Bethany, Ashley and I are going to Minnesota today. BY OURSELVES. Needless to say, I'm scared out of my mind. Think of all the things that could go wrong! We could get in a car accident (it's much more likely that Bethany's GPS will lead us to a black hole in the center of the state), we could be murdered by vicious Minnesotans, terrorists could decide to blow up the Mall of America while we're there... Worst of all, I wouldn't have said good-bye to Evan! I wrote him a letter, but I'm all out of envelopes and stamps. My dad has my car today, so I can't go buy any of the letter-sending necessities.
Imagine how terrible he will feel if I die while he's away. He hasn't seen me for five weeks, and then he would never see me again. At least he wouldn't feel responsible. I can't think of a single way that he could feel that me having my throat slit by Ashley's grandma (who we are staying with) is his fault. Guess he'll get over my inevitable death eventually. Maybe he'll be relieved to escape my evil, loving caresses.
While we're in Minnesota, we'll be going to Music Man, the Mall of America, the Spam Museum (what the heck is that?), and the Mayo Clinic (pffft). I am bringing $459 with me, just because I can (being employed is great!). I'm going to buy my brother, Jace, a treat, which I will only give to him if he successfully keeps Lieutenant Prurient alive while I'm away. Hopefully I'll spend way too much on something related to an anime I love. A giant stuffed Kon, perhaps? I doubt I'll find one, but it's nice to dream. I can at least buy some CDs at the FYE that the mall must have. I would also like some really, really, REALLY high socks. Maybe a swimsuit, too, since I don't actually own one.
I wonder if we'll even enjoy ourselves? Even though we're best friends, we often hate each other quite passionately. The last time I stayed with Ashley for more than one night, I was ready to rip her throat out. I'm sure the feeling was mutual. But a whole week with them? Sheesh. Bethany's refusing to spend any money, so I'm worried that she's going to be upset, and if she is, we won't be able to have any fun. I'm sure I'll be quite the fun-sucker, too. I've been known to complain incessantly. I'll probably moan and groan about not being able to check my Pokefarm (there's no internet at Ashley's grandma's), and I'll whine about not getting letters from Evan.
The amusement park at the Mall of America is no longer an option, since Bethany said, "If you go on the rides, I'll just sit on a bench while you have fun." I don't especially want Bethany to get kidnapped and raped in a bathroom somewhere, so I'm not going on the rides, either (though I would really like to).
My walls are lookin' pretty bare... I think I need some more Pokemon posters. A Bleach poster or two would be nice, too. Maybe Soul Eater as well? I'll have to look for some!
We leave in an hour and a half. NERVES, NERVES. I'm scaaared. Even if Ashley's a good driver, we don't know what the hell we're doing. GPS systems are notorious for being completely inaccurate, so I have a hunch that we're going to get lost and have to sleep in Ashley's car. Urk.
Well, if I die, I'm sure Evan will check my blog eventually, so here:
I DIDN'T MEAN TO DIE. PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I HOPE TO BE REINCARNATED AS A WALRUS. Love ya, soldier.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Excessive Worrying: Evan's a Killing Machine!
This summer hasn't been so bad. It is going by both quickly and incredibly slowly. I would say that the days are long, but the weeks are short (is that a song lyric?). I usually get one or two letters from Evan a week. He has only been able to call me twice in... five weeks? Or is it four?
He called me today. When I picked up the phone, I expected a, "Hello, is Yo-say Haynes available?" or, "Is Lily Haynes there?" I expected to snap, "No, and it's Josie/Lyle HAN-NES." I pick up every strange number that calls my house now, in hopes of getting Evan, and they're usually telemarketers. But this time, an uncertain, familiar voice asked for Dani, and my heart skipped a beat! Evaaan!
It was hard to talk to him, since we kept accidentally interrupting each other and I kept stumbling over my words. The phone he was using wasn't very good, either, so I had trouble hearing him. But it was him, and that was enough to get my eyes a-waterin' (the sniffling didn't help to make our conversation any easier). In response to a letter I sent him, he assured me that I can still wear the pants in our relationship when he comes home, and that I can still take care of him. It still seems strange to me, though. He knows how to shoot guns. He's a killing machine now! Won't it be weird to hold the head of a killing machine on my lap? I can't imagine running my fingers through the hair of a man that has thrown grenades. Do I want to make dinner for a man that could easily blow my brains all over the kitchen walls?
Evan has assured me, over and over again, that he will still be my nerdy Evan when he comes back. He still likes Totoro, even if he is a fluffy bunny thing. To motivate himself to run during PT, he thinks a remixed version of the Lucky Star theme. He hasn't changed yet, but what if he does? He's going to be all muscled and sexy and confident when he comes home. What if he gets an ego? What if he dumps me because I've got a double chin? Oh, god!
I just need to stay confident. Show him who's boss, Dani! Send him letters exclaiming that I can beat him at Thumb War (I can't) and that I will always win during bouts of impromptu wrestling (I've never). I bet most people would like my mac and cheese more than they like his mac and cheese soup. He's a wimp when it comes to getting wet, whereas I'm willing to jump into a pool while still fully-clothed.
It just occurred to me: will he get freckles from running around in the sun so much? He was starting to get them around his eyes before he left... Mmmf, Evan with freckles. I'll melt all over. And those big, dorky glasses he has to wear? I have a nerd fetish. Oh, man. I wish I could see him now. I would gobble him right up.
This brings me to another worry of mine: will I forget how to interact with him? Will I forget how to kiss, how to snuggle, etc.? Will we fall back into our old habit of never meeting eye contact, awkwardly looking away from each other all the time? Will holding hands become a terrifying experience? What were these last sixteen months for if we're just going to act like a new couple all over again?
What if our reunion is awful? We've both been dreamin' up different scenarios where we meet each other and the most romantic scene ensues. I walk into my house, only to find him standing in my family room. The sun is somehow glistening off our hair, even though we're inside. I gasp and run toward him in slow-mo, tears streaming from my face, and we exchange the sweetest, gentlest of kisses.
What will probably happen: I see his car in my driveway while on my way back from work. He has been there for too long, not knowing where I was or if I would return home before marching band. I park my car, and sit in it for several minutes of unadulterated panic before finally crawling out to greet him. He's standing awkwardly by his car. This is where I either stand several feet away from him, not sure what he wants, or I rush toward him and end up smacking my forehead into his, knocking him unconscious. Or I try to kiss him and end up biting his lip something awful, like I did when I was first learning how to kiss. Or maybe he'll have the saddest look on his face and say, "Dani, I should have done this earlier, but... I think we should see other people." I will drop to the ground and sob while he casually drives away.
What I'm trying to say is: I love that bitch. Whore better stay how he is, and stay with me for a little while longer.
He called me today. When I picked up the phone, I expected a, "Hello, is Yo-say Haynes available?" or, "Is Lily Haynes there?" I expected to snap, "No, and it's Josie/Lyle HAN-NES." I pick up every strange number that calls my house now, in hopes of getting Evan, and they're usually telemarketers. But this time, an uncertain, familiar voice asked for Dani, and my heart skipped a beat! Evaaan!
It was hard to talk to him, since we kept accidentally interrupting each other and I kept stumbling over my words. The phone he was using wasn't very good, either, so I had trouble hearing him. But it was him, and that was enough to get my eyes a-waterin' (the sniffling didn't help to make our conversation any easier). In response to a letter I sent him, he assured me that I can still wear the pants in our relationship when he comes home, and that I can still take care of him. It still seems strange to me, though. He knows how to shoot guns. He's a killing machine now! Won't it be weird to hold the head of a killing machine on my lap? I can't imagine running my fingers through the hair of a man that has thrown grenades. Do I want to make dinner for a man that could easily blow my brains all over the kitchen walls?
Evan has assured me, over and over again, that he will still be my nerdy Evan when he comes back. He still likes Totoro, even if he is a fluffy bunny thing. To motivate himself to run during PT, he thinks a remixed version of the Lucky Star theme. He hasn't changed yet, but what if he does? He's going to be all muscled and sexy and confident when he comes home. What if he gets an ego? What if he dumps me because I've got a double chin? Oh, god!
I just need to stay confident. Show him who's boss, Dani! Send him letters exclaiming that I can beat him at Thumb War (I can't) and that I will always win during bouts of impromptu wrestling (I've never). I bet most people would like my mac and cheese more than they like his mac and cheese soup. He's a wimp when it comes to getting wet, whereas I'm willing to jump into a pool while still fully-clothed.
It just occurred to me: will he get freckles from running around in the sun so much? He was starting to get them around his eyes before he left... Mmmf, Evan with freckles. I'll melt all over. And those big, dorky glasses he has to wear? I have a nerd fetish. Oh, man. I wish I could see him now. I would gobble him right up.
This brings me to another worry of mine: will I forget how to interact with him? Will I forget how to kiss, how to snuggle, etc.? Will we fall back into our old habit of never meeting eye contact, awkwardly looking away from each other all the time? Will holding hands become a terrifying experience? What were these last sixteen months for if we're just going to act like a new couple all over again?
What if our reunion is awful? We've both been dreamin' up different scenarios where we meet each other and the most romantic scene ensues. I walk into my house, only to find him standing in my family room. The sun is somehow glistening off our hair, even though we're inside. I gasp and run toward him in slow-mo, tears streaming from my face, and we exchange the sweetest, gentlest of kisses.
What will probably happen: I see his car in my driveway while on my way back from work. He has been there for too long, not knowing where I was or if I would return home before marching band. I park my car, and sit in it for several minutes of unadulterated panic before finally crawling out to greet him. He's standing awkwardly by his car. This is where I either stand several feet away from him, not sure what he wants, or I rush toward him and end up smacking my forehead into his, knocking him unconscious. Or I try to kiss him and end up biting his lip something awful, like I did when I was first learning how to kiss. Or maybe he'll have the saddest look on his face and say, "Dani, I should have done this earlier, but... I think we should see other people." I will drop to the ground and sob while he casually drives away.
What I'm trying to say is: I love that bitch. Whore better stay how he is, and stay with me for a little while longer.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
In Remembrance of a Goddamn Fucking Friend
fuck.
you just don't find healthy soldiers like General Libido and Dictator Cadaverous anymore, do you?
Corporal Jackson has died, possibly from the inhalation of a dangerous gas (flea bombin'). his scales went from black to gold in less than twelve hours, and he was found belly-up in the afternoon.
i hope that his death brings the downfall of the military base that he was named after.
Lieutenant Prurient has taken the Corporal's place on the nightstand. a replacement goldfish is not scheduled to move into the fishbowl.
you just don't find healthy soldiers like General Libido and Dictator Cadaverous anymore, do you?
Corporal Jackson has died, possibly from the inhalation of a dangerous gas (flea bombin'). his scales went from black to gold in less than twelve hours, and he was found belly-up in the afternoon.
i hope that his death brings the downfall of the military base that he was named after.
Lieutenant Prurient has taken the Corporal's place on the nightstand. a replacement goldfish is not scheduled to move into the fishbowl.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
In Remembrance of Two Beloved Comrades
after the introduction of a new soldier to the fish bowl, all three fish passed away. first was the newcomer, Major Agley, who brought a fatal disease with him from the dreaded lands of Super Wal-Mart. next came our beloved General Libido. Dictator Cadaverous tried in vain to push the General back up, but the General kept sinking, gasping and thrashing about on the floor of his fishbowl. General Libido passed shortly after, and Dictator Cadaverous died of heartbreak the very next day.
many tears were shed over these brave, brave soldiers... they will be remembered as two of the greatest goldfish i have ever known. for over a year, they stared me down as i mumbled secrets to them. they held their cautious gazes on me as i first told them, ever so giddily, that "i love him, guys," and they averted their eyes when needed, as polite fish should.
the betta, Lieutenant Prurient, remains healthy and vigorous, as he was not in the infected fishbowl. his presence is greatly appreciated in this time of grieving. i have not always confided in him as i had with the General and Dictator, but he is still a confidant, and i trust him with my secrets.
taking the place of General Libido and Dictator Cadaverous in the now-clean fishbowl is Corporal Jackson, the black moor. some changes have been made to the bowl (by my mother), and his survival cannot be guaranteed. bright pink and purple rocks are dangerous.
the Corporal is a handsome fish, and he is much larger than his predecessors. if he survives, he will prove to be a strong and capable soldier. we can only hope for his success.
many tears were shed over these brave, brave soldiers... they will be remembered as two of the greatest goldfish i have ever known. for over a year, they stared me down as i mumbled secrets to them. they held their cautious gazes on me as i first told them, ever so giddily, that "i love him, guys," and they averted their eyes when needed, as polite fish should.
the betta, Lieutenant Prurient, remains healthy and vigorous, as he was not in the infected fishbowl. his presence is greatly appreciated in this time of grieving. i have not always confided in him as i had with the General and Dictator, but he is still a confidant, and i trust him with my secrets.
taking the place of General Libido and Dictator Cadaverous in the now-clean fishbowl is Corporal Jackson, the black moor. some changes have been made to the bowl (by my mother), and his survival cannot be guaranteed. bright pink and purple rocks are dangerous.
the Corporal is a handsome fish, and he is much larger than his predecessors. if he survives, he will prove to be a strong and capable soldier. we can only hope for his success.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
So This is the Real World?
in order to achieve happiness, we do things that make us unhappy. we work mundane jobs to earn money, day in and day out, and if we ended up with our dream job, we sometimes learn to hate what we do. if we haven't found them yet, we wait for our one-and-only, sometimes suffering heartache after heartache and growing too bitter to truly appreciate our lover when we've found them. we grow old and cynical and watch everyone that we've known die off. this is what we live for? to flail around hopelessly until we've settled for a life we may not have hoped for? there is no helping what happens to anyone, is there?
a simple explanation to my current angst: grandpa rauscher's dead, evan's gone, i've got a job, i'm on my period.
i received a letter from evan today, but i can't write a response. i always intend to write something peppy and fun for him, but when i reread what i've written, it's like, "holy fuck, dani, what is wrong with you?" when i try to tell him anything, suddenly i sound depressed and horribly needy. i'm going to keep the letters i've decided not to send, and we'll see how big that stack gets.
i'm considering not sending any more at all. he doesn't receive my mail, anyway: for some reason, they're holding my letters from him. he gets letters from his mom, but not from me. i don't know why. maybe it's my bubbly address. the guys in charge over at basic take one look at my envelope and think, "pleasant plain road? THAT'S FOR PUSSY BOYS, WE DON'T NEED THIS SHIT HERE." that's what i'm going to assume is happening.
i'll be fine soon, i'm sure. i'm just having trouble coping because there is no one to talk to about this. i've tried talking to bethany and ashley, but they don't like when i do. they try to change the subject, and i understand completely. i'm terrible to talk to right now. i'm a mess. i dream about evan coming home and wake up snoggin' my pillow (obviously one of the more entertaining aspects of my emotional distress).
it's not just him, of course. rusty was at my grandpa's funeral, and he hugged me. the fuck kind of ex-dad wants a hug? of course, that's not the worst thing about the funeral. i felt horribly guilty about every way i had ever wronged grandpa, and grandma seemed so sincerely happy to see me... she's all alone at that big ole' farm now. she can't take care of all that land by herself. i know that older people sometimes just give up on life when their spouse dies, and i'm scared for grandma now. i'm scared for all my grandparents. any one of them could die at any second. my parents could die. anyone can die! life is full of uncertainties, and they're all hitting me hard.
i don't want to angst out on everyone, but i can't help it. the longer i go without letting it all out, the worse it gets. right? i guess i'll stay pretty bad until evan comes home in september. but he'll leave me for good in january, when he goes to college, and i'll have to experience this crippling loneliness all over again. fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, guys.
fuck.
a simple explanation to my current angst: grandpa rauscher's dead, evan's gone, i've got a job, i'm on my period.
i received a letter from evan today, but i can't write a response. i always intend to write something peppy and fun for him, but when i reread what i've written, it's like, "holy fuck, dani, what is wrong with you?" when i try to tell him anything, suddenly i sound depressed and horribly needy. i'm going to keep the letters i've decided not to send, and we'll see how big that stack gets.
i'm considering not sending any more at all. he doesn't receive my mail, anyway: for some reason, they're holding my letters from him. he gets letters from his mom, but not from me. i don't know why. maybe it's my bubbly address. the guys in charge over at basic take one look at my envelope and think, "pleasant plain road? THAT'S FOR PUSSY BOYS, WE DON'T NEED THIS SHIT HERE." that's what i'm going to assume is happening.
i'll be fine soon, i'm sure. i'm just having trouble coping because there is no one to talk to about this. i've tried talking to bethany and ashley, but they don't like when i do. they try to change the subject, and i understand completely. i'm terrible to talk to right now. i'm a mess. i dream about evan coming home and wake up snoggin' my pillow (obviously one of the more entertaining aspects of my emotional distress).
it's not just him, of course. rusty was at my grandpa's funeral, and he hugged me. the fuck kind of ex-dad wants a hug? of course, that's not the worst thing about the funeral. i felt horribly guilty about every way i had ever wronged grandpa, and grandma seemed so sincerely happy to see me... she's all alone at that big ole' farm now. she can't take care of all that land by herself. i know that older people sometimes just give up on life when their spouse dies, and i'm scared for grandma now. i'm scared for all my grandparents. any one of them could die at any second. my parents could die. anyone can die! life is full of uncertainties, and they're all hitting me hard.
i don't want to angst out on everyone, but i can't help it. the longer i go without letting it all out, the worse it gets. right? i guess i'll stay pretty bad until evan comes home in september. but he'll leave me for good in january, when he goes to college, and i'll have to experience this crippling loneliness all over again. fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, guys.
fuck.
Friday, June 11, 2010
A Lousy Start to Summer
evan left for basic training on tuesday morning. he has been gone for all of four days now, and i'm already unsure of myself and of everything around me. the sound on my computer isn't working, so i can't spend every day immersed in various anime's. i find myself bored of video games, and i don't really watch television (y'know, other than the stuff i watch on the internet). i'm bored and i'm lonely. i had hoped to discover that i can function just fine without evan, and i'm sure i will be able to at some point during this summer, but i can't for now.
the only things that will keep me out of my bed this summer are my new job and the constant hope for letters from evan. he has already sent me something; he ordered it before he left. it's this lovely (though slightly inappropriate) t-shirt from bustedtees.com. here, have a picture:
it's great, isn't it? for those of you who may not get it (if there's anyone out there who doesn't), that's a game cartridge. let's say your super nintendo game isn't playing. one solution is to pop out the game cartridge, blow into it, and pop it back in. it works more often than you might think. so that explains that.
i don't know when evan will be able to write me, but i look forward to seeing his messy handwriting again. i hope he's doing alright and not getting raped. he had a fear of puking all over the place; while i don't understand it, i still hope it doesn't happen.
and now for the awful news: i was informed today that my grandpa rauscher, the father of my biological dad, had a massive stroke. the doctors have given him maybe two or three days to live. the first thing i thought when i heard was, "who's gonna call me 'kiddo' now?" i haven't been close to the rauschers since before my biological dad legally disowned me. i had planned to drive out to lockridge to visit grandma and grandpa this summer, and that just makes me feel worse. i've procrastinated for so long, and now i'll never see him again. i'm nobody's 'kiddo' now.
for the last few years, i had only seen grandpa for eric's birthdays and my own. most of the time he would just sit in the car and wait for grandma to be done with me so that he could get home. when i would ask grandma where he was, she would say, "oh, his feet are hurting him," or something petty like that. it always made me wonder if he didn't love me anymore - i've been a terrible, neglectful granddaughter, haven't i? i kept thinking, "oh, they'll be there next summer break, i'll see them then." well, now he won't be. he promised me that he'd teach me to ride a horse... what was that? ten years ago? he said, "i'll teach you to ride a horse this summer," and i was so bitter when he didn't...
this isn't the first stroke he has had, and i never visited or called or anything when i heard about his first one. i was scared, and i cried, but he'll never know that. i've been so selfish and careless. i remember - i thought it was the silliest thing - when i was little, he would send me to the basement to get him a beer almost every time i went to visit. i would go down and get a freeze pop for myself and get him his beer and grandma would chide him for making his granddaughter get him alcohol. i always smiled when she did; they had a funny relationship.
i'm being selfish again: i'm not sure if i should go to his funeral. i want to, but my biological dad will be there and i haven't seen him in eight years and he's not supposed to see me without permission until i'm eighteen... i don't want to see him. i've had nightmares - actual sleep nightmares, not just bad thoughts - about having encounters with him, him being a villain with a maniacal laugh... it's silly, but i have dreamed that. i'll go to grandpa's funeral. i'll do my best to avoid rusty, i'll try not to be too sad when eric forces my long-lost half-brother to meet me, and i'll try to act like i belong at the funeral of a rauscher. what am i to them? a vague memory?
i love my grandpa. i've been stupid, and for the last several years i've said, "i don't know, i think it would be awkward if i went to visit them," but i always wished that it wouldn't be awkward at all. i always hoped that somehow it'd be exactly how it used to be: that i would go outside and climb on the hay bales, followed by my trusted feline companion, cubbie, just to be up higher than the horses. i hoped that grandpa would send me out to get the eggs from the chicken coop and scold me when i was too cowardly to lift the protective hens from their nests. i hoped that grandma would invite me downstairs, where i would watch her attempt, for the hundredth time, to clean up all the useless junk she has hoarded, and watch her put the useless junk back in the corner where she found it. i hoped that grandpa would say, "hey, kiddo!" when i walked through the door, i hoped that grandma would give me the big hugs that she used to...
i'm a coward. if it weren't for my cowardice, i would have gone to see my grandparents. i wouldn't be lamenting over lost time, i would be lamenting over the loss of a close relative. i feel awful, i feel guilty. i'll carry this guilt for the rest of my life; i just know i will.
i'm nobody's 'kiddo'.
the only things that will keep me out of my bed this summer are my new job and the constant hope for letters from evan. he has already sent me something; he ordered it before he left. it's this lovely (though slightly inappropriate) t-shirt from bustedtees.com. here, have a picture:
it's great, isn't it? for those of you who may not get it (if there's anyone out there who doesn't), that's a game cartridge. let's say your super nintendo game isn't playing. one solution is to pop out the game cartridge, blow into it, and pop it back in. it works more often than you might think. so that explains that.
i don't know when evan will be able to write me, but i look forward to seeing his messy handwriting again. i hope he's doing alright and not getting raped. he had a fear of puking all over the place; while i don't understand it, i still hope it doesn't happen.
and now for the awful news: i was informed today that my grandpa rauscher, the father of my biological dad, had a massive stroke. the doctors have given him maybe two or three days to live. the first thing i thought when i heard was, "who's gonna call me 'kiddo' now?" i haven't been close to the rauschers since before my biological dad legally disowned me. i had planned to drive out to lockridge to visit grandma and grandpa this summer, and that just makes me feel worse. i've procrastinated for so long, and now i'll never see him again. i'm nobody's 'kiddo' now.
for the last few years, i had only seen grandpa for eric's birthdays and my own. most of the time he would just sit in the car and wait for grandma to be done with me so that he could get home. when i would ask grandma where he was, she would say, "oh, his feet are hurting him," or something petty like that. it always made me wonder if he didn't love me anymore - i've been a terrible, neglectful granddaughter, haven't i? i kept thinking, "oh, they'll be there next summer break, i'll see them then." well, now he won't be. he promised me that he'd teach me to ride a horse... what was that? ten years ago? he said, "i'll teach you to ride a horse this summer," and i was so bitter when he didn't...
this isn't the first stroke he has had, and i never visited or called or anything when i heard about his first one. i was scared, and i cried, but he'll never know that. i've been so selfish and careless. i remember - i thought it was the silliest thing - when i was little, he would send me to the basement to get him a beer almost every time i went to visit. i would go down and get a freeze pop for myself and get him his beer and grandma would chide him for making his granddaughter get him alcohol. i always smiled when she did; they had a funny relationship.
i'm being selfish again: i'm not sure if i should go to his funeral. i want to, but my biological dad will be there and i haven't seen him in eight years and he's not supposed to see me without permission until i'm eighteen... i don't want to see him. i've had nightmares - actual sleep nightmares, not just bad thoughts - about having encounters with him, him being a villain with a maniacal laugh... it's silly, but i have dreamed that. i'll go to grandpa's funeral. i'll do my best to avoid rusty, i'll try not to be too sad when eric forces my long-lost half-brother to meet me, and i'll try to act like i belong at the funeral of a rauscher. what am i to them? a vague memory?
i love my grandpa. i've been stupid, and for the last several years i've said, "i don't know, i think it would be awkward if i went to visit them," but i always wished that it wouldn't be awkward at all. i always hoped that somehow it'd be exactly how it used to be: that i would go outside and climb on the hay bales, followed by my trusted feline companion, cubbie, just to be up higher than the horses. i hoped that grandpa would send me out to get the eggs from the chicken coop and scold me when i was too cowardly to lift the protective hens from their nests. i hoped that grandma would invite me downstairs, where i would watch her attempt, for the hundredth time, to clean up all the useless junk she has hoarded, and watch her put the useless junk back in the corner where she found it. i hoped that grandpa would say, "hey, kiddo!" when i walked through the door, i hoped that grandma would give me the big hugs that she used to...
i'm a coward. if it weren't for my cowardice, i would have gone to see my grandparents. i wouldn't be lamenting over lost time, i would be lamenting over the loss of a close relative. i feel awful, i feel guilty. i'll carry this guilt for the rest of my life; i just know i will.
i'm nobody's 'kiddo'.
Friday, March 12, 2010
In Remembrance of Another Friend
our bosom friend and comrade in battle, the handsome Corporal Pulchritudinous, was found belly-up in the trenches some time ago. though his time in the military was short, he will be remembered fondly by his higher-ups.
Dictator Cadaverous took Corporal Pulchritudinous in under his wing upon meeting, always guiding the Corporal to the bottom of the tank when an enemy approached. the Dictator has lost a close compatriot and is suffering greatly.
at this point in time, no replacement is planned to take the Corporal's place in the line of duty.
Dictator Cadaverous took Corporal Pulchritudinous in under his wing upon meeting, always guiding the Corporal to the bottom of the tank when an enemy approached. the Dictator has lost a close compatriot and is suffering greatly.
at this point in time, no replacement is planned to take the Corporal's place in the line of duty.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Introducing Corporal Pulchritudinous!
i lied about Admiral Oust. my new goldfish is just so adorable that the harshness of that name seemed wrong. so, because pulchritudinous means beautiful and my new fish is gorgeous, Corporal Pulchritudinous it is.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
I Only Knew You for Two Weeks, But I Can't Live Without You
i defeated Ganondorf in The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, and i don't know what to do with my liiiife. whatever will i do without my dearest Link? i drew a picture of him a while ago. wanna see?
i miss him already. his ridiculous expressions, his silly screams. i draw him on almost all of my schoolwork now, and i can't imagine life any other way. LIFE IS MEANINGLESS WITHOUT LINK.
another thing that disappoints the crap outta me is that i was so close to beating Twilight Princess when i accidentally erased my entire save file. i scrambled for the power button, but i didn't make it in time and my thirty-some hours of game time left my life forever. i'll never help Midna to become the princess again, and Zant will continue to cause problems for both the world of light and the world of twilight. POOR MIDNA. i think i'll draw a picture of her for you, even though i have a new mouse and can't use it very well quite yet.
there you go. i drew her in Paint.
i'm bored now, bye.
i miss him already. his ridiculous expressions, his silly screams. i draw him on almost all of my schoolwork now, and i can't imagine life any other way. LIFE IS MEANINGLESS WITHOUT LINK.another thing that disappoints the crap outta me is that i was so close to beating Twilight Princess when i accidentally erased my entire save file. i scrambled for the power button, but i didn't make it in time and my thirty-some hours of game time left my life forever. i'll never help Midna to become the princess again, and Zant will continue to cause problems for both the world of light and the world of twilight. POOR MIDNA. i think i'll draw a picture of her for you, even though i have a new mouse and can't use it very well quite yet.
there you go. i drew her in Paint.i'm bored now, bye.
Friday, January 29, 2010
In Remembrance of a Friend
the respectable Sergeant Pepper was engulfed by the great maw of a monstrous cat on the evening of January 28, 2010.
he will be missed by his comrades, Dictator Cadaverous and General Libido.
soon to replace his position in the war is a certain Admiral Oust, who has not yet reported to duty.
he will be missed by his comrades, Dictator Cadaverous and General Libido.
soon to replace his position in the war is a certain Admiral Oust, who has not yet reported to duty.
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