sad and that they don't get to go back to the sea. Cheerful, ain't it?
Things have been going better, for the most part. The funeral, seeing and interacting with all of my more unusual family members was sufficiently awkward, but...somehow fitting. Tears were shed, food was spent, and every restaurant he loved in Seattle accepted his credit card (mainly seafood places). We made jokes about how cheap he was--there is corn muffin mix in his cupboard that he was "saving" from 1980,--and we opened "the crypt," a locked closet that no one had seen into before. Horribly disappointing. My grandmother's jewelery was in there, as expected, but other than that it was expired passports and various kitchen appliances. I had no idea what we did expect...but not that. The only interesting thing about the crypt was that the jewelery of my grandmother's he saved, specifically saved, isn't the valuable stuff. It's pretty, and has a lot of memories, but we don't know where the pearls and diamonds are. Not in a "we're desperate to get our paws on them" kind of way, but seriously. We don't know where they are. They're lost extremely well hidden.
It's the little moments that I miss him now. We were going over his many, many, many airplane books at his house, trying to decide which ones would be useful to the Museum of Flight when it his us. He won't see his airplane fly. It kills me. He spent 15 years restoring this plane, and it's still not done. Close, but not flight-ready. So, I don't know. Maybe I'll help them next summer. I may not know a thing about engineering, but I have two hands, I'm smart and (thanks to him) I know way more about B-29's than any non-Boeing employee should.
School is going fine. Or, will be after Thursday. I have only one midterm (on minority voting), and I have no idea what will happen. I don't think I know much about it, truthfully, but I seem to do alright answering discussion questions in class. And, I'm good at bull-shitting political science. I don't have to be right...I just have to convince everyone I am.
I don't know what I'm doing for Christmas, and it's starting to stress me out a little bit. My boss(es) are starting to harass me for my schedule, and ack. I just don't know. I may head down to Denver, but I won't know for another couple weeks. It's dependent on my aunt getting back from China, and whether or not she will have buddy passes (see: almost free airplane tickets) for me, as I don't really want to spend $700 on a coach ticket to Denver. Andddddd even if I do get buddy passes, do I really think I'm going to get stand-by on December 22 or 23? HA HA HA HA.
ETA: Because it's stuck in my head, and I'm oddly proud of it. I learned my first song in Norwegian today. It reminds me of the Japanese fish heaven song (I need to learn that dance, like now). The chorus goes:
fiskeboller lengter etter havet, havet
havet et fiskeboller hjem
do be do be do
A fiskeboller is kind of like a meatball, but made with fish. I've yet to try one, but the whole idea sounds kind of icky to me. Anyways, the translation is "the fiskeboller longs for the sea; the sea is the fiskeboller's home," and the rest of the song is about how we eat the fiskeboller, it makes the other fiskeboller's sad and that they don't get to go back to the sea. Cheerful, ain't it?