So, we had a great Thanksgabing with my extended family and the Cemestos crowd (along with Eaves’ dad). We managed to score the basement of Bosphorus’s church, St. Josephs Stephen’s Episcopal Church here in town, with its bitchin kitchen, and Eaves, Mom, and Jen outdid themselves. Damn tasty food.
Thanks, ladies.
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I’ve come home angry, for no real reason at all. Everybody deals with this kind of stuff in their own way, I suppose, but I’m finding myself getting pissed off at people who are dealing with it in a way different than I am.
I’m sick of this. Its a sick joke, and I’m ready to have BJ back. Either that, or get in a fight. And then get BJ back.
Nothing will ever bring her back. I’m angry because I’m going to forget the details. I’m going to forget exactly what she looks like. Sure, we’ll see pictures, but pictures don’t show you the whole person. I’m going to forget what she sounds like. I’m going to forget her touch and her scent.
Dammit, that really pisses me off.
What the hell??
Not much to write about today, me and the boys are hanging out at the house, I’ve cleaned up the dump (not to BJ’s specifications, but since she’s not here, I can afford to slack a bit), and am loading up MP3s on the lappy.
Pigpen is trying desperately to convince MastaG that he is the good guy, and that G is the bad guy, so that Pigpen can unload the Nerf gun that G got yesterday at him. I might volunteer to be the bad guy, but that always ends up with me wrestling both the kids on BJs and my bed. Having a king sized bed is good for something, eh?
Anyway, here come the pictures:
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(Had to take the pics out due to farkination)
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Pigpen is now dead, evidently, and is instructing G that he isn’t allowed to shoot him when he’s dead. Not sure if the good guys or the bad guys won, but I’ll let you know.
So it occurred to me yesterday (in the bathroom, where I tend to have the majority of epiphanies) that there was a large mass of people who associated with BJ on a daily basis, that I didn’t know, and that didn’t know about her death…
So, I wrote up a little headline and submitted. I haven’t done that before, Fark was more of a BJ thing. I always liked computers, and I love building them and being geeky (I’m currently enjoying removing all the crappy bundled Dell stuff on the lappy, and adding in my totally awesome borrowed-from-a-guy-on-the-internet stuff). I like playing computer games, but that wasn’t what she was all about.
She’d get onto Fark every day, and spend as much time as she could. We’d only have two computers, a good one that can do all sorts of stuff, and a crappy one thats only good for using the internet. She liked to reserve the good one.
I’d bitch, occasionally, but mostly I just watched her do it. When I get involved in a game (like I did with Oblivion earlier in the year) I can easily spend 4 hours in front of that machine and not notice it. She’d sit quietly too, watching TV or something, and register the offense in a file in her head so that she could use it later. She was good at that.
So anyway, point is, I told the farkers, and they came by. Thanks folks. I don’t know how well you knew her, but I imagine she was as funny and smartassed there as she was here, and hopefully you got a peek at her talent and wit.
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Need to get up. I woke up *BING* wide awake at 4:30, finally decided to write the Fark thing, and then managed to sleep until about 10 minutes ago, which is totally sleeping in for me. The boys are awake, but being oddly quiet, which is wonderfully wrong, so I’ll have to figure out what they’re getting into.
Mom, Jen, and the cookers are coming up to start the turkey and whatnot for the massive THANKSGABING fest we’re having today for his birthday and Thanksgiving. After that, a day off for me (while they have to go home for my neices party), and then we’re all back here for a fun filled day of dead wifing.
Woot!
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I had a dream last night (in that period before 6 and 8) that my Dad perished in an elevator accident yesterday. Well, in true my dream fashion, I thought it was an accident, but then I discovered that masked guys (I’d say terrorists, but I think that means something else these days) held the 6 people on elevator hostage, but then killed them.