Grades will be posted on tuesday, so I'll know for sure that I passed. My husband is being ever supportive, but I'm freaking out. Dude. I am almost positive that I only did 5 of 6 essay questions on my LotR final. (We get to choose 6 of 8 topics, and I'm thinking I split early without realizing it.) So if I did that, who's to say I didn't choke on my math final? Blarg.
Hope you're all doing well, lovelies.
Eee, school starts a week from tomorrow. AND THE SCHOOL STILL HASN'T POSTED THE BOOK LIST!!! What the hell is up with that?? Okay, off to snuggle with the boy.
I spent tonight with my husband, cleaning up our kitchen and playing Baldur's Gate and watching the ball drop, and it was fantastic. It's our second New Year together, but our first as husband and wife, obviously, so it was special. I know how lucky I am. It's going to be a great year, even if the going isn't always smooth, because all I see when I think about 2006 are the shining moments, even if I was a basket-case for so much of it. Thus, the good outweighed the bad. By a lot.
Happy New Year everyone!
Oh, and my new watch? Is beautiful. In case I forgot to mention that among the Christmas postings.
We had thunder and lightning last night and it's been all gray and drizzly outside today. Now it's raining- I love the rain. There's just something about it that is soothing and refreshing to me. I'm happy for it. It's going to be a good day.
Quick post- more to come
51
Alice
Arkham
Bengal
Black Opal
Dorian
Jailbait
Katharina
The Lion
Mouse's Long and Sad Tale
Persephone
Queen of Sheba
Whitechapel
LE:
Asp Viper
Beaver Moon
Boomslang
Et Lux Fuit
Green Tree Viper
Hungry Ghost Moon
Lotus Moon
Pink Moon '05
Punkie Night
Snow-Flakes
I'm doing a weekly weigh in, and I'm going to record stuff about it in here.
Loss Today: 4.0lbs
Loss in August: 7.8
Cumulative Loss: 11.8lbs
Long term overall goal: 99.6lbs
Short term overall goal: 35lbs
Updated Long and Short Term goals to address weight lost: 87.8/23.2
It is awesome that the lab is updating like crazy. It means there will be ever so many scents in which to delight, and loads of fun swaps to arrange and hunt for and experience. It is not a bad thing that I can't buy anymore BPAL for several months (er, that might get tossed out.), it just makes life more interesting. I will pay off all debts and focus on school.
The notes don't immediately appeal (pear, blue lotus and crystal musk do strike my fancy, I must admit), so I can certainly afford to miss this one single (er, double) lunacy.
It struck me right through the heart when somebody compared it to the legend of Miskatonic U, though.
Regardless. I do not need any new scents. It'll be more fun when I can more easily afford them anyway. Plus, it'll be neat to read the reviews and stalk the forums for decants.
I am thankful that I'm related to my father for one reason: His mother.
I love my grandmother. She passed away in October of 1998 in Vancouver, Washington while I was in Provo, Utah. I didn't cry when I got the news. I wish I could've spent a little more time with her, and it wasn't expected, but I was surprisingly at peace with it.
She was a sweet, willowy, classy lady. Her hair was always done. She loved cheerful colors, her grandchildren, and petunias. She was tiny and smelled like powder and cigarettes, and she always wore lipstick. I think I would look a lot like she did when she was young if I lost, like, more than half of my total body weight. She really was an amazing lady, and I really, really miss her.
I wish she could've been at my wedding. She would like my husband. He would adore her. Everyone did.
She never lost her wits, mobility, or sense of humor. I am glad I didn't have to go through watching her health decline, like so many other people have done and seem to be in the process of doing right now. A lot of people are talking about their grandparents on the forums right now, and that's what made me think of her.
She was one of a kind. I'm certainly not eager for death or anything, but I sure can't wait to see her again.
My internet has been gone for the past week or so! I shall return as soon as the telecommunication gods decide they don't hate me anymore. Thinking of you all, and hoping you're doing well.
I will have a huge update coming when I do get back. (Possibly tomorrow. I'm not holding my breath.)
Not as in "making knots", but as in "not knitting".
Dude, I don't know what I'm doing, but it sure as hell doesn't resemble what she's doing on the knittinghelp site. Also, I've watched her continental casting clip ten thousand times, and I can still only get it started once in twenty-five times. Is there any reason I can't start with a slip knot and a single cast, and then do the rest with her double-casting style thingy?
Also? None of my knitting looks like any of the things she's demonstrated at all. Mine is all wavy and you can sort of see a braided effect if you pull it out really tightly, but then it springs right back into the wavy seam thing. WTF? I'm doing something, and it is making rows and whatnot, but it's nothing like anything I've seen today. Or ever.
I have a math exam and a presentation in speech today, and I am freaked out. And really tired. Mostly freaked out.
I'm going to be so glad when today is over with. SO. GLAD.
Here's the rundown of everything that's been going wrong in my life of late. I'll do a more positive one soon.
-I got violently ill during finals week last quarter.
-I was violently ill the first week of spring break.
-I was PMS'ing, too.
-Surprise visit from my beloved cousin left little time for rest during the second week of spring break.
-Ugliness and misfortune from friend in previous entry.
-School starts. Yoga-ow. Math-ow. Archaeology-YAY. English-....
-Things resolve with friend, who gets kicked out of his apartment due to not paying rent. (This is a long story.) Instead of doing homework, I help him get moved.
-S.O. gets sick.
-Mom may have whooping cough. If she does, I will have to be tested for it as well.
-If mom has whooping cough, she will go straight to the hospital. Scariness.
-I get sick. I miss 3 of the first 8 days of classes. Catching up in math is going to be a bitch.
-Friend gets moved in here.
-English instructor is extremely condescending to me. It makes me sad.
-At the urging of my S.O., I realize that I can't take archaeology. This is heartbreaking news.
-A favourite uncle who has been really sick for a while now goes into renal failure and is on his deathbed.
-Favourite uncle consequently dies.
-I miss the funeral because it is out of town, and I've already missed too much school.
-The death brings up a lot of past issues.
-I'm still sick but attending school. My voice is mostly gone and I feel like shit, but I'm probably not contagious.
-I tell my archaeology instructor in person that I'm dropping his class, and when he gets concerned, I damn near cry, because his class is the only one I enjoy. This causes more concern from him. Luckily (for me) he has a class and can't stay, but reassures me that I'm not giving up and I have to do what's best for me and all the nice things people say.
-I cry. (In my car)
-I cry some more. (At home)
-For whatever reason, math just isn't sticking with me. I suck. I fail the first quiz.
-My first english essay is late.
-I cry some more. (In my car and at home)
-I don't have wedding invitations yet. This is not good.
-.... to be continued.
So my mom and I are a member of the organization TOPS, which is for weight loss. Since she joined in March of last year, she has lost approximately 130 lbs. There was a regional meet up in October, which my mom attended, because our chapter's leader said she'd entered all our numbers into the contest, and it was likely my mom would gain some recognition. The leader had lied, however, and had not submitted the paperwork. She'd filled it out and brought it with her. Dumbass. But every year, the organization recognizes someone on a national level. Each state crowns a king and/or queen, and then several of them are published in the monthly magazine. Now, the new year is pretty hard to miss. I would think that the paperwork would be well and truly filled out and ready to go by then. No. The woman calls ME to find out if I have my mother's membership information, and crap that she should have already, and I swear that if this woman fucks this up for my mom, I will tell her exactly how I feel about the situation (during a meeting), and then see if anyone else is okay with this turn of events, and then walk out. I'll find another damn chapter to attend. Screw them. And then I'll write a detailed letter to the national organization and hope for the best.
Also, this seemed too petty to start a new topic over, and I'm no longer reading the confessional or the how are you feeling threads. I'm really bummed out about my local used bookstore that I've been going to since they piled everything into one small room. They've expanded, and have recently gotten a lot of new staff members. So I was in there the other day, and I asked one of them about Richelle Mead. I suppose I've been spoiled by the owner, who can cite titles based off a description of a cover, and list authors like woah... and even if she doesn't know, she'll go look herself, and check the computer. Nice things, right? But this woman asked me what genre she was, and I explained that it was paranormal, but it might be paranormal romance and she was like, "Ohhh. Well, I don't really know a lot about that genre, but the name doesn't ring a bell." Chompchompchompthegum. Uh, okay. Thanks for the help. I couldn't find her book anywhere, but that doesn't mean they didn't have it.
That's kinda okay- she might've been really busy with other things or something, but here's what really makes me mad. While I'm looking for Succubus Blues, I overhear her talking to another customer, and she's saying, " ... I don't really read paranormal stuff, but she's really good- I read a little bit of that book and really liked it." That's compelling. So the customer asks if they have it in used, and the woman immediately says, "Oh, no. We NEVER get anything back by her. Everybody loves her." And I'm like, "Bullshit." Seriously. Not aloud, of course. So I walk past the customer and glance over and see that she's looking at a Patricia Briggs book, and I roll my eyes, because my mom is a huuuge fan of that woman and buys the used books all the time. So I take the time to walk the ten feet to the shelf, and sure enough, the book is there, in used. So I go up and ask the customer if she had been looking at Moon Called, and she said she had. So I raise my voice ever so slightly and say, "Well, they've got it in used." So she asks if I'm going to buy it and I'm like, "Nope, please have at it." I get that you might want to be selling new over used, but that shit is only going to piss people off. People like me. The owner, however, will go out of her way to see if they have a used copy of something- I've been at the register, and she's asked me if I want it used and then pulled a used copy for me, because I'll always take used books.
That makes me sad.
With three of us living here, it doesn't take long for dishes to pile up. We've asked out houseguest to please do them. We remind him that we'd like him to do them every other day. Because if they get done every day, then they don't pile up, and it's a ten minute job. When they don't get done for, say, a week. . . there aren't any clean glasses or plates in the entire house, and it's a whole day's work, more or less.
I know what it's like to be depressed and just want to be on the internet at all times (And I really do), but it's offensive to clean around him and realize that he hasn't bathed in days, let alone thought about doing any dishes.
I really am going to have to get rid of my cat.
I'm trying to keep my mind off the impending seperation by testing BPAL oils.
Tavern of Hell: Not me at all. It is unusual, but there's this odd musky scent that actually turns my stomach. Even on drydown, it's still there in the background. It's possible this might even out to something lovely, but there are other scents I love more from start to finish. I think it might be the ambergris that I dislike.
Tweedledee: This, in the imp, smells just like the imp of Kunstkammer I had that loved me. It's like a slightly melted orange popsicle with a splash of iced tea and the spice of the pepper gives this added depth. I really like this one.
Severin: I have tried this a couple of times. It smells light and fresh in the imp, but once it hits my skin, it is GONE. I can't smell it past 15 minutes. Strange.
Yeah. I don't know what to do with myself, because this isn't working.
I'm sure you'll all be relieved to know that there was no drama today, save me losing my schedule and finding it shortly thereafter. I'm kind of afraid. I sort of like all of my classes and feel comfortable- they're not necessarily going to be particularly "fun", but that's okay.
I tentatively like my instructors. I think I may keep this schedule. Yeah, that's all.
As has become expected, I am doing much better today than I was yesterday. I am SUCH a freak the first day of a new quarter, seriously.
Speech is going to be challenging, but I think it'll be good for me, and I already like the instructor. I got into the 8:00 math class and dropped the one that traumatized me, so even though I'll have to get up at 6am, I'll be totally done with school by 11:30, and that is really nice. I have missed that. I'm half tempted to do a 7:00 class next spring so I'll get out at around 10. But... eh. I'm not that much of a morning person, and dragging myself to yoga at that time was seriously difficult, and that was only two days a week.
I like my Lord of the Rings instructor, too. I have a feeling that is going to be a good class for me; I just need to get reading. For now, though, I need to do some math!
to everyone! Thanks for all the support!
For SW help and general fun:
1. What is your favorite season, and why? I love them all, but I really love early winter/late fall, when most of the bugs are dormant because it's so cold, but it's not bitterly cold.
2. What is the most awe-inspiring or beautiful thing you've ever experienced? Being in love. Getting married. My sacred memories, too.
3. Which songs are guaranteed to make you cry? I Hope You Dance. 4am by Our Lady Peace used to do it to me, too, but for a very different reason.
4. Which ones are guaranteed to make you dance around like a giddy idiot? Breathless. Video Killed the Radio Stars. A few others.
5. Which book most changed your life or outlook? The Chronicles of Narnia
6. What was the most awkward time of your life? High school.
7. What do you adore the most in all the world? If you're really asking me what, it's my ever growing freedom from anxiety and depression ruling my life. If you're asking who... My husband, my mother, my cousin, my best friend, my cat, my sister, brothers, their children and my in laws.
8. What irritates you the most? People who drive really slowly when I'm in a hurry.
9. When were you happiest (besides now)? My wedding day.
10. What is the perfect meal for you? So long as it has a good dessert...
11. If you could dress in the clothes of any era, what would you wear? 1930's glam
12. What are your best dreams about? Life
13. What is your best "I was so drunk..." story? My husband's "Donnie's dead!" story- I've never been drunk.
14. What is the story of your first love? The story? Exhiliration, little birdies singing disney songs outside my window every morning, a ray of hope like nothing I'd ever experienced entering my heart, excitement like nothing else, feeling beautiful for the first time in my life, that sense of breathless desperation like, "This is IT. It HAS to be...", being incredibly naive and learning my lesson about trusting something that's too good to be true, becoming cynical and angsty and heartbroken and angry and self destructive only to eventually find my way to my husband, who would have formerly entered the category of "Too good to be true" but really, he's too damn good not to be true. There is no end to the story.
15. What is your favorite painting? It really depends on my mood. I ADORE Renoir- there's something about seeing the pieces in person that changes my whole perspective.
16. Who is your favorite Shakespearian character, and why? I don't know.
17. What is the best concert you've ever attended? I don't like crowds enough to go.
18. What is your favorite indulgence or vice? Indulgence: BPAL. Vice: Sweets.
19. What is your greatest regret (again, "no regrets" doesn't count!)? That I can't say I have no regrets. I would do things differently, given the chance, so it's a good thing I can't.
20. What is your favorite physical aspect of yourself? My hair.
21. What is one very interesting fact about you that hasn't yet been shared? I was in New Orleans just over a week before Katrina hit.
I am still undecided. I want this quarter to be a really good one! I don't want to regret not taking precalc. Um. That's about it. Hope you're all doing well!
I am actually in a full-blown panic over never finding a bottle of House of Mirrors. Beaver Moon to a lesser degree. This is sort of scary. I think I need some rest. But it's really, really freaking me out. Seriously, though? House of Mirrors seems to have vanished from the swaps. (I know there are a couple there, but what if nobody ever wants to sell it again? )
And it's not like I have any real reason to be afraid I'll never get my hands on either of them ever again. It's irrational. That's how I know it's a panic attack.
It was a geography class of some sort. Everything about it was unfamiliar. Faces, carpet, desk, rules. . . Everything. It was painful. I wanted to cry all the time. It was so very hot during the day; unrelenting heat, and so early in the year. Everything was wrong. I dreamed about home everytime I closed my eyes.
A scrap of paper was delivered, and it was a small note; pre-typed and a single word scribbled out: home. I was going to be excused from the rest of my classes because I was going home. Home didn't mean the drab little tent in the RV park where we lived. I was certain to the core that home meant leaving this cruel desert and returning to my beloved desert.
As it turns out, I was right.
I wish I knew what happened to the little girl who lived next "door" to us. She was a sweet kid.
Over the course of one or two months, I lost about 40lbs. There was just no money for food. I had lunch at school. That is a diet I would fall back on several times in my life.
It didn't help.
I left that place, but it never left me.
I'm going to do the precalc sequence and then statistics. I hate not having calculus done, but I don't see the point in only partially doing it. Plus, it'll allow me to take other classes I want next winter and spring.
Merry Christmas, lovelies! Even if you don't celebrate the actual holiday, I hope the spirit of the season itself brings warmth and love into your lives. You all deserve it.
Take the best care, and I shall write an entry with the scoop on my holiday swag as soon as possible.
Love to you, darlings!
I was living in Utah when my paternal grandmother died. She was a sweet, beautiful lady. I am so grateful that I spent a lot of time with her when I was growing up. I spent most weekends at her house, and later her apartment. She was lucid and active when she passed away, but she had moved in with her daughter, who lived near Portland at the time. She never wanted to burden her children, so I think that may've been part of the reason she was ready to go. (Quick aside, since I don't want to mar this story with anger, but I really, really dislike my aunt. She took advantage of my grandmother, and there was even suspicion briefly that she may've "helped" her pass on, but again, that's for another time.)
I felt peaceful about it. It wasn't an ugly death, and she lived a long time- though I couldn't tell you her exact age, she was in her late 80s at least, probably early 90s. I was sad that I was so far away, and that I hadn't seen her for some time, but I did okay with it. Thanks to a dear friend who worked with Delta airlines, I was able to fly home for her memorial service and spend some time there to recharge.
The week after her memorial service, we got a phone call from my aunt. She had 2 children- her oldest was a boy, 13, and her youngest was a girl, 7. The girl was a surprise- majorly. My aunt had had her fallopian tubes tied off, and my uncle had a vasectomy, but she was something of a miracle. She looked so much like my uncle that there's no doubt she was his.
I spent summers with them, and at one time had been very close to them. They were like siblings, especially the boy. Then I grew up and didn't spend as much time with them- they lived several hours away, and I was busy, and then I moved.
The call was to let us know that her son had killed himself. You know what the first thing I felt was? Relief. Isn't that horrible? I was afraid that my mother was going to tell me that he had killed somebody else- his sister, classmates, anyone else. He could have been a school shooter, but he wasn't, and I was relieved. I can clearly remember going through all the stages of grief, especially denial, which seems like the most ridiculous one to me. Maybe it was an accident with the gun. Maybe somebody else had done it and made it look like he had done it. Was he at the hospital? Maybe he wasn't even really dead. Maybe they were working on him there.
There was a note. To this day, I absolutely ache to read it, to pore over it, to see what made him do it, and to get some answers. They're not there; they're never there. I didn't ever get to read it, but I morbidly grilled my aunt for details of what had happened leading up to it. I was obsessed with trying to understand. There's no way to understand. The only person who can really provide any answers is gone, and that is the HARDEST thing in the world I've ever had to accept.
It was morning, and his mom left for about 15 minutes, to drop his dad off at work, since they only had the one car that was working. He had eaten his breakfast and showered; gotten ready for school. His homework was done. He and my aunt briefly spoke about buying roses for his girlfriend, and he seemed excited about it.
When my aunt got home, she went downstairs to get him off to school, and he had done it. She said, "No mother should have to see what I saw." I agree. Her daughter was hiding under her bed upstairs. The story goes that she didn't go down to investigate the gunshot, but I'm almost positive that she went down and was actually the first one to find him, and then went and hid until her mom got home.
This may seem almost silly to add in, but the day of his memorial service, we got a call from home- the kid who had been looking after our cat found her dead when he went in to feed her that morning. We'd had her for 18 years; I couldn't remember being without her, and she was probably 20... so that just added one more ache. It was one more loss.
That was such a dark time. I still don't know how you deal with suicide. I never found a way.
My other cousin, his little sister, is the absolute light of my life. She was my maid of honor at my wedding, despite the fact that she was only 15. I love her so much, and I wish I could protect her from all the pain she's been through. She's the one who is possibly moving to Maine, eventually. A few years after her brother's death, she was skiing with her dad, on Thanksgiving, and he had a heart attack and died. This kid has been through the wringer. She is such an inspiration to me, and I don't think she even knows it.
Anyway... I don't know. I guess I needed a mental purge. Sorry if this upsets anybody, though.
