Thanksgiving

Yesterday was nice.
I'm thankful that my aunt Crissy got to come out. I'm pissed that Airon didn't get to come because of his stupid dad.
I'm thankful that everyone was nice to each other yesterday.
I'm thankful that Mom is feeling better.
I'm thankful for my sisters.
I'm thankful for my kitten. I'm pissed that he wakes me up at 2 A.M.
I'm thankful for Groovy Josh.
I'm thankful for new friends.
I'm thankful for old friends.
I'm thankful for my job.
I'm thankful for being blessed with a nice ass. *smiles*
I'm thankful for Bethany.
I'm thankful for summertime.
I'm thankful for Mary and that she's back to work now.
I'm thankful for letters in my mailbox.
I'm thankful for Becky.
I'm thankful for Trent (this cute little boy that comes in here sometimes. He has the biggest, sweetest smile and he makes me smile).
I'm thankful for Celeste being here today so Kevin wanted to talk to her instead of me (by the way, I think I made him mad tonight. Hee hee! He was being really negative and I said I didn't want to talk to him anymore, so he left.)
I'm thankful that Celeste is getting married soon so now Kevin knows he doesn't have a chance.
I'm thankful for lots of stuff.
Okay, bye.

Winter SUCKS!

I have come to a very profound conclusion after giving the matter a whole lot of thought. Winter sucks. It really really does. It started snowing Wednesday. I like snow, I just don't like the cold. I don't like walking outside and feeling my face go numb and have snot running down my face and not being able to feel it so I walk around looking like a six-year-old (you know, the ones that always seem to have a premanent trail of grossness running down their nose and when it reaches a cretain point they stick their tongue up as far as it'll go and lick it off). I mean, how gross is that?
Winter is also a time for sickness. I hate sickness. Mom is really sick again. She hasn't been healthy since she came back from Uncle Bernard's funeral in Arizona with the pneumonia that she caught from Grandma. That was like in August or something. All these months she's been battling with it and losing. I think it has something to do with all the smelly animals in here and the smoking. Aunt Lori came in to my work last night and told me that she put her foot down. She said she was going to take Mom to the doctor today if she had to drag her and pull her the whole way. She was fully ready to use force, but Mom went willingly. I'm glad that she listened to her. She never listens to me. She has no insurance and she doesn't want to take any more of my money. I've told her a bazillion times that I don't care. She's too proud. I wouldn't want to take someone else's money either, so I guess I can't blame her. But I asked her several times if she'd rather go to the doctor now or go to the hospital later. Aunt Lori used that same one. She told her if she didn't go, then she was just gonna haul her butt to the hospital.
Winter not only brings cold and sickness, but also unfathomable boredom. I thought my life was monotonous in the summer, now here comes winter to show me what it's really like to be bored out of my mind all day every day of my LIFE!
I do like snow, though. I like to shovel snow, sled in snow, snowboard in snow, have snowball fights, take walks in snow.
Oh and I like Christmas, despite its commercialization. I'm very Charlie Brown when it comes to that, but also Linus and Lucy. Well, not so much Lucy. She's kind of weird.

Veteran's Day

I always think about my grandpa on Veteran's Day. I miss Grandpa. He died when I was like 9. He was awesome. I wish he was still around. I'm pretty sure he'd be proud of the way I turned out. He always was proud of me and all my little daily accomplishments. I remember going to visit him and sitting on his lap, drawing on his yellow legal pad, drinking Tang. Grandpa always had Tang for me. I remeber how he smelled. He smelled sweet like Breathsavers and tobacco and that old Grandpa smell that I just can't even describe. The best present I ever got for Christmas was the brand new Radio Flyer that he gave me. He gave one to Cody, too, and we had some good times with those wagons. At my house we always used to get in them and race down the hill, seeing who could get to the bottom the fastest and crash the biggest. Those were the good old days.
Grandpa came to live with us shortly after Emma was born. He was always sitting at the dining room table, drinking his Pabst Blue Ribbon, listening to Mary Chapin Carpenter on the radio when I got home from school every day. He'd always ask me what I did that day and I'd show him the good grades I got on my tests or whatever and he'd pull some change out of his pocket and give it to me. That was Grandpa's thing. He always gave me a big box of change on my birthday that he had spent the whole year saving up just for me. Grandpa was my world. When he died I thought for sure that I would cease living, too. Mom and Dad wouldn't let me go to the funeral and I was really mad at them for that for a long time. I guess it was for the best, though. Those days when we visited him in the hospital while he was being treated for the cancer, those were hard days. I hated seeing my grandpa like that, helpless, laying in a bed, wearing a hospital gown. He died in the nursing home. That was the last place he wanted to be when he died. If I ever go to a nursing home when I'm old I think I'll do the same thing he did. Just quit eating. Quit trying. That's where I got my pride from. Grandpa was the proudest, most stubborn man I ever knew. And oh how I loved him.

I'm sitting here with Meiko in the pocket of my sweatshirt. He loves it in my pocket. He either wants to be in my pocket or in my hood. He likes to sit in my hood and chew on my neck. Unfortunately, I am allergic, so I have a lovely rash all over my neck now. Plus, I wore the necklace that Hayley gave me two days without taking it off. I'm sure that didn't help. It's a really cute necklace and I like to wear it becuase it makes me feel special. It's one of those little girl necklaces that says "friend" on it. She has the one that says "best." She gave it to me because she said that I am her best friend. How sweet is that?
Today is Hannah's tenth birthday. I can't believe she's that old already. I remember the first day I saw her when she was only two days old. She was so tiny, so cute. I couldn't keep my eyes off her. Mom always got mad at me because I'd quit doing my schoolwork and just walk over to her crib and look at her. I sketched her once when she was about two years old. She had fallen asleep on my couch and I lovingly covered her with my blanket and decided I had better take advantage of her stillness and draw her. It's the best drawing I've ever done. I haven't been able to even come close to it. Maybe that's why I gave up drawing. I still have it in a folder somewhere.
I don't have to work today due to the holiday. I'm kind of bummed because I won't get a letter until Monday. That's four whole days without a letter. I just gave him one yesterday.
It'll be nice to be able to spend the whole day with my sisters. I'll definitely be ready for a break tomorrow, though, so you won't hear me complaining about having to work this Saturday. I'm going to take the girls to see "Dreamer" tonight. Then I promised I'd take them to see "Chicken Little" Sunday. Last night Chayse asked me to come to his play tomorrow night. They're doing "Our Town" at the high school. He's a pallbearer, he said. So it looks like I'll have a full weekend.
I'm kind of feeling like crap today. I hate to hurt people. I hurt him really bad. His sister came in last night and I couldn't even look at her, I felt so ashamed. I'm sure his family hates me now. I would hate me, too. I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't stand the thought of holding him back from what's out there for him. All he ever said was that I never hold him back, but I know I did. He can't find true happiness if he's consumed with me. I just really hate myself today. I honestly did like him, I just didn't love him and I didn't want him to keep thinking that there was a chance that I would someday.
I wonder what it's like to be in love. I've never felt that before. I'm more afraid of falling in love than anything else. It would be nice, yes, but it still scares me. I'm afraid of that just like I'm afraid of death, I guess. Instead of embracing the unknown I fear it.
In our letters we've just talked about generic stuff and it's been really nice. There's no pressure. It's nice just being friends and getting to know each other. You know what's weird? I've only talked with him face-to-face twice.

Happenings of Late

Yesterday wasn't a great day. When Dad picked me up from work I asked him how his night was, he answered,"Don't ask." A little while later he told me what happened. He was trying to fix the furnace because it hasn't been kicking on lately. He went down to the basement and saw that the pilot light went out, so he needed to light it. The thermostat was still on and when he lit it it basically blew up in his face. A huge flame whooshed out and singed off all the hair on his face and burned his face. It was really bad. My dad has had so many close calls that I can't even think about it. The thought that it could have been worse really scares me. That's something that Erin writes about a lot, the fear of losing her parents. That's my biggest fear. I would totally lose myself if I ever lost my parents. My dad is in the wrong line of work to stay safe. It's just really frightening. He's fell of ladders, roofs, been electrocuted (you know what I mean..), dropped refrigerators on his feet. There's just too much that could go wrong.
Then on top of that, when he started the truck to come get me, one of the kittens was in the engine. Hannah was in the truck, too. So that was really awful. Poor Hannah. The last cat that happened to survived, but this one was too little. He didn't make it.

In other news...we've been writing letters for about two or three weeks. Every other day there is an envelope in my mail box with my name on it. It makes me happy. Oh so very happy. I really like him. It's kind of different, this whole letter-writing thing. It's nice. I called him one day and asked if he wanted my email address, but he said he wasn't good friends with computers. I thought maybe he was blowing me off, but I received the first letter the next day. I was very relieved that he wasn't blowing me off. Normally we just write about generic stuff like movies and music. Yesterday his letter was more personal. It caused me to wonder why he told me. He told me about his bad habits (which I already had figured out about two seconds after he first told me he had a few bad habits) and his weekend. It wasn't a good weekend. I wondered why he told me. He said it was important that I know. I'm glad he told me. I'm relieved that he's not perfect. That would suck if he was. His mom, unfortunately, has no clue about my dark side. I shared a little with him. His mom is trying to set us up because she thinks I'm a really good person. Appearances are deceiving, you know. Sure, I look sweet and innocent. I act sweet and innocent, but I'm good at acting and appearances. He shared his dark side, so I went against my better judgement and shared mine. You'd think that I would have learned from last time. I did that last time and I couldn't get rid of him, I was afraid that he would use that information against me somehow if I dumped him. He hasn't. I don't think he would do that to me. He loved me. I felt awful breaking his heart like that, but he knew how I felt.
Anyway, I don't think this one will do that. He's different. The other one never shared anything with me. I felt like I didn't even know him. Yes, this one is different.

My Own Hero

There was a fire last night in the vicinity of our yard. I put it out. Yay me. Stupid disrespectful kids.
I heard a truck when I was playing on the computer last night. When I looked out the window after I heard the truck leave I saw a strange light. Hm. I had never noticed that before. I walked outside and found myself being pulled by a strange magnetic force to this eerie source of light. What is it, I wondered. Was it perhaps the remnants of a UFO? Was it a flashlight with a person attached to it, standing very still? Was it a lantern filled with a never-ending fuel supply? Was it a reflection of a street light? What could it be?
Fire. It was fire. You know that red and orange-ish stuff that hurts when you touch it? It kind of burns, you know? Well, that's what it was. Fire. There was a fire inside of this big yellow thick plastic five foot long, two foot high blockade bricky thing. Someone had somehow lit a fire inside of this big yellow bricky thing and it was quickly spreading throughout its hollow insides. Smoke whooshed out of one hole and flames shot out the other hole.
I traversed back up to the house, found a bucket, filled it with water from the house and set off down the hill to try my hand at fire-fighting. I won. I fought that fire. It died. I lived. The end. Okay, not really. I'm not done yet.
So yeah, I went down there with the bucket full of water. I walk-ran down the hill, splattering little drops of water on my awesome new boots along the way. I didn't care about ruining my awesome new boots(well, yeah, the thought had crossed my mind to change into some less awesome shoes, but I had no time). I was a woman on a mission. I had to fight that fire. I have had dreams about fires starting down there and watching the flames lick their way all the way up to the house to torch our beloved home. I wasn't about to let that occur. Nope. Not this time.
So when I safely reached the fire I dipped my hand into the bucket and splattered some water on the fire to make sure that it wasn't like a grease fire and if I put water on it then I would die. Well, guess what. It was a grease fire. I put that water on the fire. The fire whooshed up into my face. I suffered from third degree burns on 90% of my body. And then I died. So yes. I am dead. Dead dead dead. I am dead. I am a ghost. No. Not really. Ha ha. I had you there, didn't I?
So yeah. I poured that bucket of water on the fire. The fire went out after the water washed through the insides of the bricky thing. There was a hole burnt into the top of the bricky thing. The hole was like a foot in diameter. So yeah. The whole thing would have been engulfed in flames if it weren't for me putting out that fire. So yes. I am my own hero.

Yay, Friday!

Man, I was wailing away on my guitar today. I have periods when I totally get it and I totally rock and then periods when I can't seem to get my fingers to follow the directions my brain is sending. Today was a good guitar day. I'm learning the Rolling Stones' Start Me Up. Awesome song. Of course I'm learning the WAY simplified version in my Introduction to Electric Guitar book, but STILL. It feels like music.
My friend Scott came in tonight and we were talking about the guitar. He is learning, too. He has an acoustic, an electric and a banjo (I told him he should learn it so he can be all Kermit the Frog in "The Muppet Movie". He took offense to that for some reason...). We were talking about that when Groovy Josh walked in and kind of gave Scott a look behind his back. You know the look...THE LOOK. I told Scott that I dressed as a rock star for Halloween and I looked really hot. Then Josh whispered to me as he set his movies on the counter,"That's not quite the word I used." Scott didn't hear.
While he was looking at dvd's Josh was motioning for me to go over there. I held up my hand to say just a minute. Then when he was checking out (Scott was still standing there) I told him sorry that I didn't go over and help him. "Oh, I just wanted to talk to you..." So I asked him if he got his new tattoo yet and he said something and then he left. Before he walked out the door he turned around and gave me a look, motioning to Scott. Ah, yes. THAT look. I shook my head ever so slightly. I think that answered his question. It was kind of funny cuz he was like totally jealous.
I totally don't want to go to work tomorrow. Saturdays are the worst. SOO boring. I actually dread Fridays because it means that I have to go to work in the morning. Gr. But I have a project, so maybe I'll be able to keep myself awake. Maybe. I don't think I'd know what to do with myself if I had Saturdays off. I kind of like working Saturdays in a weird way. It gives me something to do...

Halloween

Yesterday was great. Mom and the girls went to the Hollywood party at Mom's work. They were all dressed up and glamorous looking. I dressed as a rock star for work. I couldn't think of anything else, so I wore my black pants, new black boots, black Beatles shirt, and my black beret. I put on makeup, too (something I rarely do). I looked pretty hot. It's fun to dress up. I wish I could do that every day. Next year I want to be catwoman.
When I was weeding the classical cd's (they're located by the door) I heard someone open the doors, followed by a loud bang and,"Son of a...!!!" Josh (the groovy one) walked in a second later.
I laughed and said,"Hi..."
"What's shakin'" he asked. Later when he was leaving he walked over to me, put a hand up to the side of his mouth like he was telling me a secret and whispered,"You look f*cking sexy!" Okay, is that sexual harrasment?
Anyway, it was fun being a rock star for a night (and looking really, really hot for once). I told my co-workers that my name was Elle. Just Elle. It was great.
I was kind of conflicted about the whole Halloween thing. We stopped celebrating it when I was about 8 or 9 because Mom said it was an evil day and explained to me how Halloween came about. Then all of a sudden she was all about the party at her work and evidently Halloween is okay now. So I was confused, but I figured if it's okay with her, then it's okay with me.