Archive | November, 2007

Top 5 strangest days of my young life

30 Nov

Yeah, you read the subject line. I’m not lying. Today has been going on forever, about 23 waking hours now. And what a twisted, hallarious, tragic day it’s been.

A few highlights:
1) in the middle of chanting hebrew while burrying my grandma at the funeral, my kindergarden cousin tugs on my sleeve and asks me : ” is that spanish?!!!” I laughed out loud, nobody heard her say anything except me, so then im the weirdo cackleing at her grandmothers grave. But oh no, that didn’t seem strange at all relitive to the entire day, just a funny ancedote…
2)Eulogy deliveries. Classic. Everyone who gave one delivered them precisley in tuune with their character, which is so abnormal, which made the service great because everyone was just themselves. My brothers euology was delivered like a sienfeld sitcom and the audience was heaving with laughter, mine was completly unplanned andimproved when i got to the podium, my uncle’s was a list of reasons why he’ll miss his mother more than anyone else, one aunts was so bitter i could taste it, the other aunt delivered it in a raspy, jazzy voice and wrote it like a radio biography ( which makes sence because shes in radio, kindof), my mom’s was efficient and sweet, and my dads tied them all together and was the real honest one which make you laugh,cry and reach a new profound understanding of my grandmas character.
3)my lil cousin went ballistic at the funeral because she didn’t understand death until today, and then she still didn’t fully get it, and seing her cry and scream was the saddest thing, ever, ever.
4)sat between 2 large men who woludn’t let me get out of the middle airplane seat to pee all flight today

5)most importantly, spending time with fam leads to some interesting discussions and a found out some interesting things….
LIKE A SUPER-STAR NBA PLAYER ( i will leave unnamed ) IS ( 90% sure) THE FATHER OF MY LIL COUSIN!
That expalins so much. Like why she’s so tall for a 5 year old. The story is unreal.

yeah, all things considered im getting up and doing all of it again tomorrow so i just gotta ridethe wave. and ill end with that.

Top 5 strangest days of my young life

30 Nov

Yeah, you read the subject line. I’m not lying. Today has been going on forever, about 23 waking hours now. And what a twisted, hallarious, tragic day it’s been.

A few highlights:
1) in the middle of chanting hebrew while burrying my grandma at the funeral, my kindergarden cousin tugs on my sleeve and asks me : ” is that spanish?!!!” I laughed out loud, nobody heard her say anything except me, so then im the weirdo cackleing at her grandmothers grave. But oh no, that didn’t seem strange at all relitive to the entire day, just a funny ancedote…
2)Eulogy deliveries. Classic. Everyone who gave one delivered them precisley in tuune with their character, which is so abnormal, which made the service great because everyone was just themselves. My brothers euology was delivered like a sienfeld sitcom and the audience was heaving with laughter, mine was completly unplanned andimproved when i got to the podium, my uncle’s was a list of reasons why he’ll miss his mother more than anyone else, one aunts was so bitter i could taste it, the other aunt delivered it in a raspy, jazzy voice and wrote it like a radio biography ( which makes sence because shes in radio, kindof), my mom’s was efficient and sweet, and my dads tied them all together and was the real honest one which make you laugh,cry and reach a new profound understanding of my grandmas character.
3)my lil cousin went ballistic at the funeral because she didn’t understand death until today, and then she still didn’t fully get it, and seing her cry and scream was the saddest thing, ever, ever.
4)sat between 2 large men who woludn’t let me get out of the middle airplane seat to pee all flight today

5)most importantly, spending time with fam leads to some interesting discussions and a found out some interesting things….
LIKE A SUPER-STAR NBA PLAYER ( i will leave unnamed ) IS ( 90% sure) THE FATHER OF MY LIL COUSIN!
That expalins so much. Like why she’s so tall for a 5 year old. The story is unreal.

yeah, all things considered im getting up and doing all of it again tomorrow so i just gotta ridethe wave. and ill end with that.

bad class aftertaste

29 Nov

Today, my substitute teacher suggested that feminism is a form of colonialism. I know. He said this at 11 am and i am still trying to unravel this mess, and i think it may help to do it on ‘paper.’

To start. He must have meant imperialism, not colonialism. True western feminism is often applied to make arguments and add to the discourse about women in eastern cultures, and double true, the american politics co-opts western feminism to use it as a means and justification for the nessesity of invading the middle east.Which pisses me the fuck off, by the way, for reasons i may or may not get into later. BUT because feminism is a tool of the nation, not the nation itself, it can’t be a colonizer, but rather an agent of colonization, or a type of imperialism.Okay, so where am I at now…

He must have meant: western feminism is a type of imperialism.

Problem. I really detest all ‘feminism is’ or ‘feminists are’ statements. Western feminism is soo fragmented now with hundreds of sects ( ex. backlash feminism, ecofeminism, mens feminism, black feminism, post-feminism feminism, liberal feminism, and the list goes on and on), so unless the word following “feminism is” is “equality”, good lucking finding a vague common uniter for all those different ideaologies. ” A type of imperialism” sure as hell doesn’t fit for all of those types, not even the majority. So the sub used a blanket statement when he shouldn’t have. The other bone I have to pick with his phrasing is that he said “western feminism **IS** colonialism ( meaning a type of imperialism i guess).” He didn’t say was, or acts like, or a method of, he said IS. Alright, so lemme take a step back. What it means to ‘be’ something in the current tense. Who is Emily? Emily is a compilation of past experiances, thoughts and behaviors manifesting themselves into a susinct personhood, a steady pattern of inward thoughts and behaviors. To ask the same question of feminism, what is feminism, it is so not accurate to call it as you see it in the present without taking into account it’s past. American Feminism has it’s roots in anything but imperialism. So much so, i fact, that after the first wave ( mostly sufferage) and then the second wave ( upward mobility and personal status laws for upper-middle class white women) there was a HUGE response in the discourse about how feminism doesn’t adequately address the needs of poor women, minority women, and women abroad. My question is, was that discourse echoing the sentiments of poor/colored/foreign women, or was it a white woman’s observation of white women’s activity and decided that if it worked so well for them, they should share the freedoms(?) with all other women. Maybe this is the glitch where the current third wave of feminism on surface is percieved as imperialism–does it make a difference in labels of imperialist vs non imperialist if ‘imperialist-esque’ actions were asked for by the marginalized group or not if those actions are still happening? I don’t know. Maybe?

So are specific actions of western feminism imperialist when the western female agenda and ideals are projected and used as ameasuring stick onto non western womens status, and then our military occupies their country, and when ask why they say weapons of mass destruction but then they’re wrong, and so when asked why again, they call their good freinds at CNN and Fox and tell them to reinforce the images of the middle eastern or eastern people as somehow barbaric, archaic, uncivilized, with scewed morals and sex drives, and then people wont ask as much why we’re there because theyll think we’re there to liberate them and they wont ask as much about oil,haliburton,and stratigic preemptive miliatry bases set up permantly by china/india/russia.

ive got you pegged bush. checkmate

oh god, im getting on a plane in a few hours. goodnight

bad class aftertaste

28 Nov

Today, my substitute teacher suggested that feminism is a form of colonialism. I know. He said this at 11 am and i am still trying to unravel this mess, and i think it may help to do it on ‘paper.’

To start. He must have meant imperialism, not colonialism. True western feminism is often applied to make arguments and add to the discourse about women in eastern cultures, and double true, the american politics co-opts western feminism to use it as a means and justification for the nessesity of invading the middle east.Which pisses me the fuck off, by the way, for reasons i may or may not get into later. BUT because feminism is a tool of the nation, not the nation itself, it can’t be a colonizer, but rather an agent of colonization, or a type of imperialism.Okay, so where am I at now…

He must have meant: western feminism is a type of imperialism.

Problem. I really detest all ‘feminism is’ or ‘feminists are’ statements. Western feminism is soo fragmented now with hundreds of sects ( ex. backlash feminism, ecofeminism, mens feminism, black feminism, post-feminism feminism, liberal feminism, and the list goes on and on), so unless the word following “feminism is” is “equality”, good lucking finding a vague common uniter for all those different ideaologies. ” A type of imperialism” sure as hell doesn’t fit for all of those types, not even the majority. So the sub used a blanket statement when he shouldn’t have. The other bone I have to pick with his phrasing is that he said “western feminism **IS** colonialism ( meaning a type of imperialism i guess).” He didn’t say was, or acts like, or a method of, he said IS. Alright, so lemme take a step back. What it means to ‘be’ something in the current tense. Who is Emily? Emily is a compilation of past experiances, thoughts and behaviors manifesting themselves into a susinct personhood, a steady pattern of inward thoughts and behaviors. To ask the same question of feminism, what is feminism, it is so not accurate to call it as you see it in the present without taking into account it’s past. American Feminism has it’s roots in anything but imperialism. So much so, i fact, that after the first wave ( mostly sufferage) and then the second wave ( upward mobility and personal status laws for upper-middle class white women) there was a HUGE response in the discourse about how feminism doesn’t adequately address the needs of poor women, minority women, and women abroad. My question is, was that discourse echoing the sentiments of poor/colored/foreign women, or was it a white woman’s observation of white women’s activity and decided that if it worked so well for them, they should share the freedoms(?) with all other women. Maybe this is the glitch where the current third wave of feminism on surface is percieved as imperialism–does it make a difference in labels of imperialist vs non imperialist if ‘imperialist-esque’ actions were asked for by the marginalized group or not if those actions are still happening? I don’t know. Maybe?

So are specific actions of western feminism imperialist when the western female agenda and ideals are projected and used as ameasuring stick onto non western womens status, and then our military occupies their country, and when ask why they say weapons of mass destruction but then they’re wrong, and so when asked why again, they call their good freinds at CNN and Fox and tell them to reinforce the images of the middle eastern or eastern people as somehow barbaric, archaic, uncivilized, with scewed morals and sex drives, and then people wont ask as much why we’re there because theyll think we’re there to liberate them and they wont ask as much about oil,haliburton,and stratigic preemptive miliatry bases set up permantly by china/india/russia.

ive got you pegged bush. checkmate

oh god, im getting on a plane in a few hours. goodnight

The Childhood Myth

27 Nov

Childhood. The childhood myth should not be underestimated. One could argue that the desire to endulge one’s child in the American childhood fantasy is what drives our commercial/commodity economy and motivates people to be upwardly mobile; everybody wants to see the gleem in their childs eye when they see the piles of presents under the hannukah bush and provide their kids with everything that they didn’t have themselves as a child. People factor the possibility of children into their lives even before the children enter themselves. I’ve seen a handful of people inclined towards teaching or social work skirt away from their dreams “because a social workers salary would never put a kid through college.” And suburbia, ohh good ole suberbia, to me it looks like cul-de-sacs with alarm systems and fenced off houses in homogenous communities is a fear response to all of those percieved lurking dangers waiting to ‘Elizabeth Smart’ their kids or just straight up abduct/hurt them while they innocently tricycle around the block. People try so fucking hard to protect their children, but after all is said and done, do the children themselves really experiance the carefree extacy and elation depicted in the Kodak and Coca-Cola ads? Is childhood just a myth created by adults projecting their desires of a billess/taxless/mariageless existance onto their kids, but that experiance is really unauthentic to the kids themselves?

Are adults just big kids who want to be hugged and act on their impulses but are to socialized to indulge in any of that? And where does that put adolescense?

I started thinking about all of this crap this past weekend when i was engulfed by senile people and their adult children. These Adults, 50, 60, year old adults, regressed back into kids with their parents on the deathbed. And the dying folk, the regressed back into babies. I think I had to assume a more mature role because i was less attachted than a child of the sickly but attached enough as a grandaughter to definitly want whats best, so i chit chatted with the doctors about medicine dosages, etc. Adults are just big kids. Grandparents are just big babies. And Adolescents are _____. I don’t know. Still trying to peice that one together. We just are.

The Childhood Myth

26 Nov

Childhood. The childhood myth should not be underestimated. One could argue that the desire to endulge one’s child in the American childhood fantasy is what drives our commercial/commodity economy and motivates people to be upwardly mobile; everybody wants to see the gleem in their childs eye when they see the piles of presents under the hannukah bush and provide their kids with everything that they didn’t have themselves as a child. People factor the possibility of children into their lives even before the children enter themselves. I’ve seen a handful of people inclined towards teaching or social work skirt away from their dreams “because a social workers salary would never put a kid through college.” And suburbia, ohh good ole suberbia, to me it looks like cul-de-sacs with alarm systems and fenced off houses in homogenous communities is a fear response to all of those percieved lurking dangers waiting to ‘Elizabeth Smart’ their kids or just straight up abduct/hurt them while they innocently tricycle around the block. People try so fucking hard to protect their children, but after all is said and done, do the children themselves really experiance the carefree extacy and elation depicted in the Kodak and Coca-Cola ads? Is childhood just a myth created by adults projecting their desires of a billess/taxless/mariageless existance onto their kids, but that experiance is really unauthentic to the kids themselves?

Are adults just big kids who want to be hugged and act on their impulses but are to socialized to indulge in any of that? And where does that put adolescense?

I started thinking about all of this crap this past weekend when i was engulfed by senile people and their adult children. These Adults, 50, 60, year old adults, regressed back into kids with their parents on the deathbed. And the dying folk, the regressed back into babies. I think I had to assume a more mature role because i was less attachted than a child of the sickly but attached enough as a grandaughter to definitly want whats best, so i chit chatted with the doctors about medicine dosages, etc. Adults are just big kids. Grandparents are just big babies. And Adolescents are _____. I don’t know. Still trying to peice that one together. We just are.

confessions of a nerd

25 Nov

I’m a nerd, given. But I’m probably even more of a nerd than most people think.

Example. When things get a little rocky, as this past weekend has been, I pour myself into absurd intellectual pursuits. For instance, yesterday i somehow spend 3 hours on Powells.com, scrounging through every section of the alleged ‘city of books’ until i found 13 that i want the most, and put them on a wishlist of things i need to read someday.Useless? yeah, pretty much–I can’t even get through my assigned reading for school, pleasure reading shouldn’t exactly fall on the top of my priority list. And the random task for today? Learning everything I can about the leading secret societies of western europe and america, the conspiracy theories about them, and if in fact their elite are plotting for a globalized facist state or New World Order. And then brushing up on the vietnam war. I swear to god, i learned almost nothing from formalized education from grades 1 -12 and almost everything from being stuck at home and an angsty teenager and having historychannel.com be some sort of cyber-sanctuary where i could just distract myself with really interesting history. Good to know the technique still works.

confessions of a nerd

24 Nov

I’m a nerd, given. But I’m probably even more of a nerd than most people think.

Example. When things get a little rocky, as this past weekend has been, I pour myself into absurd intellectual pursuits. For instance, yesterday i somehow spend 3 hours on Powells.com, scrounging through every section of the alleged ‘city of books’ until i found 13 that i want the most, and put them on a wishlist of things i need to read someday.Useless? yeah, pretty much–I can’t even get through my assigned reading for school, pleasure reading shouldn’t exactly fall on the top of my priority list. And the random task for today? Learning everything I can about the leading secret societies of western europe and america, the conspiracy theories about them, and if in fact their elite are plotting for a globalized facist state or New World Order. And then brushing up on the vietnam war. I swear to god, i learned almost nothing from formalized education from grades 1 -12 and almost everything from being stuck at home and an angsty teenager and having historychannel.com be some sort of cyber-sanctuary where i could just distract myself with really interesting history. Good to know the technique still works.

Any Final Words?

24 Nov

My grandma said two things today, which is two more than yesterday so I’m happy i got to hear her voice for (maybe) the last time. But what she said is just…so her. So pittifully her.

The context: Grandma is concked out in the hospice bed, with myself, my mom, dad, two aunts, uncle and baby cousin( her great grandaughter) standing around her bed. Suddenly, she starts to get restless and opens her eyes. She glances around the room with these vacant, empty eyes, and her gaze settles on my uncle sitting next to her who is holding her hand. This is her eldest son who flew all the way from flordia yesterday to see her, whose brain didn’t recieve enough oxygen at birth causing severe social impairment and he still managed to go to USC grad school, who you talk to like he’s 10 but is more intelligent than I’ll ever be, who all in all is a gentle giant. Her final/only words to her son: ” You need to lose some weight.” Typical, typical. Even on her death bed she maintains her controlling and vain ways, and in a weird way, that makes me smile.Not too sure I can say the same for my uncle, but I have no remorse because he’s been alive long enough to know that everyone’s body is subject to critique and criticism at any family gathering and/or meal. I’m not condoning it whatsoever, it bothers the hell out of me and i just keep my mouth shut, but im just saying I will so not be surprised if those are her final words to her son. She’s never had a social-filter and just says whatever the fuck she thinks. It’s actually endearing, unless of course you are the victim of her judgements over something you can’t change about yourself. I have no idea where she got these conceptions of what the ‘ideal’ boy/man and girl/woman are, but she belived in them so strongly. Any deviation is a weakness in character. I was too athletic and thus not feminine enough and shouldn’t be going to usc if ” i actually want an education”, one aunt was too much of a pushover and the other too much of a rebel, and everyone but my mom and I are “too fat.”In my grandma’s eyes, my mom ( her daughter in law) is perfect and she calls her the daughter she never had…in front of her other two daughters. She likes dogs, art, jewelry, shopping, and is social, she is a petite lady with blonde hair and blue eyes and an ex-sorority girl/cheerleader who was raised with missourian values and a plesant midwestern diposition. My mom and I are obviously pretty different people. She says im not adopted. I’ll believe her, for now.

The other thing my grandma told me today was”India.” The question was ” where is your favorite place in the world you visited. Was it India?” … is that cheating?

Any Final Words?

23 Nov

My grandma said two things today, which is two more than yesterday so I’m happy i got to hear her voice for (maybe) the last time. But what she said is just…so her. So pittifully her.

The context: Grandma is concked out in the hospice bed, with myself, my mom, dad, two aunts, uncle and baby cousin( her great grandaughter) standing around her bed. Suddenly, she starts to get restless and opens her eyes. She glances around the room with these vacant, empty eyes, and her gaze settles on my uncle sitting next to her who is holding her hand. This is her eldest son who flew all the way from flordia yesterday to see her, whose brain didn’t recieve enough oxygen at birth causing severe social impairment and he still managed to go to USC grad school, who you talk to like he’s 10 but is more intelligent than I’ll ever be, who all in all is a gentle giant. Her final/only words to her son: ” You need to lose some weight.” Typical, typical. Even on her death bed she maintains her controlling and vain ways, and in a weird way, that makes me smile.Not too sure I can say the same for my uncle, but I have no remorse because he’s been alive long enough to know that everyone’s body is subject to critique and criticism at any family gathering and/or meal. I’m not condoning it whatsoever, it bothers the hell out of me and i just keep my mouth shut, but im just saying I will so not be surprised if those are her final words to her son. She’s never had a social-filter and just says whatever the fuck she thinks. It’s actually endearing, unless of course you are the victim of her judgements over something you can’t change about yourself. I have no idea where she got these conceptions of what the ‘ideal’ boy/man and girl/woman are, but she belived in them so strongly. Any deviation is a weakness in character. I was too athletic and thus not feminine enough and shouldn’t be going to usc if ” i actually want an education”, one aunt was too much of a pushover and the other too much of a rebel, and everyone but my mom and I are “too fat.”In my grandma’s eyes, my mom ( her daughter in law) is perfect and she calls her the daughter she never had…in front of her other two daughters. She likes dogs, art, jewelry, shopping, and is social, she is a petite lady with blonde hair and blue eyes and an ex-sorority girl/cheerleader who was raised with missourian values and a plesant midwestern diposition. My mom and I are obviously pretty different people. She says im not adopted. I’ll believe her, for now.

The other thing my grandma told me today was”India.” The question was ” where is your favorite place in the world you visited. Was it India?” … is that cheating?

mental age/chronological age x 100 = IQ

23 Nov

The day is over.

Whew.

I am Thankful that this day is over.

I am a mess. But a smiling mess. I want to scream but it comes out as a laugh, and i want to articulate a thought but it comes out scambled. I’m hyper and tired. I’m going fucking insane. The first half of my day was spent in the Hospice, which by the way are much more peaceful than hospitals. I think i’d want to die in a hospice too…except that i’d want to die doing something really cool and outrageous, like go out in some epic teacher-on-the-spaceship-style. Whatever, hopefully that’s not something i have to deal with for a long, long time… but spending thanksgiving watching my grandma cuddle with death more closely with every breath has just been one hell of an emotional and intelletucal rollar coster. It’s bizarre to see the Matriarch of my family cycle back to the helplessness of an infant, curled up in fetal position, unable to speak or, well, do anything really. I’m glad I emergency flew home so i could get in some last words and quality time with her. Funny story. My Aunt, who is now a ‘Jew for Jesus’, rolled my grandma in to a christian service today when my dad left…my grandma is jewish, like jewish-jewish…and the hearing is the last thing to go…so some of the final words on this earth she will have heard are about Jesus. I think it’s kinda funny and ironic.

So one may assume that leaving the hospice would have been somewhat relaxing and relieving…wrong, dead wrong. One would obviously not be familiar with my extended family. Where to begin, so much material…Mmm, let me put it like this: we are one, big, handicapped family. There were 10 people, including myself, at our house for dinner. Of those 10, 2 are young people in wheelchairs, 1 is deaf, 2 are morbidly obeese, 2 have serious mental disorders, 6 are on welfare, and we have 3 races and a handful of religions represented. And we are all related. Like aunts,uncle,cousins, immidiate family related. None of us fit in with eachother, and in that way we all fit in as a cohesive group of outsiders who are related… i guess that’s the beauty of it. And in a very selfish way, having so much controversy in one family has made it really hard for me to judge anyone for anything, like..anything. We’re all people. I’m not saying i promote those behaviors, but they are behaviors, not definitions of people.

So Yeah, I’m fucking happy this day is over. Because i get to wake up and do it all again tomorrow. Back to the hospice. happy thanksgiving.

mental age/chronological age x 100 = IQ

22 Nov

The day is over.

Whew.

I am Thankful that this day is over.

I am a mess. But a smiling mess. I want to scream but it comes out as a laugh, and i want to articulate a thought but it comes out scambled. I’m hyper and tired. I’m going fucking insane. The first half of my day was spent in the Hospice, which by the way are much more peaceful than hospitals. I think i’d want to die in a hospice too…except that i’d want to die doing something really cool and outrageous, like go out in some epic teacher-on-the-spaceship-style. Whatever, hopefully that’s not something i have to deal with for a long, long time… but spending thanksgiving watching my grandma cuddle with death more closely with every breath has just been one hell of an emotional and intelletucal rollar coster. It’s bizarre to see the Matriarch of my family cycle back to the helplessness of an infant, curled up in fetal position, unable to speak or, well, do anything really. I’m glad I emergency flew home so i could get in some last words and quality time with her. Funny story. My Aunt, who is now a ‘Jew for Jesus’, rolled my grandma in to a christian service today when my dad left…my grandma is jewish, like jewish-jewish…and the hearing is the last thing to go…so some of the final words on this earth she will have heard are about Jesus. I think it’s kinda funny and ironic.

So one may assume that leaving the hospice would have been somewhat relaxing and relieving…wrong, dead wrong. One would obviously not be familiar with my extended family. Where to begin, so much material…Mmm, let me put it like this: we are one, big, handicapped family. There were 10 people, including myself, at our house for dinner. Of those 10, 2 are young people in wheelchairs, 1 is deaf, 2 are morbidly obeese, 2 have serious mental disorders, 6 are on welfare, and we have 3 races and a handful of religions represented. And we are all related. Like aunts,uncle,cousins, immidiate family related. None of us fit in with eachother, and in that way we all fit in as a cohesive group of outsiders who are related… i guess that’s the beauty of it. And in a very selfish way, having so much controversy in one family has made it really hard for me to judge anyone for anything, like..anything. We’re all people. I’m not saying i promote those behaviors, but they are behaviors, not definitions of people.

So Yeah, I’m fucking happy this day is over. Because i get to wake up and do it all again tomorrow. Back to the hospice. happy thanksgiving.

life slide show

21 Nov





















These people/places/sitations/memories mean a lot to me, and make me laugh. holler.

life slide show

21 Nov





















These people/places/sitations/memories mean a lot to me, and make me laugh. holler.

Euthanize THIS

21 Nov

Tangibility. Does it matter?

If I’m thinking really hard about Wyclef Jean vs Tupac Shakur, is the first more real than the latter just because he is physically alive? I’m not convinced that distinction makes a difference. They’re both just as real/unreal as Martin Luther King JR or Alexander the Great or Jesus or Mr. Rogers. So if people that I don’t see regularly, or at all, are nothing but a mental schema of who i concieve them to be, with behaviors and attidues I can predict and translate to abstract situations, then if they’re physically alive is not a factor. I guess that would be the egocentric argument: things only actively exist in relation to their impact and acknowledgment by me. I’m not confidant in that, I don’t really want to think like that. I guess there are 3 ways i can see this: People only exist/have existed in their relation to 1) Me 2) Other people, history, society at large or 3) a persons existance is concrete and doesn’t need the validation of others to be real.

But when people to you aren’t alive anymore, there is one big, looming problem. I can’t ask dead people anything. Like, ‘hey grandma, tell me what it was like to get divorced with 3 kids in the 1950’s’, or ‘ grandma, does our family have a history of heart disease?’ or ‘ what was i like as a chlid?’ But then again, memory is so…subjective, and maniputaled by emotions, perception and some chunks are filled in and others are blocked out, and frankly, it’s not that reliable…particularly in old folk. So when a grandparent dies, what is it that we miss? Their advise? We can imagine what they’d say.Their role as the leading family historian? Maybe, but they’re not acurate half the time. Do selfish reasons that make death of a grandparent so sad? That now we are the second leading generation, instead of the third, in the family tree, and that it scary? The fact that our genes are blood are suseptible to death too? The reality check of seeing your parents break down into irrational tears, stumbling off the pedestol of adulthood they once gloated from?

Today was the troy camp thanksgiving festival and earlier smash and even earlier the psyc midterm and finally timb. and i threw a quazi-impromptu appartment social. I felt disturbingly happy all day, nice and dazed and distracted before i have to fly home for the funeral tomorrow. Woops, today, its 4 am.

I’ve thought so much these past few days my head hurts. But i’ve also been quazi-euphoric. I guess my conclusion for the past few days was that I have to live large or go home, no regrets and throw down bets, ignore taboo and societal ques, just try and have as much fun as possible because life is here today and gone tomorrow.

Was this cheesy and cliche enough? Do i need to throw in more idioms or metaphors? I’ll leave ‘er be

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