I am a bad blogger.
...oops!
I'll have to get better.
Promise, I will.
Friday, November 06, 2009
Mhmm
Okay so maybe I do sometimes log in to Brendan's facebook account in order to check on his farmville crops. So what? I mean, I'm just being a good girlfriend, I can't let his crops die on him. This has nothing to do with a farmville addiction. RIGHT?
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
When Strangers Close Their Eyes
It's misty this morning.
I woke up with a headache, a sore throat, and a nose full of snot.
I was thinking, the other day, about my great-grandfather's death. He died a few days ago, and was sleeping. My mother told me over the phone, as an afterthought. She said, "You never knew him, Sarah. He was old, and it was his time". Anger and sorrow filled my spirit, at the thought that I would never meet Eugene Clark, the namesake of my grandma's favorite brother.
There are things I snatched up about him, when I was younger, just to know who it was who signed those Christmas, Easter, and even Groundhog's Day letters. Great-grandpa Clark was how I knew him, in a signature cramped at the bottom of a card, outshadowed by the crisp new $5 that was sure to be slipped inside the envelope. Sometimes I wrote back. Many times I did not.
My great-uncle, also called Eugene, preferred to be called Kit to distinguish himself from his father. He told me, confidingly, "Don't always listen to your parents. They're not always right," in reference to his parents, but mostly his father. Eugene. Stubborn as a mule, I heard. Nicknamed "Big Red" because of his fiery hair. Hopeless without his wife, my great-grandma Clark, who died a few years ago.
Everyone said that without her, he would not survive. He hung on a few years, for good measure, I think, to show the world just how ornery he could be. But then, he left, peaceful as can be. He knew he was going to see his great love again--his maker, yes, but more important to him, (for he was not very religious) I'm certain, was holding his wife again.
I like to imagine these things, I tried to explain to my mom. I tried to explain how, even when I don't know someone, I feel a sure and sudden loss when they leave this earth. How she was the one who showed me how to cry at newscasts, and therefore that of course I would miss my great-grandfather, who I had never known. I said "That's the point! I never knew him". I said it with sadness, but with certainty that one day I will meet him again in heaven. He won't be ornery anymore, but sweet.
I woke up with a headache, a sore throat, and a nose full of snot.
I was thinking, the other day, about my great-grandfather's death. He died a few days ago, and was sleeping. My mother told me over the phone, as an afterthought. She said, "You never knew him, Sarah. He was old, and it was his time". Anger and sorrow filled my spirit, at the thought that I would never meet Eugene Clark, the namesake of my grandma's favorite brother.
There are things I snatched up about him, when I was younger, just to know who it was who signed those Christmas, Easter, and even Groundhog's Day letters. Great-grandpa Clark was how I knew him, in a signature cramped at the bottom of a card, outshadowed by the crisp new $5 that was sure to be slipped inside the envelope. Sometimes I wrote back. Many times I did not.
My great-uncle, also called Eugene, preferred to be called Kit to distinguish himself from his father. He told me, confidingly, "Don't always listen to your parents. They're not always right," in reference to his parents, but mostly his father. Eugene. Stubborn as a mule, I heard. Nicknamed "Big Red" because of his fiery hair. Hopeless without his wife, my great-grandma Clark, who died a few years ago.
Everyone said that without her, he would not survive. He hung on a few years, for good measure, I think, to show the world just how ornery he could be. But then, he left, peaceful as can be. He knew he was going to see his great love again--his maker, yes, but more important to him, (for he was not very religious) I'm certain, was holding his wife again.
I like to imagine these things, I tried to explain to my mom. I tried to explain how, even when I don't know someone, I feel a sure and sudden loss when they leave this earth. How she was the one who showed me how to cry at newscasts, and therefore that of course I would miss my great-grandfather, who I had never known. I said "That's the point! I never knew him". I said it with sadness, but with certainty that one day I will meet him again in heaven. He won't be ornery anymore, but sweet.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Double dog dares
...are for sissies.
I'm all about National Novel Writing Month.
Do you dare? Do I?
Well. Let this be a challenge.
The supremest challenge of them all:
To write, until our fingers ache with the blessed burden of writing all our full and heavy hearts have to say. Eh?
Helpful hint: do not use words like "supremest", even in your first draft. They will probably only frustrate your editor, who, chances are, already doubles as your boyfriend anyway.
I'm all about National Novel Writing Month.
Do you dare? Do I?
Well. Let this be a challenge.
The supremest challenge of them all:
To write, until our fingers ache with the blessed burden of writing all our full and heavy hearts have to say. Eh?
Helpful hint: do not use words like "supremest", even in your first draft. They will probably only frustrate your editor, who, chances are, already doubles as your boyfriend anyway.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Orange Sky
Hello.
Today, I am
1. Knitting my first scarf.
2. Listening to Alexi Murdoch.
3. Reading The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
4. And, of course, I have a batch of sugar cookies in the oven as we speak.
P.S. If parents today weren't so afraid of psychos who poison children for fun, I would give away these yummy cookies as treats for the trick-or-treaters. Man. Those psychos ruin it for everyone.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Brendan's mom sent me candies in the mail....
And then the momma I babysit for brought me a bag of goodies.
With coffee.
And such.
I love treats!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Priscilla Ahn can make me feel better about anything. It's true.
I was going to be Max (from Where the Wild Things Are) for Halloween.
Halloween is a big, big deal at my school, and I wanted to do it. For reals. So I printed out a pattern to make a "Max hat" with wolf ears and squiggly whiskers. Adorable. And I bought a cream colored tunic and cream colored shorts to wear underneath the tunic.
And I had to buy sewing supplies to make the hat with... so I bought needles, thread, and batting. And, of course, the fabric. And felt, for the "claws". I was so prepared.
But the thing is, those purchases weren't cheap. At all. They were all way more than I expected to pay. Who knew fabric was so expensive? Not I.
Anddd I left the store feeling guiltier than I could imagine. I am not rich! I can't go throwing money around willy nilly! I have school to pay for! I still haven't found the weekend job I need! I'm getting married in a year!
So after a tearful (okay not really tearful but that sounds dramatic) afternoon I've decided to part ways with my buys....
I'm taking back most of the supplies (barring the fabric, which is nonrefundable after it's cut to size, and the clothing, which I'll only get store credit for). It's sad. I'll still be at like a $30 loss from this little venture. I guess I can always use extra clothes though. (I never buy new clothes. And it was $13 for a new top AND shorts, which is still way less than girls my age usually spend, if I can rationalize to make myself feel better).... And can use the fabric swatch to make a blanket with. I guess. If I freaking put my skills to use.
I hate.hate.hate. feeling guilty. wsjakfjkjkdjfkdjfkdj
Just FYI, though, Priscilla Ahn is incredibly uplifting to listen to, if you happen to feel guilty about something. And pasta's always a nice fix, too. And knowing you get to babysit the loveliest baby in all the land all day from 8 to 4 tomorrow. That helps. :)
Halloween is a big, big deal at my school, and I wanted to do it. For reals. So I printed out a pattern to make a "Max hat" with wolf ears and squiggly whiskers. Adorable. And I bought a cream colored tunic and cream colored shorts to wear underneath the tunic.
And I had to buy sewing supplies to make the hat with... so I bought needles, thread, and batting. And, of course, the fabric. And felt, for the "claws". I was so prepared.
But the thing is, those purchases weren't cheap. At all. They were all way more than I expected to pay. Who knew fabric was so expensive? Not I.
Anddd I left the store feeling guiltier than I could imagine. I am not rich! I can't go throwing money around willy nilly! I have school to pay for! I still haven't found the weekend job I need! I'm getting married in a year!
So after a tearful (okay not really tearful but that sounds dramatic) afternoon I've decided to part ways with my buys....
I'm taking back most of the supplies (barring the fabric, which is nonrefundable after it's cut to size, and the clothing, which I'll only get store credit for). It's sad. I'll still be at like a $30 loss from this little venture. I guess I can always use extra clothes though. (I never buy new clothes. And it was $13 for a new top AND shorts, which is still way less than girls my age usually spend, if I can rationalize to make myself feel better).... And can use the fabric swatch to make a blanket with. I guess. If I freaking put my skills to use.
I hate.hate.hate. feeling guilty. wsjakfjkjkdjfkdjfkdj
Just FYI, though, Priscilla Ahn is incredibly uplifting to listen to, if you happen to feel guilty about something. And pasta's always a nice fix, too. And knowing you get to babysit the loveliest baby in all the land all day from 8 to 4 tomorrow. That helps. :)
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