Post #315

You know, I used to be a rather avid journal-keeper. I kept a kind of diary in the sixth grade that I was quite ashamed of, since it was all personal and stuff, but when I started junior high, my English teachers all started requiring that we keep journals as writing exercises. So, from then on, I kept journals that wouldn't cause me to die of embarassement if somebody else found them, even after my teachers stopped requiring them. Ironically, it was the return of teachers requiring me to keep a journal for my Techniques classes that halted my journal-keeping. Stupid Techniques classes. "Today I practiced the flute. I nearly fainted twelve times. Then I really fainted and decided to give up for the day. Total time practiced: 7 minutes." But a short while after that, I got this blog, and not only have I been writing stuff that I wouldn't be embarassed if other people saw, I'm writing stuff _for_ those other people. Vultures! No, wait! Stay! Read! Comment! Validate my existence! ^_^ I must say, though, it seems kind of odd that I would be lessening the personal stuff that I put in my blog/journal/whatever as I get older. I mean, the damage has all ready been done. I have no chance of ever becoming an elected politician, what with the dirt I wrote on myself. When I was at the Capital Ex parade earlier this month, I was sitting by a woman who works for Rahim Jaffer, who was there with her granddaughter, who was about five. The girl was getting bored, and began pulling the cuff of her jeans over her knees so that the legs were kind of folded in half inside-out over themselves. Her grandmother told her to stop, and when the girl didn't want to, her grandmother told her that, what if she wanted to be Prime Miniser some day, and someone got a picture of her like that now? I assume she was kidding, though nothing in the way she spoke indicated as such. That poor girl's going to grow up to be even more paranoid than me. But, you'd think that, with the numerous pictures and written accounts of me doing far worse than than throughout my lifetime, that I would just figure to hell with it and write in my blog more often. Alas, I do not. Sorry, blog. I *hug* you, anyways.

Stupid Dying

I think this is a record for longest amount of time between posts for me--20 days. I apologize if anybody has been checking back a lot, waiting to see what my next words would be. Not that I believe in the slightest that somebody would do that.

I am feeling bummed. My grandmother had a heart attack on Saturday that ended her near-comatose state of Alzheimer's and replaced it with death. We saw it coming years away, but it's still very sad. The Alzheimer's made her all not there, the heart disease killed her, and the lung cancer was probably annoyed that it didn't grow fast enough to wreak its share of havoc. Also last weekend, my grandfather fell backwards twice when his knee gave out. We figure that the second fall is what caused the bleed in his brain that the doctors found when he was taken to the hospital, because if something else caused the bleed, then the stroke he had yesterday makes very little sense. I don't know how extensive the damage from the stroke is, but I don't think it'll wind up really mattering because my grandfather now has to have a tube down his throat so that he doesn't asperate saliva into his lungs, which I figure is a pretty good indication that his overall health is pretty crappy. My aunt is concerned that he didn't cry about my grandmother's death, but my mom thinks it just gave him permission to give up. Regardless as to pseudo-spiritual beliefs about the forces surrounding death, I am sad.

Today I must do laundry and pack, because there is now travelling to be done.

My Life Lately

This is an update, and may be regarded as official word on the status of one Janita Burgess.

I enjoyed immensely the time spent with people I don't see very often. The dinner at Peter's was quite fun, as was the rest of it. Peter got back from bowling/pool the day after the dinner only to find that his dad and Simone had finished cleaning up. Good lord. ^_^ Peter had even brought John over to help out. My dad didn't clean up after I cooked, though. Actually, that's a rather unpleasant story, so let's not go there.

I'm not working this week. Instead, I am experiencing strange sleeping patterns and re-reading the Harry Potter books in anticipation of the last one. I should also take the opportunity to go buy some Raisin Bran, as I am out of breakfast cereal.

My mom is in Calgary for some sort of parade that James is involved with. She'll be back tonight, but, in the mean time, I have been walking my dog and spending a fair amount of time alone. Farley is currently sleeping. I don't blame him. It's very warm out and his thick black fur is counting down the hours until it's cut on Monday.

I saw Ratatouille with Peter last night. It was really good. Peter adored it. ^_^ Then again, he said he was titilated by the sight of an animated poached scallop, so I think that his opinion can safely be considered unusual. ^_^ And apparently I have to brush up on my knife skills.

I think that's more or less all I have to say right now. I feel bad about neglecting my blog in favour of Facebook, but I figure this should hold me over for a while. :-)