Keru!
It's Sunday, and I'm working in the office, doing nothing. I'm doodling myself as a chibi, because I'm bored.
Might start actually doing work on Propeller Hats...or not.
I was talking to Whitney earlier, and I never know if I cross boundaries or not. Even an e-glomp and my confession that I needed liquid courage (AKA coffee) to type that seemed to send her skittering for the hills. Or wherever it is she goes to hide.
It's Now Monday!
I don't want to make a habit of leaving drafts unfinished, but that's what I did. Sadness.
It is now 7:45 AM, and I am on the clock for another 9 hours and 15 minutes. Yippee!
John is buying me a bacon/egg/cheese biscuit for breakfast. He rolled up to the gate and was like: ...What're you eating for breakfast?
Me: Uhhh...cereal. And a banana. I guess. -takes drink from a water bottle full of milk-
Him: ....Don't eat it.
Me: -raises eyebrow- ?
Him: I'll bring you back a bacon/egg/cheese sammich from when I'm done dealing with George and talkin' to him.
Bossman may be a creeper, but he's a genuinely nice guy, and he's always been willing to work with me and accommodate my schedule/needs.
And he gave me a job back after my back surgery xD
Last night I was pondering life - at 1:30 AM. Which was incredibly foolish, since I had to be at work at 7.
Poor life choices indeed.
I seem to habitually fall into the pattern of driving myself into the ground. I know that working a ten hour day on four hours of sleep is downright stupid. But I went ahead and stayed up anyways. I always know the repercussions, but there's just this element of self-torture that I bring into everything, and it's kind of scary.
I don't know why I insist upon pushing my boundaries like that. I don't particularly want to snap again. So why am I pushing and pushing, only stopping when I break?
Such questions.
Well, Bossman brought my breakfast. With potato bite things!
Yay!
I'm going to go eat it, and perhaps write some stuff to my story, instead of languishing in my exhaustion.
I love you ever so much, and hope you're doing well!
-Roo
Monday, September 10, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2012
Letter Five
Dearest Keru,
it seems I've been found out! (Or have I? I have no idea!) Ah, well. That's fine. I'll still continue writing as if you don't know xD
Today is the year anniversary of my granddad's death. I didn't spend the day incredibly upset, or weepy, or particularly depressed. I actually slept quite a lot, and Agent Coulson kept me company :3
My granddad was an amazing part of my life, and a wonderful man. But he was in so, so much pain before he passed away. I can only be happy that he's in a better place now, if there is such a thing. I can believe in an afterlife if only for a wonderful place for him to spend his time nowadays working on cloud-cars and wearing his Jesus hats.
It really has taken me the entire year to work through this grief and move to acceptance.
I use that, even though the context is different. I send him love and light when I think of him, then I drop it. I don't dwell, I don't let myself become depressed. I think of his voice and a happy memory, and keep living.
I don't need to spend another three months mired in depression and god knows what else. It's okay.
Agent Coulson helped me today. He came and curled up on my lap and we took a nap together.
It was lovely.
Hope you're doing well, and acclimating well to China!
Love,
Roo
it seems I've been found out! (Or have I? I have no idea!) Ah, well. That's fine. I'll still continue writing as if you don't know xD
Today is the year anniversary of my granddad's death. I didn't spend the day incredibly upset, or weepy, or particularly depressed. I actually slept quite a lot, and Agent Coulson kept me company :3
My granddad was an amazing part of my life, and a wonderful man. But he was in so, so much pain before he passed away. I can only be happy that he's in a better place now, if there is such a thing. I can believe in an afterlife if only for a wonderful place for him to spend his time nowadays working on cloud-cars and wearing his Jesus hats.
It really has taken me the entire year to work through this grief and move to acceptance.
I use that, even though the context is different. I send him love and light when I think of him, then I drop it. I don't dwell, I don't let myself become depressed. I think of his voice and a happy memory, and keep living.
I don't need to spend another three months mired in depression and god knows what else. It's okay.
Agent Coulson helped me today. He came and curled up on my lap and we took a nap together.
It was lovely.
Hope you're doing well, and acclimating well to China!
Love,
Roo
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Letter Four
Dear Keru,
Thank goodness you had the sense not to come back to North Fork. I may be a tad touched in the head, for continuing to work here. Its eccentricities lend it character, but it almost isn't enough to put up with the grievances I accumulate for the place on a daily basis.
-----Some Time Later-------
I was a tad bit bitter earlier, as it was the beginning of my shift. I got off at 11 last night, and had to come back in at 7 AM. It was not pleasant.
Little UK is a seriously sweet kitten. On the floor, he's skittish and runs under the glass cabinet (where he's safe from Oreo's murderous wrath), but in your arms he's putty. He's so incredibly tolerant, and will let you do just about anything with him (touch his paws, play with his tell, roll him over and rub his tummy). So very much unlike Oreo.
Oreo is very upset at this new addition to our household. Cocoa (the older cat) doesn't put up with his nonsense, and Cricket is mostly 'HI CAT HI PLAY OH GOD YOU HIT ME WHYYYY PLAY HI CAT HI'
Oreo isn't very tolerant of Cricket either.
Last night, Oreo stalked into the living room, where I was sitting in one of the chairs with the kitten on my stomach. He was sleeping, I was half asleep, and he was sprawled out and happy. Oreo walks up until he's a foot and a half away, and he hisses, twice. Then he whips around and stalks off. Cricket 'smiled' at him, wagged his tail. Oreo goes ROWWR and beats Cricket upside the head. BAP-BAP!
Cricket was so confused. Oreo growled and walked out of the living room, and then he lay down in a really weird spot, just so he could watch.
Bitter, bitter cat. He's always been an old fogey, though. Silly Oreo.
UK may be dubbed Sora, at some point. Grandma didn't really object, and I don't want to run the risk of her using her suggested nickname of 'Ucky'. Sora certainly isn't British, or HP, but I enjoy it. Kris wouldn't allow me to name him Albus and have us all doomed for his straying to power hungry younger years, then developing into a kindly older cat in his old age.
Nor am I allowed to name him Neville. I wanted to name him Remus (a most ironic name for a cat) or Sirius, but I was denied. Kris acquiesced to Severus, but I don't see UK as a Sev. Maybe Sev, but not Severus.
I SHALL NAME HIM ADRIAN PUCEY.
God, no.
I hope things are going well, and that you're enjoying class. I must admit, it's tempting to send you this blog address, and let you read along. But that's not the point! This will be an interesting surprise (I hope) come December. Look! A Christmas present of 10,000k+ word count proportions!
Anyways. I'm happy to be signing off on a good note in this little letter. Yay for kittens!
I love you!
-Roo
Thank goodness you had the sense not to come back to North Fork. I may be a tad touched in the head, for continuing to work here. Its eccentricities lend it character, but it almost isn't enough to put up with the grievances I accumulate for the place on a daily basis.
-----Some Time Later-------
I was a tad bit bitter earlier, as it was the beginning of my shift. I got off at 11 last night, and had to come back in at 7 AM. It was not pleasant.
Little UK is a seriously sweet kitten. On the floor, he's skittish and runs under the glass cabinet (where he's safe from Oreo's murderous wrath), but in your arms he's putty. He's so incredibly tolerant, and will let you do just about anything with him (touch his paws, play with his tell, roll him over and rub his tummy). So very much unlike Oreo.
Oreo is very upset at this new addition to our household. Cocoa (the older cat) doesn't put up with his nonsense, and Cricket is mostly 'HI CAT HI PLAY OH GOD YOU HIT ME WHYYYY PLAY HI CAT HI'
Oreo isn't very tolerant of Cricket either.
Last night, Oreo stalked into the living room, where I was sitting in one of the chairs with the kitten on my stomach. He was sleeping, I was half asleep, and he was sprawled out and happy. Oreo walks up until he's a foot and a half away, and he hisses, twice. Then he whips around and stalks off. Cricket 'smiled' at him, wagged his tail. Oreo goes ROWWR and beats Cricket upside the head. BAP-BAP!
Cricket was so confused. Oreo growled and walked out of the living room, and then he lay down in a really weird spot, just so he could watch.
Bitter, bitter cat. He's always been an old fogey, though. Silly Oreo.
UK may be dubbed Sora, at some point. Grandma didn't really object, and I don't want to run the risk of her using her suggested nickname of 'Ucky'. Sora certainly isn't British, or HP, but I enjoy it. Kris wouldn't allow me to name him Albus and have us all doomed for his straying to power hungry younger years, then developing into a kindly older cat in his old age.
Nor am I allowed to name him Neville. I wanted to name him Remus (a most ironic name for a cat) or Sirius, but I was denied. Kris acquiesced to Severus, but I don't see UK as a Sev. Maybe Sev, but not Severus.
I SHALL NAME HIM ADRIAN PUCEY.
God, no.
I hope things are going well, and that you're enjoying class. I must admit, it's tempting to send you this blog address, and let you read along. But that's not the point! This will be an interesting surprise (I hope) come December. Look! A Christmas present of 10,000k+ word count proportions!
Anyways. I'm happy to be signing off on a good note in this little letter. Yay for kittens!
I love you!
-Roo
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Letter Three
Dear Keru,
I have talked to you since writing Letters One and Two, and it's good to know that the Internet easily bridges an 11,000 mile gap.
I officially dropped that ASL class at LFCC. It made me feel something of a liberated failure. An incredibly awkward feeling, to be sure.
I could never tell you where my problems came from. It would be easy to blame everything on my mother (though I'd wager 85% is legitimately her fault), but I know in a lot of cases, I've done it to myself.
I am a self fulfilling prophecy of self hatred. It's never a good place to be. I look back, and feel bad, because it never seemed like we talked about your problems. Yes, you would get frustrated with your parents. We'd sit in the church parking lot with our Wendy's and draw crabs on my windshield and rail at the world.
But I've never had a gauge on your feelings, save for that one day in the cemetery when we had that picnic. I mourn this fact, I mourn that I am a selfish creature, in need of constant attention and reassurances, that I could never be the friend you may have needed, if I'd only stopped whinging long enough to listen.
I can also rejoice, in that you're somewhere far, far away from your parents. Your mother will undoubtedly email you nonsensical things, but you now have a distance between you, an entire ocean or four that will give you the space to continue to thrive, beyond what you've done at L-burg.
You are wonderful, my dear sister. Wonderful in that you stood up for yourself, pressed for this trip despite your parents' obvious misgivings that one night I came over for dinner.
You are brave and courageous, with enough gumption (funny word :] ) to hop on a plane and fly straight out of your comfort zone and into full immersion in another culture with a semester or two of Mandarin under your belt.
I love you for it, my dearest Keru.
If my friendship with you has taught me nothing else, it's that love and personal connections can last through even the roughest of situations. The fact that you sign off with 'I love you' when we stop chatting makes me feel so damned happy. To know that no matter how long it's been, or how much distance separates us, you still care, and always make an effort to see how I'm doing, it truly means everything.
Well, that was a tl;dr of magical proportions.
In other news, UK is freaking adorable. I'm still hoping to keep him. It's far harder to ignore a kitten as opposed to guinea pigs. Here's to hoping that I will be a good mom to him, and that he doesn't get roughed up too much by Oreo and Cricket.
I believe you are right, he is decidedly British. His name will pop up out of the ether, and surprise us all. Although it appears that Neville has been decidedly vetoed. Someday, I'm getting a cat, and naming him that.
With love,
Roo
I have talked to you since writing Letters One and Two, and it's good to know that the Internet easily bridges an 11,000 mile gap.
I officially dropped that ASL class at LFCC. It made me feel something of a liberated failure. An incredibly awkward feeling, to be sure.
I could never tell you where my problems came from. It would be easy to blame everything on my mother (though I'd wager 85% is legitimately her fault), but I know in a lot of cases, I've done it to myself.
I am a self fulfilling prophecy of self hatred. It's never a good place to be. I look back, and feel bad, because it never seemed like we talked about your problems. Yes, you would get frustrated with your parents. We'd sit in the church parking lot with our Wendy's and draw crabs on my windshield and rail at the world.
But I've never had a gauge on your feelings, save for that one day in the cemetery when we had that picnic. I mourn this fact, I mourn that I am a selfish creature, in need of constant attention and reassurances, that I could never be the friend you may have needed, if I'd only stopped whinging long enough to listen.
I can also rejoice, in that you're somewhere far, far away from your parents. Your mother will undoubtedly email you nonsensical things, but you now have a distance between you, an entire ocean or four that will give you the space to continue to thrive, beyond what you've done at L-burg.
You are wonderful, my dear sister. Wonderful in that you stood up for yourself, pressed for this trip despite your parents' obvious misgivings that one night I came over for dinner.
You are brave and courageous, with enough gumption (funny word :] ) to hop on a plane and fly straight out of your comfort zone and into full immersion in another culture with a semester or two of Mandarin under your belt.
I love you for it, my dearest Keru.
If my friendship with you has taught me nothing else, it's that love and personal connections can last through even the roughest of situations. The fact that you sign off with 'I love you' when we stop chatting makes me feel so damned happy. To know that no matter how long it's been, or how much distance separates us, you still care, and always make an effort to see how I'm doing, it truly means everything.
Well, that was a tl;dr of magical proportions.
In other news, UK is freaking adorable. I'm still hoping to keep him. It's far harder to ignore a kitten as opposed to guinea pigs. Here's to hoping that I will be a good mom to him, and that he doesn't get roughed up too much by Oreo and Cricket.
I believe you are right, he is decidedly British. His name will pop up out of the ether, and surprise us all. Although it appears that Neville has been decidedly vetoed. Someday, I'm getting a cat, and naming him that.
With love,
Roo
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Letter Two
My dearest Keru,
You have probably arrived in China by now. It's been 24 hours; I sure as heck hope you've arrived safe and sound.
I've been pondering life, and your adventure, and my main conclusion is that you'll be back, with a world of experiences under your fashionable belt and a wicked Mandarin vocabulary.
No one is losing you forever :)
Today, I skipped my ASL class, which I still intend to drop, and attended Kris' back to school night. The assembly speeches smacked of Christian superiority, but left me yearning for something more. If I ever get Sunday time, I might go to the Unitarian Universalist church by LFCC. Maybe some sense of community will bolster my spirits.
Kris definitely falls into the category of 'Poor Life Choices', but I still love the jerk. We were really in sync tonight, and had a lot of fun joking around and uniting against mom.
This weekend promises to be completely horrid. I hope yours is better, and full of excitement and recuperation from any and all jet lag.
I love you!
-Roo
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Letter One
To my dearest Keru
Today, you embarked on a journey that will last four months, somewhere around over one hundred days, and is 11,000 miles away. By my calculations, you're roughly thirteen and a half hours into your flight, if you left at 12.
I'm glad I got to spend Tuesday with you, and that I woke up enough this morning (technically yesterday morning) to text you goodbye. Your farewell text is locked in my phone, and shall remain there for the foreseeable future.
I've been thinking quite a bit ( an occasionally dangerous practice for me), and I ultimately decided to boot up the Letters to Keru blog.
When I went to college for my freshman year, I was always wonderfully surprised by letters that you took the time to write and mail to me. I was troubled while at college, but that's no excuse for neglecting writing you back, like I properly should have.
Since we went off to college, you and I have slowly drifted apart in many ways. You have flourished at your college (I mean look at you, you're almost to China!) and as a young woman, and I am so proud of you as a friend, and as your sister. I have stagnated and struggled, but am getting there.
Our high school years were amazing, and I could never regret being joined with you at the hip for those two wonderful years. I can regret us not getting together more, but that happens, right?
What really makes up for our separation over the semesters is that as soon as we are back together again, even for a couple of hours, we're very much on the same wavelength. Finishing each other's thoughts and sentences like we used to, grinning at something we both saw on the Internet, and swapping secret smiles when your grandmother pulls out a Reader's Digest from seemingly nowhere.
No matter what distance has separated us, or the amount of time, you have always been my amazingly, fantastically loving, supportive sister. You never hesitate to give me advice, to try and help me find my way, and I love you so damned much for it.
So here is what I am proposing.
I will write you a letter a day, a week, whatever I can manage. You may be 11,000 miles away, but that doesn't mean you're gone forever! When you come back, I will link you to these letters, or print them out, or whatever. There will be no obligation to read them, but I will be thinking of you, just as you thought of me when I went away to college for the first time.
No matter where I'm at in four months, no matter where you're at in four months, we will always be sisters. Always an email away, always a hug at the end of a visit or a 1 AM trip to IHOP.
I love you!
-Roo
Today, you embarked on a journey that will last four months, somewhere around over one hundred days, and is 11,000 miles away. By my calculations, you're roughly thirteen and a half hours into your flight, if you left at 12.
I'm glad I got to spend Tuesday with you, and that I woke up enough this morning (technically yesterday morning) to text you goodbye. Your farewell text is locked in my phone, and shall remain there for the foreseeable future.
I've been thinking quite a bit ( an occasionally dangerous practice for me), and I ultimately decided to boot up the Letters to Keru blog.
When I went to college for my freshman year, I was always wonderfully surprised by letters that you took the time to write and mail to me. I was troubled while at college, but that's no excuse for neglecting writing you back, like I properly should have.
Since we went off to college, you and I have slowly drifted apart in many ways. You have flourished at your college (I mean look at you, you're almost to China!) and as a young woman, and I am so proud of you as a friend, and as your sister. I have stagnated and struggled, but am getting there.
Our high school years were amazing, and I could never regret being joined with you at the hip for those two wonderful years. I can regret us not getting together more, but that happens, right?
What really makes up for our separation over the semesters is that as soon as we are back together again, even for a couple of hours, we're very much on the same wavelength. Finishing each other's thoughts and sentences like we used to, grinning at something we both saw on the Internet, and swapping secret smiles when your grandmother pulls out a Reader's Digest from seemingly nowhere.
No matter what distance has separated us, or the amount of time, you have always been my amazingly, fantastically loving, supportive sister. You never hesitate to give me advice, to try and help me find my way, and I love you so damned much for it.
So here is what I am proposing.
I will write you a letter a day, a week, whatever I can manage. You may be 11,000 miles away, but that doesn't mean you're gone forever! When you come back, I will link you to these letters, or print them out, or whatever. There will be no obligation to read them, but I will be thinking of you, just as you thought of me when I went away to college for the first time.
No matter where I'm at in four months, no matter where you're at in four months, we will always be sisters. Always an email away, always a hug at the end of a visit or a 1 AM trip to IHOP.
I love you!
-Roo
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