Life Update
So, despite myself, I was going to comb back through my drabbles and ficlets in search of something to submit for the SWG's Seven in '07 project. (Yep, more shameless pimpage.) I'm not sure though if I'll be able to do that.
It's just my brother and me in the house this week, with me sleeping in my parents bedroom with the dogs, since the crate would not fit in my room, plus why move it if you don't have to? Anyways, Monday we got a call from my uncle just as my dad was walking out the door to go to the airport for a business trip (around 10 AM) saying that my grandmother had died. Chaos ensues in which my dad tries to cancel his business trip and get tickets for him and my mom to fly up on a 12:30 PM flight - the only flight leaving that day. I stayed home to take care of the puppy, since he's too young to be left alone in the house with just someone coming by three times to feed him.
I'm sad that my grandma died, but not really crushed by grief or anything. We weren't all that close (seeing as I only saw her about once a year). I think the worst part about the whole deal is that her dying is a reminder that other people will die too, and that will be terrible. But then at the same time, it's not like I can sit here and worry about when people around me are going to die, because it's not something I can prevent by waiting for it, and it's not something that any amount of wishing can reverse once it does happen. Not that that necessarily makes it better in every case but, for this one it does. If that even makes sense. In all honesty - and I know this probably sounds absolutely awful of me - I was more upset when my dog died. Anyway. Enough about death. Except that I should add that death, and moreso than death, dead is such an ugly word. Really. Dead. I think it makes the whole concept even worse. Or maybe the concept makes the word ugly. I'm not sure.
So here I am, day two of getting up at an ungodly hour. Louis wakes up at 5:30 AM. O.o This morning I took him out, then put him back to bed and said that I was not going to remove my behind from the bed until at least 6:30. Luckily, he must have realized that I meant it, and I got to sleep in until 6:50. I know. Late. O.o He's actually trying to nap right now, but I'm going to wake him up once I post this and throw him in the pool so he'll tire himself out.
Still don't have a job. Still don't have a place to ride. Cue angst.
Also, I have a million mosquito bites, and I am hardly exaggerating. Why do the little $%@!ers love my blood so much?!?!
On a happier note, I decided that watching Van Helsing was in order, so moved it up to number 1 in the Netflix cue, and sent all three movies my parents got back. Hopefully it will arrive soon and I can drool over Hugh Jackman. Especially when he is shirtless, even if his shirtlessness does not last nearly long enough.
Mood:
Weird - not really, but I like to fancy myself being able to pull that kind of awesome scariness at a pin drop
It's just my brother and me in the house this week, with me sleeping in my parents bedroom with the dogs, since the crate would not fit in my room, plus why move it if you don't have to? Anyways, Monday we got a call from my uncle just as my dad was walking out the door to go to the airport for a business trip (around 10 AM) saying that my grandmother had died. Chaos ensues in which my dad tries to cancel his business trip and get tickets for him and my mom to fly up on a 12:30 PM flight - the only flight leaving that day. I stayed home to take care of the puppy, since he's too young to be left alone in the house with just someone coming by three times to feed him.
I'm sad that my grandma died, but not really crushed by grief or anything. We weren't all that close (seeing as I only saw her about once a year). I think the worst part about the whole deal is that her dying is a reminder that other people will die too, and that will be terrible. But then at the same time, it's not like I can sit here and worry about when people around me are going to die, because it's not something I can prevent by waiting for it, and it's not something that any amount of wishing can reverse once it does happen. Not that that necessarily makes it better in every case but, for this one it does. If that even makes sense. In all honesty - and I know this probably sounds absolutely awful of me - I was more upset when my dog died. Anyway. Enough about death. Except that I should add that death, and moreso than death, dead is such an ugly word. Really. Dead. I think it makes the whole concept even worse. Or maybe the concept makes the word ugly. I'm not sure.
So here I am, day two of getting up at an ungodly hour. Louis wakes up at 5:30 AM. O.o This morning I took him out, then put him back to bed and said that I was not going to remove my behind from the bed until at least 6:30. Luckily, he must have realized that I meant it, and I got to sleep in until 6:50. I know. Late. O.o He's actually trying to nap right now, but I'm going to wake him up once I post this and throw him in the pool so he'll tire himself out.
Still don't have a job. Still don't have a place to ride. Cue angst.
Also, I have a million mosquito bites, and I am hardly exaggerating. Why do the little $%@!ers love my blood so much?!?!
On a happier note, I decided that watching Van Helsing was in order, so moved it up to number 1 in the Netflix cue, and sent all three movies my parents got back. Hopefully it will arrive soon and I can drool over Hugh Jackman. Especially when he is shirtless, even if his shirtlessness does not last nearly long enough.
Mood:
Weird - not really, but I like to fancy myself being able to pull that kind of awesome scariness at a pin drop