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Yesterday I got the gut feeling that I needed to call my mom. No one answered and I gave up without leaving a message - this is normal with my family. We leave messages only if it is an emergency, a birthday, and even then we might not.

My mom called back a couple hours later to tell me Chloe was at the vet and it didn't look good. She called me again later in the evening to tell me that they had decided to let her go, there was just too much going wrong and she was in too much pain.

Twelve years ago I got two kittens at 2.2 weeks old and bottle fed them. It was a rewarding and difficult experience, but so worth it. The black female kitten was named Chloe (for the song "Chloe Dancer/Crown of Thorns" by Mother Love Bone), and her gray brother was named James (for the song "Not Now James, We're Busy" by Pop Will Eat Itself).

James passed away a year and a half ago of congestive heart failure. About a year before that Chloe had been diagnosed with sinus cancer, and was given a couple of weeks to months to live - obviously she didn't agree, 'cause she lasted two and half years after the diagnosis and surgery.

Chloe was the first kitty to teach me about unconditional love, what it felt like to be gifted with it and to really give it. It was a bittersweet lesson for my 23 year old self, to realize the love I could have, maybe should have, understood was something a small black kitten had to teach me, rather than the people around me.

I used to get Chloe and James those kitty fishing poles, with the elastic strings and a fluffy critter on the end. Every time I got a new one, at some point Chloe would chew through the elastic and take off with the fluffy critter. Sometimes she would give it a bath in her water bowl, but one of her favorite things to do was put it in my mom's purse when she wasn't looking. My mother would find the toy later, usually while she was about to pay for groceries. Chloe had her way of showing her love.

So Chloe, my love, I will miss you so much. I thank you for your love, for taking care of my great-aunt through numerous surgery recoveries, for staying with my mom while my aunt was in surgery, for being brave and beautiful. You will always be in heart, Chloe-bug, I hope we will meet again.
transient_orange: (corax)
On September 9 I was in a car accident, it was my fault. I tried to take a right hand turn into a parking lot, and hit a Ford instead. Initially, the only damage to my car was that I lost the front bumper, passenger light carriage, and the passenger side fender was crushed near the front. It didn't seem to be that bad - but I'm not a professional.

Yesterday the insurance company called and said it was probably totaled. I finally cried, but I had to hold my head together because I had to go to work. I lost my shit when I got home. I hold the blame, but I'm so happy that no one got hurt. The car protected me, but I wrecked it. I feel guilty and shameful still - not as bad as yesterday, but it still lingers. It is a form of mourning, and I'm not good at mourning. Today we got official word that it was a total loss.

Tomorrow we go to sign off on it and collect what was left in the car. Then over the next week or so, we'll make the decision on what the next car will be. I'll be honest, I loved the audi, and I'd love to get another one, but they are bloody expensive. For what that is worth, they are fantastic cars and beautiful to drive. The A4 was named Eddie, after the ships computer on the Heart of Gold from Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

It hurts. I hate wrecking cars. I hate being in car wrecks. I hate the money involved, the time wasted, the paperwork, the running around like a chicken with its head cut off. I feel as though I'm covered with spikes and want to spit acid at anyone that gets too close, I'm not feeling very rational at the moment. My heart aches, but this is coming to a close and it is time to move on. I'll go tomorrow and thank Eddie for keeping me safe, for being a most excellent car. And maybe I'll cry.
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It's been a long time since I last wrote and a lot has changed.

One thing that hasn't changed is that I still continue to go to the dojo. Sword continues to be something I love, though I have not belt tested yet. Aikido continues to be a challenge. I often feel as though I am made of thumbs and left feet, but my stamina and balance have improved, so it seems to be helping, even in small ways. I love the challenges both give me, the lessons they teach, not only for myself, but for whoever I work with. I never believed I could enjoy a physical activity, but I've found something that works for me, that speaks to me.
health and diet )
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This last week was an adventure. My best friend's oldest (niece by way of chosen family) came to visit as part of her 16th birthday gift. She arrived on the 3rd and stayed until this morning.

Summer vacation, the abridged addition )
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So today's headache is brought to me by Tension - meaning frustration and just stuff.

My frustration is stemmed by the people questioning me. Questioning my commitment to Sparkle Motion™. Sparkle Motion™ could be anything in life, but it makes it more colorful to put that in the place of X. My commitment to anything is a very personal thing. I failed at being a Christian, because I didn't want to be a hypocrite (you can ponder that one for a bit). I failed at dating, 'cause I didn't want to string someone along. I failed at x, y, or z, because people questioned my motives, my choices, my commitment too goddamned much. And now I realize, fuck 'em. Let people question what I'm doing. Not my problem, because those questions aren't mine. I know what I'm doing, however well or badly I'm doing at it. It's my choice to do it, and whether not I become the best Sparkle Motion™ dancer is between me, myself, and I.

See, it's one of those things. I'm not hurting anyone else by my choice of this commitment, it's completely mine. Sparkle Motion™ right now is sword. Yes, I realize I don't practice enough. I've never practiced enough at anything, but I'm trying. I'm giving it a chance. I'm not the best at physical things, I know this and realize that anything I choose to do is an uphill battle, but it's my fucking battle. No one else is going to suffer, if I suck at it. No one else is going to be sitting there with a bokken, while everyone else has graduated to steel. No one else is feeling like an idiot when I fuck something up. And it's glorious.

I used to play piano, and gods it was a struggle. I can't carry a tune in a bucket, and I'm pretty much tone deaf. I can read music, but I'm not so hot at timing, and yet, I still try. Yeah, right now I haven't played in awhile, mostly because anytime I have tried to play, E immediately wants to jam together. I appreciate his fervor and interest, but honestly, despite years of trying, I still suck. I play for enjoyment, because I can't play in a band or even really do well enough to do a recital. It takes time, energy, and desire for me to get a piece right and when I do, the pleasure is mine. If others want to listen, awesome, but my father made me shy about it, because every time I hit a sour note, he made sure to tell me. It got to a point that I'd tell him that he could play the goddamned thing, if he thought he could do better. That shut him right up.

Knitting, on the other hand, I can actually do better than almost anything else I've tried my hand at. For some reason pointy sticks and lengths of yarn can become something beautiful and useful. My own attempts at creating things have ranged from decent to gods awful. I love trying to make toys, but my attempts are hideous at best. I have a fuzzy green Cthulhu peanut-shaped thing with a red fez on - he's hideous, but I love him, because I made him. With time I might be able to create beautiful things, but at the moment, I still flounder.

Another thing I'm passably good at is picking out flavors. I attempt to cook, and sometimes it comes out awesome. Other times the idea was good, but the execution belongs in the gallows. I'm not so hot at the cooking part, which is why I'll point E in a direction and say, "Please, try this!" When I ask, usually the idea comes out pretty darned good, but when I do it, there is a 50/50 chance that it may end up awful.

So yeah, I'm not so hot at doing stuff. I try and somethings I'll continue blundering through until either a light bulb finally goes off over my head, or I decide that it is purely for my own enjoyment. Sometimes I quit, because well, it wasn't really my thing to begin with, and I realize that there is nothing wrong with that.

What I have gotten out of going to the dojo that is useful is amazing. Little things like opening jars for myself, being able to avoid tripping over things, being able to get off the couch without having to use my arms, actually being able to do a push up, and slowly upping my catching reflexes. These things are good, and things I notice. Do they really help others? Maybe in little ways, mostly time saving. But if this is the trade off I get for feeling like a three year old with a really large stick, then maybe the way I'm doing things isn't so horrible. I don't know if I'll ever be hardcore or a black belt, but that wasn't the goal. My goal has been to learn balance, to get in better shape, and finally defend myself, if I need to. I'd much rather warn someone off, than actually whack them with a broom, but if the situation presents itself, I know that I can at least get a good one in, before I run like a little girl and find someone bigger to help me.
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I've done it (twice, for the same, wonderful man). I've been with him for 9 years and it's been completely worth it. The first year is always the hardest, but having the person I love with me just means that the move is an adventure.
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I woke up with a headache today. I'm gonna blame that on the sudden arrival of summer and the last of the crazy pollen that California seems to drum up. While this sucked, I had a few good points to a day that could have really crappy.

First was, Jen posting her works in progress on her blog. She's making each of her bridesmaids a shawl and had us each pick our yarn, and our pattern. So I chose the yarn and chose a pattern that I love, but knew I would never do, and Jen, the crazy little creature she is, tackled it and added beads. But the pictures she took of it make me want to cuddle it. So shiny and pretty, she spoils us. I must plan proper retaliation. :)

Second, I got to talk with my niece on AIM. We just basically spent time talking about random things and just enjoying each other's company. I have to call her mom tomorrow, I have a bunch of stuff to share with her and I know she likes the phone calls a little more than the AIM messages, or spotty WoW conversations we have.

Third, I went to lay down, because of my headache, and the phone rings. I groan, but get up to get it, because E should be home soon. Sure enough it was him and I was greeted with, "Put on your pants and shoes and come outside. Don't ask any questions." I had my pants on thankfully, so I just needed to slip on my shoes. I grabbed my purse, just in case, and went out the door. He tells me we're going for a walk, that he wants to show me something. So he leads me up to the local park/pasture and I hear a sound. It's sounds like a baby animal.

My first thought was ooh, maybe there was a cow and a calf nearby, but no, there was an entire flock of sheep! Big ones, little ones, horned ones, and wooly ones! I did some research and found out that some of them are Jacob sheep (otherwise known as piebald sheep). A lot of the males had gnarly horns, and some of them had four! I'd never seen a sheep with four horns before! So we walked from one end of where there were to the other, a bit further up the hill. I stopped and oohed over the little ones. One little lamb was following it's mother around and decided it was time to nurse right then. I learned right then and there that lambs do not nurse gently, but at the same time, its little tail was wagging like a little fan. So very cute! I'm thinking of going and taking pictures tomorrow.

Other than that, things have been okay. It looks like this summer is going to be busy, between Josh visiting this weekend, the Fourth of July coming up, E having a business trip in July, my birthday, then E's mom coming to visit, and then maybe his sister coming out for a little bit. I hope that we can get at least one trip into San Francisco in, as well as Monterey. I want to be a proper tourist for a little while.

On the crappy front, need to get a home blood pressure thing so I can prove to my doctor that I do not have high blood pressure and that it's just my damned anxiety that made it seem wonky. She didn't pay attention to me saying I have white coat syndrome, but when the nurse came into take my bp again, she said it was on the high side of normal. I guess I need to buy the Honey Nut Cheerios™ for my cholesterol while I'm at it. The doctor said she didn't want to put me on blood pressure medication yet, because she feels it's a matter of when, not if. Thanks, like I need another pill on top of the plethora of other medications I have to take each day.

Thinking about the medications that I do have to take, while I realize that I could choose not to take any of them, only one is truly by choice, and that's my birth control. The allergy medicine is so I can sleep at night and the others are so I can try to be a productive member of society (because there is something like a very cuddly Hulk living in my head and it doesn't understand that we don't love like jackhammer, that's only for special people).

Speaking of society, think I'm gonna hit the knitting group tomorrow night. It's not far away, and I guess they were giving the local Starbucks enough sales, that the Starbucks recently closed for renovations and now has a lovely big table to one side and plenty of couches and coffee tables around. It should be very comfy.

And this concludes our spotty broadcast for today!
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Yesterday was eventful and crappy. E had taken the day off so we could finally go and get our CA driver's licenses and I needed a blood draw after a 12 hour fast. Woke up in a fair bit of pain that stayed pretty constant through out the day. On a normal day, I would have told E that I needed to rest, but I wasn't going to waste that fast for being in pain. Went to the suggested lab, got all my information down, and had a very nice woman do a very fast, painless draw. I'm in love. It could also be because I drank a crazy amount of water, so my veins were easy to find.

After that we went out for breakfast and then realized we should get the check book before going to the dmv, ran back to the house so I could deposit the leftovers in the fridge and get said checks. Went back to the dmv, filled out our paper work and waited to be called up to start the process. It was a much quicker visit than the vehicle registration (cheaper too).

While waiting in line, an elderly man says to the woman in front of him, "Can you spell hard water with just three letters?" The woman looks baffled and asks me what he means (couldn't identify her accent - maybe russian?). The man chuckles and say, "Hard water with just three letters, I-C-E! Ice is definitely hard water!" The woman's eyes widen and she starts to giggle and thanks the man for making her day.

E gets his temp license while I'm waiting in line, and then I get handed my piece of paper that stands in for the license that will be mailed to me in 4-6 weeks (man, were we spoiled on the east coast, go into the dmv and get your license within an hour of getting your picture taken, totally miss that). But we are now officially inmates of the insane asylum that is called California. So bloody weird, I tell you.

Hopefully I'll know sometime in the next couple days where my thyroid numbers are at and how my blood sugar is. Then the doctor will hopefully adjust my meds and I can start feeling like a normal, not constantly moody, human. I'm really getting sick of the Jeckyll and Hyde act going on in my head. The idea of combustible lemons should not be embraced. ;)
transient_orange: (pretty)
Everything started Thursday, when we went to go to Sue's house and the car wouldn't start. We got a jump from our downstairs neighbor and went to hang out. Lisa made awesome shepherd's pie and we hung out and had a lot of fun. Car thankfully started and we made our way home.

Friday, E went to go to work, and the car wouldn't start again. Downstairs neighbor wasn't home, so he decided to work from home, until he could get another jump and then drive down to an autoparts store and buy a new battery. Jump was gotten, then we went to the store and proceeded to have fun getting the battery, getting the old one out, the new one in, and putting the second CA plate on the car. After that we went to In N Out burger, and went home. A couple hours later we made our way to the dojo.

We got to the dojo too early and E took part in the jiu jitsu class. The sensei is a tough old man, and decided to see what E was made of. Around seven the class, minus myself watching and E, went for their prayers. It was the first time I had heard a Muslim prayer and I was pleased to be able to listen.

The rest of the evening was E taking part in classes and me watching and finally coming home.

Saturday was more classes - aikido and sword. Then we went to the local mall and walked around and around and finally settled to eat at PF Changs.

Sunday we went to pick up Mikey and hang out. This was full of awesome, because we talked for a long time, briefly saw Candy, Ryan, and Val, and then went to the Cladaugh for beer and some "snacks". On the way to taking Mikey home we stopped at Walmart so I could get my pokemans and then ended up hanging out at Mikey's place. E geeked at Mikey for a bit about martial arts and then Mikey told him that he couldn't just talk about it. Poor Mikey, he had no idea what he was asking out of E. He wanted to spar and he got more than he bargained for. It was a lot like watching an older cat with a new puppy. Puppy wanted to play a lot and Kitty just decided to let him and be patient. I don't think I've laughed so hard in a long time.

So we had two days of dojo and two days of hanging out and lots of fun. I ended up going to bed feeling weird last night, I think it was me not wanting to go to bed and miss out on more awesome.

I have to say, I adore the people at the dojo. The sensei is more than happy to answer questions and some of the other students are chatty and friendly. I really enjoy watching and interacting with the people there, we'll see where it goes. It also helps E a lot, because I see the stress just kind of disappear while he's there. The Muslim sensei worked him hard, while Sensei Mike tends to be a little more mindful of technique and the give and take relationship of sparring. It's been a learning experience for all that we've only gone three times. It's made me start looking at things differently and I'm enjoying that.

There's a few people that I really wish I could do something for right now, but I'm kind of just stepping back and watching for the moment. I know there are problems in certain lives that I don't know if I should step forward and say something. It's also hard to know in text whether someone is just bitching or if maybe there is a true complaint and they really need help. I figure that if someone really needs me, they'll reach out and tell me. I have to trust that the people that I care about know it and that I don't want to stick my nose where it doesn't belong, 'cause it has very nearly been a casualty in the past couple of weeks and I'm feeling rather unsure of myself at the moment. So if I don't comment on something, it's not because I don't care, but because I don't want to bother anyone.
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So the past week has been spectacular on the craptastic. That being said, I want to focus on the awesome.

Sunday was Stitches West. Went with Sue and had a blast. There was a ton of yarn and proto-yarn fondling. Sue got away with a fantastic stash, while I kept my booty at four skeins, one of which yelled at me to take it home at the beginning of the event, and left with me at the end (oh lord, you strange teal/black skein of kitten yarn).

I should also add that there was some fantastic food involved that day (starting a day with mimosas is always good), and then excellent hang out.

We got a new dishwasher this week. Our maintenance guy is awesome. Very willing to answer questions, even while working. He's very thorough and pretty damned prompt. He's the type that will give you an estimated time and if he can't make it or doesn't have a specific part, he'll call and let you know the new estimated time. I'm impressed, but then again, the maintenance for this place should be spectacular for the price of rent (no, you really don't want to know).

This weekend looks rather busy, starting tomorrow night - when our friend Tony comes into the area for an interview, then Friday is the DMV (this time I'm bringing a book, knitting, and a picnic basket, because I have never in all my days seen a DMV so filled with people). Saturday morning we're going to the North Bay to check out the dojo that one of E's co-workers studies at. I think the rest of the weekend is free, but Saturday is going to be an early morning (into early afternoon), so that day might be shot a bit. Sunday is open at the moment, but it might be a flop and stare into space day.

Just getting one gripe out - Jesus, why did you give me crazy hormones? I feel like a walking ball of grump right now and I feel as though the people around me should have force fields or some shit to keep the emo off them. I hope this goes away a bit before tomorrow, or I just may be a major downer.
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Today sucks. Fuck everything.
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So my parents called this morning. One of the two cats I bottle fed and took care of from 2.2 weeks old (Chloe) is dying of cancer. They found a mass in her sinuses and were unable to get all of it because it had already started to spread. She has weeks or months, because you know what an exact science cancer is.

Yeah, it's just a cat. But she was my cat, even though I left her with my family, because I knew that was the best thing to do for her, when I decided to move. I probably won't ever get to see her again, hear her purr, or pet her pretty black fur.

But she's home, she's where she is most comfortable. She's not in horrible pain now, because she can breathe. They'll let me know when the time comes.

Goddamn, why does it have to hurt so much?
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I read The Time Traveler's Wife awhile ago. While I enjoyed the story, I had some issues with the author's writing style. It's not something I would have recommended to conservative person or an older person, because I felt that the author used the f-bomb a little too often for my tastes, but that's beside the point.

The story was beautiful and I had been wanting to see the movie for awhile. E hasn't really been interested in watching it, and I can't say I really blame him. So I've been putting it on hold for a good long time.

Well E has the blorch. Got sick out of no where this morning and is currently in bed, sleeping the sleep of the just and the nyquil induced. I'm still awake, so I go to see what's on our on demand premium channel free movie list.

There it was. Figured, why not? It's not too long and I can sit and watch it while I do other stuff.

The movie barely touches on what the book told us. It's like taking some of the high points, and I guess, if you haven't read the book, it is very good. I really enjoyed it and it did something I haven't experienced in a good long time.

I cried. Even though they changed the ending - I cried. The book's ending would have made me sob, so I'm a little glad they didn't end it the same way, but at the same time, I loved the book's ending. It was a good ending, it tied what the movie told you together beautifully, but it was so different. It was a Hollywood ending.

I haven't cried at a movie in a long time. The last scene in a movie that was supposed to make me cry didn't. I felt that feeling I get in my tummy that happens just before the tears start, but they never came. This time I felt my eyes fill up and my vision blur, and honestly, I enjoyed it.

The movie was worth it.
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Part of growing up (no matter what age you are) is realizing that if someone is fucking up their lives and refuse to see it, and there isn't a fucking thing I can do about it. I hate doing that, but when it comes down to whether I'm hurting myself emotionally for someone that couldn't give a fuck less about their own lives or the damage their doing to themselves, I'm only hurting me - not them. They'll never recognize that someone is giving a shit and trying actively to help, because they are so far down the spiral that all they can see is themselves.

People that care are just obstacles, at that point, in their continued destruction of themselves. They will trample, say hurtful things, and ignore the person that would give so much of themselves to help them. I'm sick of being trampled, ignored, or getting a verbal lashing when I've tried to help someone. I'm even more sick of the worry or time I've invested in people that couldn't give a fuck less. I wasted my own time and it's just burnt me enough that I don't want to deal with it anymore. And it's my own sanity at risk, and frankly someone else's destruction of themselves is not worth my sanity.

There are a lot of things I see wrong with a few people that just keep bashing their heads into the same damned concrete wall. Then they turn to the people around them and wonder aloud at the fucking headache they have, that they can't seem to understand where it came from. Pointing out that they've been bashing their head into a concrete wall that they refuse to see, but go back to time and time again, is like trying to revive roadkill that's bloated and crawling with maggots.

This also goes with negativity. Some people honestly thrive off of it, which is completely beyond me. It becomes an emotional drag when people can only complain about how their ex completely fucked up their lives and what a lousy, horrible person that man/woman is. Time to move forward. I hear it too often, and now I realize how E felt hearing about my ex-roommate. Lesson learned, if it bothers me to hear someone else bitch, then I should put my money where my mouth is and stop doing it myself. Can't lead by example, but I can sure as hell try to change the things in myself that drive me absolutely batshit in someone else.

So yeah, I've gotten to the point that I can't give a fuck about people that refuse to help themselves. I can't coddle or attempt to help someone that just doesn't give a fuck about themselves. I don't want relationships with them, and I'll probably distance myself friendship-wise with them. I'll stick around, but for the most part they will be given a label in my head that says, "How not to live." I won't thank them for the stupidity, but I guess I can thank them for the object lesson - because it means that I don't have to live it.

I'd write some kind of disclaimer here, about feelings of other people and shit, but I feel as though that would be pointing fingers. This is really just a post to recognize my own intolerance to bullshit. I want to live a life that is as close to free of bullshit and drama as I can get. If that means taking a step back and going, I don't want this, I see nothing wrong with that. I'm taking care of me for once, and I think that's the best thing I can do. Maybe it will make me a better person, maybe it won't. But it will mean less stress, less hamster wheel of doom, and more content and happiness in my daily life. It will mean no more hours spent worrying about someone that I can't do a fucking thing for, and those are precious hours of my life that I can spend doing things that add to my life, rather than subtracting from my sanity. Maybe I'm emotionally evolving, or maybe there is a part of my mind that has just finally grown up.

Amended: One thing I remember reading that made an impression on my life and is currently resurfacing is about friendship. Someone who takes your time and never gives back, isn't truly a friend. A person that shares your time is a friend, but the person that gives their time is to be cherished. I like getting back at least the sharing, but the giving usually results in a wonderful friendship that time and distance can't erase. I'm glad I've been able to experience both the sharing and giving, but I'm too tired to have people only take and never return at this point in my life.

The actual quote: "There are many who would take my time. I shun them. There are some who share my time. I am entertained by them. There are precious few who contribute to my time. I cherish them."

Amended again: I realize I have no to blame but myself for my current feelings. The people that disappoint me did not go out of their way to disappoint me. They don't even know they disappointed me, probably never will. I tend to forget and try to play the fairness game, but life isn't fair and people are rarely fair. I guess I just have to watch out for myself and damn the consequences otherwise. After all, when it comes down to it, I'm only responsible for me.
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Been here a week. It's been a quiet week, a pretty good week. Still getting used to what there is around town.

Soleil and her SO picked us up at the airport and brought us up to San Ramon. We did a couple of much needed Target runs - realizing there were numerous essentials that we were lacking. Sometime after that Candy, Ryan, and Babby showed up, with a surprise Sue in tow! Much hugging was had, more essentials were offered (thank you to both Candy and Sue for thinking ahead and being so awesome!). We had crazy pizza from a local place. Girls hung out in the mostly empty living room, while boys grunted and huffed at futon.

It rained most of last weekend, but Monday showed up sunny and breezy. It got warmer during the week, but if we ever got much past 70 degrees we were doing good. Funny to see the locals all bundled up while I'm wearing a t-shirt. I guess I'll get there in time.

This weekend will have another trip down to Casa de Garlic. We'll have time for cooking, geeking, and just generally enjoying each others company. Monday should see the arrival of our stuff (YAY!). And then next week will be a lot of unpacking. I look forward to having my yarn back, even though I brought some with me.
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  • Find a new apartment
  • Throw out stuff we don't need (donate or actually throw out).
  • Figure out the best way to get the cats to our destination.
  • See my family and whatever friends I can in a weekends time (oh best of luck to me, but hell, I'll be back up MA way again, it's not like CA is Mars!).
  • Get a one way ticket to CA (lolwhat, never expected to say that).
  • Get all my doctor stuff on this coast taken care of.
  • Figure out some kind of get together for the people I care about here (hoping that at least two people can be civil).
  • Clean up this apartment completely.
  • Clean and go through old clothes - donate, resurrect, and/or fold.

    Yup, a month. It seems like a lot of time and not enough all at once. So many thoughts on the future of what I'd like to do and so on.

    March 2012 is come back to PA for Jen's wedding.

    Potential future plans for FF considering that is close to where my family lives, so making a pilgrimage to CT and then jaunting up to MA isn't so bad. Need to get my butt down to FL again.

    Other than that, start helping other people plan trips to the left coast to hang out. And get used to the chill atmosphere of the East Bay area. This is going to be a grand adventure. Right now I'm focusing on being excited, not scared. :D
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One of my favorite baby sitting charges passed away last night after an almost 4 year battle with thyroid/lung cancer. Her body just finally gave out. I'm glad she's beyond the pain now, 'cause I wouldn't wish that on any 16 year old.

She was an amazing person, a fighter, cared so much for her family and friends, which is why I think the battle lasted four years. She touched a lot of lives - many over the internet with the Harry Potter Alliance and NerdFighters. She had an infectious smile and a lot of love. She left an awesome family behind for the rest of us to care for.

I think of the firefly in the Princess and the Frog, that we have another star in the sky watching over us. I'll never forget her, even though my memories of her are more from when she was a toddler than anything else. I'm so grateful that her parents decided to do a caringbridge journal for her and we were able to stay up to date and send messages to the entire family.

It makes me sad to know she's gone. I wish her family strength and have sent them my love. I don't know if I'll be able to go to the funeral, as it is Sunday, and about 5 hours away. I'd really like to attempt to go.

It makes me realize that I want to work harder to be a more positive person, to be more awesome, to not be rude or intolerant, but to try to share the love and joy that I produce and that has been shared freely with me. I want to pass those feelings forward, not only to people I know, but to the people out there I don't know. I know that negativity is rarely productive and just forces misery outward, so in Esther's honor, I'll try to be more positive and to help others when I can in that sense.

Remember, if a sixteen year old girl ravaged with cancer could still feel love and joy, and share them freely, do you really have an excuse to be angry and bitter?

Rest in Awesome, Esther. You will not be forgotten! <3
transient_orange: (Cowthulhu)
Or what I'm calling the current state of things.

On Aug. 19th I'll be making my way out to California for a visit - and potential apartment hunting. E will be out there for a couple days before that and I'll be joining him for the weekend. I'm hoping that by the time we're on the flight back we'll have a better idea whether we'll be moving to California this fall.

I'm excited, terrified, and nervous. I'm really glad that I'm able to go out to visit before the final decision is made - it would have been really strange to move to a place that I had only been once - 6 years ago. I know the weather is nice, and E tells me the area is beautiful. We'll have friends nearby and be closer to the ocean than we currently are. California actually has some lakes that you can actually swim in, which PA really doesn't have. It will take time to get used to earthquakes, the lack of thunderstorms, and I'm sure other things, but in the long run, it would be a most excellent adventure.

I'm refusing to get nervous about moving until we really know that it is happening - hence why it is possible impending DOOM. We'll see how things go and hope for the best.

I've been super lucky to have a couple of super supportive friends that are making the hamster wheel of stress a little less stressful and a bit more fun.

I'm going to screen comments, so people can comment freely. <3
transient_orange: (Default)
I've noticed that most of the population enjoys being cryptic. Honestly, people being cryptic drives me batshit and I honestly think it would just be easier if the person would just tell me what the hell is actually going on. But that would be the actions of a perfect world. Because of this, I have decided from here on out, when someone posts something cryptic on LJ or Facebook that I'm going to make my own story up based on the very little information that I'm given. I may even ask the person later about the alien abduction of their grandmother or how many years their 3 year old has to do in the detention center for mugging someone with a deadly weapon.

I'm telling you this as a warning. You give me something cryptic, I'm going to run with it. It's not my fault your guinea pig died of Tourette's.

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