Slightly backdated stuff...
RIGHT!!! This stuff actually dates back to 5/25/07 until present, but I didn’t get to post it until today, the 27th. So here goes:
5/25/07-- Day… uh, let’s see… Day 7 of 14 of my vacation; not much happening today, although last night’s dinner was freaking amazing. My little sister and her husband decided that it was time for some really GOOD seafood, and we had freshly-boiled blue crab, shrimp and crawfish with little potatoes and garlic-bread. **slurp** I ate tons; I ate TONS, I tell you-and that was freshly-caught crab, firm and perfect. I always feel a bit sorry for them, since they need to be put into the boiling water alive (even though they do chill them on ice beforehand and the shock of heat supposedly kills them instantly); suffice it to say that I did my damndest to make sure that they died right. One thing was kind of funny: My little sister Denise forgot to bring the crab-crackers in with her plate and asked for her son Adam to “bring her the nut-crushers”. He’s 14; he gave her this horrified look and kind of curled up a bit, and she remarked that now she had a new threat for when he didn’t unload the dishwasher on time. ‘Nut-crushers’; eergh.
Today we ran around, did a few errands, a bit of clothes-shopping for my nephews-the day before I come back, my sister’s family will be leaving to spend a couple of weeks in California. Man, guys’ swim-trunks cost a FORTUNE. Interesting patterns, too-a pretty far cry from the cut-offs most guys wore when I was a teenager. Funny, womens’ suits have mostly only changed in fabric; why’s that, I wonder? Gods, I’ve seen, tried on, and bought more clothes and shoes over this past week than I’ve done in ages-some nice stuff, too, and some really neat sandals. And if I cared as much about appearance as everybody thinks I ought to, I’d probably be a lot more thrilled…
…but, you know? I just don’t.
My little sister claims I dress like a guy; so I like wearing camp-shirts over t-shirts and jeans, what’s wrong with that? Hell, right now I’m wearing a tropical short-sleeved button-up in blues unbuttoned over a black v-neck tee and my favorite jeans. She wears stuff that shows off her cleavage; I have no cleavage anymore, therefore I don’t go for that sort of stuff. She’s tall and thin, I’m short and chunky; long, loose shirts are *comfy* and I like them. What’s the big deal? I’m glad I have the new stuff, but Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze… You’d think it was a matter of world security that I dress in accordance to her standards. She’s not all appearance-oriented, though; I guess it’s just that all our lives we’ve had this thing of Plain-Older-Sister and Gorgeous-Younger-Sister going, and somehow it’s still there, and we revert back to it at the drop of a hat. That’s not all she is, and it’s not all I am; we both know that. Guess old habits are hard to break.
I talked to my brother yesterday, and oh thank GODS I’m not driving to Atlanta next week. Mutual agreement: seven hours in a car would not be conducive to good health for my mom (physically) or good health for me (mentally). So instead I’m gonna meet him for lunch when I’m at the Atlanta airport next Saturday (hey, Laurence & Carol, are you two both gonna make it as well?) Another reason for meeting there rather than driving up was… well… to put it mildly, I think his wife’s a dangerous, lying bitch, and I’m not much of a liar, so sooner or later we’d end up in a fight. I’d rather this doesn’t happen. Therefore: Yay, we’re meeting for lunch!
Okay; somewhat sad & morbid things below, don't read this bit if you don't feel like angst.
Several hours later: Just headed to bed after sitting up and talking with my eldest sister until half-past-midnight (I’m staying at her and her husband’s place for several days, since she’s putting on some sort of fearful birthday celebration for Yours Truly tomorrow.) Gods, she looks so bad… The doctor has given her a slightly longer prognosis; she may make it to next Spring, or maybe not-who knows? And after telling me that, she went on to discuss possible methods of suicide in a very matter-of-fact way, which made me twitch. On one hand, I can understand that it’s a thing to think about; if she gets into a situation where she’s in so much pain that life’s a pure burden, then… well; it’s her life. Euthanasia’s a tricky subject, and no matter how I feel about it on a personal level, I can’t know her feelings about it from her viewpoint; I’m not the one who’s dying here, I’m not the one in pain. And yet, on the other hand, her husband and family are going to be in pure misery if she does something like that. And suicide’s always felt so selfish to me-you make a mess and everybody else has to clean it up.
And she had to go and talk to me about it. And as I said, I’m not much of a liar; if she does something of the sort and someone asks me “Hey, did she ever mention suicide/euthanasia to you?”……. then they’ll hear the truth: Yes, she did.
I hope-and I seriously doubt-that she’ll ever do anything of the sort, though; she hasn’t quit up to this point, and it’s just not like her to do so now. So don’t freak out, everybody.
Okay, bed. Falling over now.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
5/26/06: My birthday! Bravo for me! I’d like to thank the Academy…
It was a good day, really it was. Damn near EVERYBODY was there: Mama, my sisters, their offspring and their offspring as well; friends of the family, you name it. I got several gift-cards and two really excellent digital cameras (I had mentioned wanting one, you see; the less-nifty one will go back to where it came from, to be exchanged for a new printer for my computer once I get back to Tucson.) Got some silly cards too, and then we all pigged out on burgers, hotdogs, my mom’s banana-pudding, watermelon and a great cake topped with fresh strawberries. **burp** Made a pig of myself.
A nice day, all around. And now I too can be evil with a camera… **grins at Icka across the country**
Afterwards, we all wound down and then me and my little sister and The Nephews (the twins, at least) went to see PotC3, which rocked great big enormous rocks. Man oh MAN did I enjoy it! It felt like the damned thing was at least five hours long-and wheeeeeeeeeeeow, this was Disney?? The dangling pair of iron balls? The whole telescope-envy thing? (I remarked to my sister that it must’ve been a cold day for Jack in the first scene.) Elizabeth and the freaking BOOTS?!? And ohhhh, so many good moments… the multiple Jacks, the symbolism of him pulling the ship by a rope, the repetition in the dialogue, the mid-fight wedding scene, the slimy Admiral’s death, and the scene at the very, very end (which I won’t mention so as not to add spoilers, but DAMN if you haven’t seen it yet, when you do, stay until past the end of the credits, okay, y’all?)…. Yeah. Good movie, and I don’t give an airborne act of autofellatio for what the critics say. I enjoyed the hell out of it.
After we got back, I eventually fell asleep and dreamed of little tiny pirate ships in what seemed to be a weird mix of St. Andrews Bay and the pond in Tucson’s Lincoln park, a few blocks away from my apartment. Weird.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
5/27/07-Very quiet day today, just goofing around. Somewhat bored, actually, but it’s not like I need to be up and bouncing like a ferret on EVERY day of my vacation, do I? People relax during vacations. So I took my sister’s dog Lucy for a walk (or a drag-she dragged me) and I went out and shot lots of photos of flowers in the yard and I played on the computer and wrote a bit and watched much recorded CSI on TV, talked to my sister’s home-healthcare nurse and otherwise didn’t do a whole lot. Tomorrow morning, though, I’m taking out my brother-in-law’s kayak and heading down the canal behind their house out into the bay; it’s a tidal channel, their neighborhood is basically on an island encircled by the canal; if I follow the turnings and don’t hare off into one of the side-sloughs I ought not to get lost.
….oh, who am I kidding? I could get lost on a one-way street. We’ll see. At least I’m a good swimmer if it tips over. Never kayaked before, and it’s been quite a few years since I canoed, but I’ll be okay. Gonna take my camera along and get a few good shots, I hope. Will have to check online as to when the tide turns so I don’t end up having to drag the kayak over any sandbars-the canal’s pretty shallow in some spots.
NOTE FROM DINNER SOMEWHAT LATER: Over stir-fry (tasty), my sister informed me that here in Panama City there’s a dance club known as the “Bop and Shag”. I shit y’all not. Sounds like somebody whaps somebody else over the head, drags ‘em into a cave and has their wicked way with them there, doesn’t it? I looked it up online, and by gods, that’s really the name. See? Look here, fourth entry down: http://www.nwrls.lib.fl.us/clubs/comorg_pq.htm
…waitaminute. Since when did my home area get a pagan society?!? 1111111!!!!!!!111!!!!!! There are other neopagans native to PC?? To quote my friend Icka’s ‘Guard Dog’ fic, fuckin’ A!!! Pardon the language. Am somewhat stunned. Wow… not everybody here's a full-immersion Baptist, Methodist or JW??? What the hell *happened* while I was gone?!? Thought I was the only neopagan between Wewahitchka and the county line.
But-getting back to the Bop & Shag Club. I… want a T-SHIRT. I do. Yes. Sadly, I fear they’d hang up on me if I called and requested one. I mean, I *could* pretend to be a 50’s/60’s dance-enthusiast (I *think* that’s what ‘bop & shag’ refer to), but I’m a terrible liar so I doubt that’d work. **sigh**
5/25/07-- Day… uh, let’s see… Day 7 of 14 of my vacation; not much happening today, although last night’s dinner was freaking amazing. My little sister and her husband decided that it was time for some really GOOD seafood, and we had freshly-boiled blue crab, shrimp and crawfish with little potatoes and garlic-bread. **slurp** I ate tons; I ate TONS, I tell you-and that was freshly-caught crab, firm and perfect. I always feel a bit sorry for them, since they need to be put into the boiling water alive (even though they do chill them on ice beforehand and the shock of heat supposedly kills them instantly); suffice it to say that I did my damndest to make sure that they died right. One thing was kind of funny: My little sister Denise forgot to bring the crab-crackers in with her plate and asked for her son Adam to “bring her the nut-crushers”. He’s 14; he gave her this horrified look and kind of curled up a bit, and she remarked that now she had a new threat for when he didn’t unload the dishwasher on time. ‘Nut-crushers’; eergh.
Today we ran around, did a few errands, a bit of clothes-shopping for my nephews-the day before I come back, my sister’s family will be leaving to spend a couple of weeks in California. Man, guys’ swim-trunks cost a FORTUNE. Interesting patterns, too-a pretty far cry from the cut-offs most guys wore when I was a teenager. Funny, womens’ suits have mostly only changed in fabric; why’s that, I wonder? Gods, I’ve seen, tried on, and bought more clothes and shoes over this past week than I’ve done in ages-some nice stuff, too, and some really neat sandals. And if I cared as much about appearance as everybody thinks I ought to, I’d probably be a lot more thrilled…
…but, you know? I just don’t.
My little sister claims I dress like a guy; so I like wearing camp-shirts over t-shirts and jeans, what’s wrong with that? Hell, right now I’m wearing a tropical short-sleeved button-up in blues unbuttoned over a black v-neck tee and my favorite jeans. She wears stuff that shows off her cleavage; I have no cleavage anymore, therefore I don’t go for that sort of stuff. She’s tall and thin, I’m short and chunky; long, loose shirts are *comfy* and I like them. What’s the big deal? I’m glad I have the new stuff, but Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze… You’d think it was a matter of world security that I dress in accordance to her standards. She’s not all appearance-oriented, though; I guess it’s just that all our lives we’ve had this thing of Plain-Older-Sister and Gorgeous-Younger-Sister going, and somehow it’s still there, and we revert back to it at the drop of a hat. That’s not all she is, and it’s not all I am; we both know that. Guess old habits are hard to break.
I talked to my brother yesterday, and oh thank GODS I’m not driving to Atlanta next week. Mutual agreement: seven hours in a car would not be conducive to good health for my mom (physically) or good health for me (mentally). So instead I’m gonna meet him for lunch when I’m at the Atlanta airport next Saturday (hey, Laurence & Carol, are you two both gonna make it as well?) Another reason for meeting there rather than driving up was… well… to put it mildly, I think his wife’s a dangerous, lying bitch, and I’m not much of a liar, so sooner or later we’d end up in a fight. I’d rather this doesn’t happen. Therefore: Yay, we’re meeting for lunch!
Okay; somewhat sad & morbid things below, don't read this bit if you don't feel like angst.
Several hours later: Just headed to bed after sitting up and talking with my eldest sister until half-past-midnight (I’m staying at her and her husband’s place for several days, since she’s putting on some sort of fearful birthday celebration for Yours Truly tomorrow.) Gods, she looks so bad… The doctor has given her a slightly longer prognosis; she may make it to next Spring, or maybe not-who knows? And after telling me that, she went on to discuss possible methods of suicide in a very matter-of-fact way, which made me twitch. On one hand, I can understand that it’s a thing to think about; if she gets into a situation where she’s in so much pain that life’s a pure burden, then… well; it’s her life. Euthanasia’s a tricky subject, and no matter how I feel about it on a personal level, I can’t know her feelings about it from her viewpoint; I’m not the one who’s dying here, I’m not the one in pain. And yet, on the other hand, her husband and family are going to be in pure misery if she does something like that. And suicide’s always felt so selfish to me-you make a mess and everybody else has to clean it up.
And she had to go and talk to me about it. And as I said, I’m not much of a liar; if she does something of the sort and someone asks me “Hey, did she ever mention suicide/euthanasia to you?”……. then they’ll hear the truth: Yes, she did.
I hope-and I seriously doubt-that she’ll ever do anything of the sort, though; she hasn’t quit up to this point, and it’s just not like her to do so now. So don’t freak out, everybody.
Okay, bed. Falling over now.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
5/26/06: My birthday! Bravo for me! I’d like to thank the Academy…
It was a good day, really it was. Damn near EVERYBODY was there: Mama, my sisters, their offspring and their offspring as well; friends of the family, you name it. I got several gift-cards and two really excellent digital cameras (I had mentioned wanting one, you see; the less-nifty one will go back to where it came from, to be exchanged for a new printer for my computer once I get back to Tucson.) Got some silly cards too, and then we all pigged out on burgers, hotdogs, my mom’s banana-pudding, watermelon and a great cake topped with fresh strawberries. **burp** Made a pig of myself.
A nice day, all around. And now I too can be evil with a camera… **grins at Icka across the country**
Afterwards, we all wound down and then me and my little sister and The Nephews (the twins, at least) went to see PotC3, which rocked great big enormous rocks. Man oh MAN did I enjoy it! It felt like the damned thing was at least five hours long-and wheeeeeeeeeeeow, this was Disney?? The dangling pair of iron balls? The whole telescope-envy thing? (I remarked to my sister that it must’ve been a cold day for Jack in the first scene.) Elizabeth and the freaking BOOTS?!? And ohhhh, so many good moments… the multiple Jacks, the symbolism of him pulling the ship by a rope, the repetition in the dialogue, the mid-fight wedding scene, the slimy Admiral’s death, and the scene at the very, very end (which I won’t mention so as not to add spoilers, but DAMN if you haven’t seen it yet, when you do, stay until past the end of the credits, okay, y’all?)…. Yeah. Good movie, and I don’t give an airborne act of autofellatio for what the critics say. I enjoyed the hell out of it.
After we got back, I eventually fell asleep and dreamed of little tiny pirate ships in what seemed to be a weird mix of St. Andrews Bay and the pond in Tucson’s Lincoln park, a few blocks away from my apartment. Weird.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
5/27/07-Very quiet day today, just goofing around. Somewhat bored, actually, but it’s not like I need to be up and bouncing like a ferret on EVERY day of my vacation, do I? People relax during vacations. So I took my sister’s dog Lucy for a walk (or a drag-she dragged me) and I went out and shot lots of photos of flowers in the yard and I played on the computer and wrote a bit and watched much recorded CSI on TV, talked to my sister’s home-healthcare nurse and otherwise didn’t do a whole lot. Tomorrow morning, though, I’m taking out my brother-in-law’s kayak and heading down the canal behind their house out into the bay; it’s a tidal channel, their neighborhood is basically on an island encircled by the canal; if I follow the turnings and don’t hare off into one of the side-sloughs I ought not to get lost.
….oh, who am I kidding? I could get lost on a one-way street. We’ll see. At least I’m a good swimmer if it tips over. Never kayaked before, and it’s been quite a few years since I canoed, but I’ll be okay. Gonna take my camera along and get a few good shots, I hope. Will have to check online as to when the tide turns so I don’t end up having to drag the kayak over any sandbars-the canal’s pretty shallow in some spots.
NOTE FROM DINNER SOMEWHAT LATER: Over stir-fry (tasty), my sister informed me that here in Panama City there’s a dance club known as the “Bop and Shag”. I shit y’all not. Sounds like somebody whaps somebody else over the head, drags ‘em into a cave and has their wicked way with them there, doesn’t it? I looked it up online, and by gods, that’s really the name. See? Look here, fourth entry down: http://www.nwrls.lib.fl.us/clubs/comorg_pq.htm
…waitaminute. Since when did my home area get a pagan society?!? 1111111!!!!!!!111!!!!!! There are other neopagans native to PC?? To quote my friend Icka’s ‘Guard Dog’ fic, fuckin’ A!!! Pardon the language. Am somewhat stunned. Wow… not everybody here's a full-immersion Baptist, Methodist or JW??? What the hell *happened* while I was gone?!? Thought I was the only neopagan between Wewahitchka and the county line.
But-getting back to the Bop & Shag Club. I… want a T-SHIRT. I do. Yes. Sadly, I fear they’d hang up on me if I called and requested one. I mean, I *could* pretend to be a 50’s/60’s dance-enthusiast (I *think* that’s what ‘bop & shag’ refer to), but I’m a terrible liar so I doubt that’d work. **sigh**