"Not now! I'm performing the shortest heist in 'Alias' history!"
I am single-handedly (okay, I'll use both hands) going to attempt to give you the biggest update since... ever. This update will contain photographs, other stuff, and a whole lot of me yapping about who-knows-what. If you need to get a beverage or a snack, I'd suggest you do it now, or wait for intermission. (But who knows when that'll be.)
On Memorial Day I went down to the graveyard where my grandparents are buried with my parents. I had not been there since my grandfather was buried last February. My aunts had done their gravesite up pretty nicely; there was a flag for my grandfather (a veteran), and some flowers, and windchimes on my grandmother's side of the grave. I took a little video of those, but I won't share that with you. It was mostly just for me.
This is my grandparents' grave.
This is the plaque on the back honoring my grandpa. I hadn't seen this before, and it really touched me. He was a special guy... they were both special people, and I miss them very much.
I also took some other pictures at the graveyard while my parents were "visiting" with Gramma and Poppa.
The Monster sign was fairly new, and I think the boy's friends probably stole it from the convenience store in town. (Yes, there's only one... there's also only one stoplight.)
This is the gravesite with the little red cross on it. No name, but someone obviously cares for it.
This was the picture that meant the most to me. This little boy and I share the same birthday, albeit many years apart. And while I grew up around a cemetery and was always fond of a few different graves, children I called my "sisters," I never found one that had the same birthday as me. I think he is my "brother."
Moving onto un-graveyard-related news, I have a challenge to issue to my readers!
Let me tell you what it is - it's blue bubblegum on the bottom of one of my ballet slippers (leather). I wore them when I crashed the Honors College Ball, for reasons that are way too complicated to iterate here (basically, they're flat and compactible and there was twelve inches of snow on the ground and I wasn't going to wear my boots to the ball and I had no room for actual shoes in my bag), and then at some point I stepped in bubblegum. I got most of it off with my fingers, but this is what remains. If you can tell me how to get it off, I will gift you with a few things:
1.) my instant gratitude
2.) an instant quote from your favorite TV show/movie
3.) something shiny!
And now back to our regularly-scheduled... whatever this is.
In the Let's-Admit-Shameful-Truths section of today's update, I am way too much in love with writing Raynefic.
I know.
It's terrible.
I have to stop.
But I can't.
You might be saying, "What about your novel?"
... It is a casualty in the custody battle for my heart between Raynefic and real stuff.
Dammit. (I would add "Whedon" here, but it's unnecessary and also... untrue.)
Plus, Whedon has my never-ending gratitude and gigantic grins because he... mightputSummerGlauonDollhousewhichwouldbethebestthingeverSQUEE.
Sorry. Fangirl moment. It's over now. Reboot.
Last weekend I went to C's house and we had buckets of fun. BUCKETS. It started out with her giving me an entire tote bag of books. (And I got to see her new wheelchair, which is SO AWESOME that it deserves its own series of sentences. No more gigantic vent tray! Everything's all neat and compact on the back!) And then we went on an ADVENTURE! We took the bus downtown to go shopping/browsing at such wonderful places as VAULT OF MIDNIGHT (sorry, that one you do have to do in capitals), Peaceable Kingdom, Crazy Wisdom, Falling Water, and... a bunch of other places. We even went for coffee (even though I got lemonade). C mocked my tiny water glass. We started writing one of the most... interesting... fanfics I've ever been a part of. We went to the library and got too many books (no, really - we had to put a gigantic health book under C's feet on her wheelchair footrest). And we laughed a lot.
Unfortunately, I forgot my camera, so you're just going to have to believe me on this.
I like to stay up late... and it's nearly impossible for my mom to stay up late. That's why I was so amused when my mother came downstairs shortly after 2 am, when I was watching "Golden Girls" (and writing Raynefic, but we don't have to mention that). And she stayed up for more than a half hour with me, talking!
Don't get me wrong, I loved this. I've noticed that since I quit going to therapy, I'm happier and brighter and a lot more willing to talk about stuff with my mom. (Which is ironic, since that's exactly the opposite of how I should be, apparently.)
I can't remember everything we talked about... mostly about graduating from school, which scares the hell out of me, and what I want to do after that. We talked about interpreter school, and how the odds are good I'll have to transfer out. And then she asked me what my dream job is... and I told her that it's NOT being an interpreter, oddly enough. My dream job is a nurse at Mott.
But I have no way to make this happen, at least not one that I can see. I have already spent more than four years in college and I will be lucky to graduate with my English degree. With my learning disabilities and other mental failings, I don't see a way to take the required math and science classes more than one or two at a time (which would make the going very slow). I don't have the grades to get into nursing school at MSU (sad, but also true). I haven't taken any of the pre-requisites. And because I see all of these obstacles in front of me, I decided to "settle" for medical interpreting, which, although it would be nice, is not what I really want to do. I want to be a nurse.
I want it. I want it. I really do. I am obscenely jealous of people I know who are getting their nursing degree. And every time I'm in a hospital, like today, when I had to get bloodwork done, I'm acutely aware of how much I love that environment, and how much I want to be a part of it.
And maybe it's just me, just right now, but I'm losing my grip on my enjoyment of school. I'm floundering. I want answers but none exist. And believe me, if my university offered "Firefly Studies" or "Summer Glau" as a major, I'd be out of there like a shot. But they don't, so I'm not.
I can think of no other solution for right now than to pray about it and continue to search for options.
My mom says that if you want something badly enough, you'll figure out how to get it. And I'd love to believe this is true... but I want so damn much and I'm just so tired right now of scrambling for answers.
If anyone has any suggestions about how to go about this, I'm listening!
My sister had her final choir concert this week. Her choir teacher is the same one who was teaching when I was in high school, and now she works with the middle schoolers too. I absolutely adored this teacher, Mrs. A, and while I never spent a lot of time in choir, I was in a band that accompanied the show-choir, and I did a bunch of other stuff in the music department, so I knew her pretty well.
My family ended up sitting next to one of my mom's book club friends and her family. Her daughter T had been in choir with Mrs. A, and T was actually the Wicked Witch of the West in the production of "The Wizard of Oz" that I was in the orchestra pit for. (We called ourselves the Stealth Winkie Pit, but that's a really long story.) And apparently T goes to MSU too (something I didn't know). So Mrs. A saw T and I sitting in the same row, and informs us cheerily that at the end of the eighth grade presentation, she's inviting all alumni onstage to sing "Seasons of Love." (I know. It's trite and it's weird, especially because it's from a musical Kate-sham calls "AIDS the Musical.") T immediately went, "Nooo!" and her mom was all, "It'll be good for you" and I said, "I'll go if you go."
Which was how I ended up onstage at the community auditorium singing "Seasons of Love."
It's not a great story, but I figured I should throw it in there.
And finally, FINALLY (I know, you're poking your eyes out already), I must reiterate my love for Ducky, and for the Reduced Firefly Company as a whole. Just when I think we can't get any stranger, or funnier, or more inventive, we do. And when I think we've exhausted all possible costuming options for sock puppets... we think up something new. I have to say that of all the people I've ever spent time under tables with, Ducky's my favorite.
And when I think we've run out of ideas, suddenly we're full of them. We've bandied about several other ideas for our next videos, and while I can't say exactly which ones we'll pick, we have discussed a tribute to ABBA, an 80's-themed video (heavy on the Madonna, naturally), and a "Sesame Street" medley.
So there were going to be two videos attached to this, but I'm running out of steam and YouTube is giving me fits. They will have to wait until tomorrow.
And tomorrow I'm enacting a new tradition - Road Trip Saturday. Less Whedon and pizza than Shindig Fridays, but I'm hoping the end results will still be pleasant.
I miss you all very much, especially if your name is "________" (insert your name here).
On Memorial Day I went down to the graveyard where my grandparents are buried with my parents. I had not been there since my grandfather was buried last February. My aunts had done their gravesite up pretty nicely; there was a flag for my grandfather (a veteran), and some flowers, and windchimes on my grandmother's side of the grave. I took a little video of those, but I won't share that with you. It was mostly just for me.
This is my grandparents' grave.
This is the plaque on the back honoring my grandpa. I hadn't seen this before, and it really touched me. He was a special guy... they were both special people, and I miss them very much.
I also took some other pictures at the graveyard while my parents were "visiting" with Gramma and Poppa.
The Monster sign was fairly new, and I think the boy's friends probably stole it from the convenience store in town. (Yes, there's only one... there's also only one stoplight.)
This is the gravesite with the little red cross on it. No name, but someone obviously cares for it.
This was the picture that meant the most to me. This little boy and I share the same birthday, albeit many years apart. And while I grew up around a cemetery and was always fond of a few different graves, children I called my "sisters," I never found one that had the same birthday as me. I think he is my "brother."
Moving onto un-graveyard-related news, I have a challenge to issue to my readers!
Let me tell you what it is - it's blue bubblegum on the bottom of one of my ballet slippers (leather). I wore them when I crashed the Honors College Ball, for reasons that are way too complicated to iterate here (basically, they're flat and compactible and there was twelve inches of snow on the ground and I wasn't going to wear my boots to the ball and I had no room for actual shoes in my bag), and then at some point I stepped in bubblegum. I got most of it off with my fingers, but this is what remains. If you can tell me how to get it off, I will gift you with a few things:
1.) my instant gratitude
2.) an instant quote from your favorite TV show/movie
3.) something shiny!
And now back to our regularly-scheduled... whatever this is.
In the Let's-Admit-Shameful-Truths section of today's update, I am way too much in love with writing Raynefic.
I know.
It's terrible.
I have to stop.
But I can't.
You might be saying, "What about your novel?"
... It is a casualty in the custody battle for my heart between Raynefic and real stuff.
Dammit. (I would add "Whedon" here, but it's unnecessary and also... untrue.)
Plus, Whedon has my never-ending gratitude and gigantic grins because he... mightputSummerGlauonDollhousewhichwouldbethebestthingeverSQUEE.
Sorry. Fangirl moment. It's over now. Reboot.
Last weekend I went to C's house and we had buckets of fun. BUCKETS. It started out with her giving me an entire tote bag of books. (And I got to see her new wheelchair, which is SO AWESOME that it deserves its own series of sentences. No more gigantic vent tray! Everything's all neat and compact on the back!) And then we went on an ADVENTURE! We took the bus downtown to go shopping/browsing at such wonderful places as VAULT OF MIDNIGHT (sorry, that one you do have to do in capitals), Peaceable Kingdom, Crazy Wisdom, Falling Water, and... a bunch of other places. We even went for coffee (even though I got lemonade). C mocked my tiny water glass. We started writing one of the most... interesting... fanfics I've ever been a part of. We went to the library and got too many books (no, really - we had to put a gigantic health book under C's feet on her wheelchair footrest). And we laughed a lot.
Unfortunately, I forgot my camera, so you're just going to have to believe me on this.
I like to stay up late... and it's nearly impossible for my mom to stay up late. That's why I was so amused when my mother came downstairs shortly after 2 am, when I was watching "Golden Girls" (and writing Raynefic, but we don't have to mention that). And she stayed up for more than a half hour with me, talking!
Don't get me wrong, I loved this. I've noticed that since I quit going to therapy, I'm happier and brighter and a lot more willing to talk about stuff with my mom. (Which is ironic, since that's exactly the opposite of how I should be, apparently.)
I can't remember everything we talked about... mostly about graduating from school, which scares the hell out of me, and what I want to do after that. We talked about interpreter school, and how the odds are good I'll have to transfer out. And then she asked me what my dream job is... and I told her that it's NOT being an interpreter, oddly enough. My dream job is a nurse at Mott.
But I have no way to make this happen, at least not one that I can see. I have already spent more than four years in college and I will be lucky to graduate with my English degree. With my learning disabilities and other mental failings, I don't see a way to take the required math and science classes more than one or two at a time (which would make the going very slow). I don't have the grades to get into nursing school at MSU (sad, but also true). I haven't taken any of the pre-requisites. And because I see all of these obstacles in front of me, I decided to "settle" for medical interpreting, which, although it would be nice, is not what I really want to do. I want to be a nurse.
I want it. I want it. I really do. I am obscenely jealous of people I know who are getting their nursing degree. And every time I'm in a hospital, like today, when I had to get bloodwork done, I'm acutely aware of how much I love that environment, and how much I want to be a part of it.
And maybe it's just me, just right now, but I'm losing my grip on my enjoyment of school. I'm floundering. I want answers but none exist. And believe me, if my university offered "Firefly Studies" or "Summer Glau" as a major, I'd be out of there like a shot. But they don't, so I'm not.
I can think of no other solution for right now than to pray about it and continue to search for options.
My mom says that if you want something badly enough, you'll figure out how to get it. And I'd love to believe this is true... but I want so damn much and I'm just so tired right now of scrambling for answers.
If anyone has any suggestions about how to go about this, I'm listening!
My sister had her final choir concert this week. Her choir teacher is the same one who was teaching when I was in high school, and now she works with the middle schoolers too. I absolutely adored this teacher, Mrs. A, and while I never spent a lot of time in choir, I was in a band that accompanied the show-choir, and I did a bunch of other stuff in the music department, so I knew her pretty well.
My family ended up sitting next to one of my mom's book club friends and her family. Her daughter T had been in choir with Mrs. A, and T was actually the Wicked Witch of the West in the production of "The Wizard of Oz" that I was in the orchestra pit for. (We called ourselves the Stealth Winkie Pit, but that's a really long story.) And apparently T goes to MSU too (something I didn't know). So Mrs. A saw T and I sitting in the same row, and informs us cheerily that at the end of the eighth grade presentation, she's inviting all alumni onstage to sing "Seasons of Love." (I know. It's trite and it's weird, especially because it's from a musical Kate-sham calls "AIDS the Musical.") T immediately went, "Nooo!" and her mom was all, "It'll be good for you" and I said, "I'll go if you go."
Which was how I ended up onstage at the community auditorium singing "Seasons of Love."
It's not a great story, but I figured I should throw it in there.
And finally, FINALLY (I know, you're poking your eyes out already), I must reiterate my love for Ducky, and for the Reduced Firefly Company as a whole. Just when I think we can't get any stranger, or funnier, or more inventive, we do. And when I think we've exhausted all possible costuming options for sock puppets... we think up something new. I have to say that of all the people I've ever spent time under tables with, Ducky's my favorite.
And when I think we've run out of ideas, suddenly we're full of them. We've bandied about several other ideas for our next videos, and while I can't say exactly which ones we'll pick, we have discussed a tribute to ABBA, an 80's-themed video (heavy on the Madonna, naturally), and a "Sesame Street" medley.
So there were going to be two videos attached to this, but I'm running out of steam and YouTube is giving me fits. They will have to wait until tomorrow.
And tomorrow I'm enacting a new tradition - Road Trip Saturday. Less Whedon and pizza than Shindig Fridays, but I'm hoping the end results will still be pleasant.
I miss you all very much, especially if your name is "________" (insert your name here).