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Melissa
17 December 2007 @ 01:31 am


More here.
 
 
Melissa
It's gone from "less than five years" to "1-3 months" to "just a few days."

It's in the "all we can do is make him comfortable" stage.


I hope I never forget the sound of his voice. And how he always called me "Lightning," and how he punctuated his sentences with "babe." How he, for all the years I knew him, rarely addressed my granny as anything but "honey." I want to remember to good times, like when we were little and he and Granny used to take us to south Florida to go to the theme parks. And how he'd lay on the couch and shell and eat peanuts. How he used to always carry sugar free hard candy in his pocket -- you know, the kind that gave you diarrhea.

He was the one who taught me how to play blackjack, who made fun of me when I was five or six and we'd go fishing and I'd talk to the dead tree hulls, because I thought they looked like people. He was the one who bought me my blue and white Snoopy fishing rod and bragged to everyone that I could throw my line out farther than he could.

I remember his heart attack when I was a toddler. I remember his endless struggles with his back through the years and how he always remained cheerful and joked with us no matter how much pain he was in.

I remember the vibrant, inexplicable slate gray color of his hair that was always stiff as a board because of the vaseline-like goop he put in it. And his very blue eyes. Maybe that's where mine came from, though mine are a bit darker than his. I remember how he used to use Just For Men to dye his beard and mustache black (when he had a beard and mustache), because that was his natural hair color. I don't think I ever saw his hair anything but slate gray in my whole life, though.

I remember his ankle socks and his tennis shoes. His thin, cotton, button-down (usually the kind that snapped) shirts, often plaid, over the generic white t-shirt. Often paired with khaki cargo shorts.

I remember when I was in sixth grade and discovered that his name was actually Giovanni, rather than his nickname Buddy. I thought it was the most amazing, wonderful thing. I don't know why. I remember getting him to talk to me about his youth for a school project in high school. The streets of Pensacola as a child, grown-up life working on a shrimp boat to support a wife, three daughters, and a son.

I'll remember the last time I saw him, just a month or so ago, when we didn't know why he was feeling so ill. He looked miserable sitting on the porch, skin drooping from so much weight loss, but he did his damnedest to seem cheerful. I wish I could remember the last thing he said to me when he gave what is sure to be the final hug. I didn't think it was important to commit everything to memory. I was wrong.

And I need a hug now.
Tags:
 
 
Current Mood: depressedgrieving
Current Music: Counting Crows, "A Long December"
 
 
Melissa
03 December 2007 @ 01:28 pm
So, by saying that my grandfather's got less than five years left, they really meant "one to three months." My deddy was the one who called and told me, and he was all upset and crying (it's my mother's father who's dying, by the way). He and his side of the family are rather well suited for being the bearers of bad news.

He asked how much longer I have school. They're going to want me to go down there. Maybe I'm selfish or something, but I don't think I can take it. I'd rather remember him like he used to be.

I haven't been overwhelmingly upset about it because deep down I saw it coming.

I just worry about my granny.
 
 
Current Mood: sadsad
 
 
Melissa
30 November 2007 @ 12:02 am
We should go to Christmas on the River this year.

How about it?
 
 
Current Mood: contentcontent
Current Music: 80's music!!
 
 
Melissa
28 November 2007 @ 12:50 pm
I absolutely must teach myself how to knit, so I can make this. The women in my family crochet, they can't knit. Dur. Knitting looks really hard, though.

It would give me something to do with my hands (I'll give you something to do with your hands. Har har har.) while I watch Adam do stuff on the 360 in the evenings... instead of being weird and casting celebrities for the Half Life movie.
 
 
Current Mood: cheerfulcheerful
Current Music: Fall Out Boy, "I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers"
 
 
 
Melissa
21 November 2007 @ 10:53 am
Title of an email in my spam mailbox...

"Beat her womb with your new big rod, so that she knows who wears the pants!"

So many things wrong with that sentence. So many.



I plumb pissed off one of my Facebook friends yesterday, because they're intolerant of anybody who doesn't believe the same thing they do. There's a difference between the word "some" and the word "all." I do find some Christians to be stifling and hypocritical, but that doesn't mean there's not some who are pleasant company (for instance). Hell, any Christian who doesn't a) try to drag me to church, b) talk endlessly about the Bible in the sneaky attempt to convert me from my "heathenism", and c) do things more morally gray than I do is A-Ok in my book.

This, naturally, brings up this girl that I loathe. She constantly babbles about her church and whatnot, then she follows it up with talking about all the drinking and debauchery she plans to partake in after class.

And besides, my being an agnostic doesn't mean that I don't have morals. Sure, I have pre-marital sex, but I believe that the whole "wait till marriage for sex" was just an idea devised when there were no viable contraceptive options. That's just what I think. Do I think that other people should believe that? No. To be honest, actually, I think the 10 Commandments are handy and I try my best to follow them even though I'm not an active participant in the religion. I do what I can to help out people I meet, because that's what you're supposed to do no matter what you believe.

And really... I hate most atheists, too. I mean, it's easier to relax around them than many Christians, but they are some of the most smug people in existence. A lot of the time they have the same problem that their nemeses do -- the desire to tear down and convert. It reminds me of an episode of Scrubs where Perry does his damnedest to crush Laverne's faith.

I guess, in the long run, it's easiest to just say that I hate everyone so nobody gets offended.

If God controls the land and disease,
Keeps a watchful eye on me,
If he's really so damn mighty,
My problem is I can't see,

Well who would wanna be?
Who would wanna be such a control freak?
Who would wanna be?
Who would wanna be such a control freak?
 
 
Current Mood: awakeawake
Current Music: Modest Mouse, "Bukowski"
 
 
Melissa
I cannot find a Jackson Pollock painting I'm looking for, and it is driving me batshit insane. I know it was from the Life article profile on him in August of 1949, but the friggin' site will NOT let you search articles, just covers. They need to take a hint from Time and make their articles accessible so people like me won't become homicidal. Argh!

Otherwise, I've calmed down a lot since earlier. I'm still annoyed with my mama, but the kitty came and slept on my back for a long time while I poked around on the internet. I added lots of stuff I want to a gallery on allposters.com. And added a few art geek things to a wishlist on amazon... I even added an easel to the list. The light in this bedroom is good, and there's plenty of space in here. I should paint again.
 
 
Current Mood: optimisticoptimistic
Current Music: Fall Out Boy, "Homesick at Space Camp"
 
 
Melissa
29 October 2007 @ 04:13 pm
Few things put a smile on my face and a spring in my step like Death Threat Mondays.
 
 
Current Mood: amusedamused
 
 
Melissa
11 September 2007 @ 02:20 am
Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf is amazingly engaging, easy to understand, and beautiful in its own right. I am impressed. I've read the poem four times now, and this is the first translation that I've read that hasn't put me to sleep.

I should be sleeping, but shouldn't I always? It's almost funny how much my body mocks me; I spend the hours I must be awake teetering on the verge of tears from exhaustion, but when things settle down and my bed is waiting my thoughts run rampant, and I just cannot settle down long enough to doze. I did, however, chug most of a bottle of Bawls (which, for future reference, tastes horrid. It tastes like the carbonated water from soda fountains... with a rather liberal amount of vanilla extract poured in.) so perhaps that accounts for this inexplicable awakeness.

My hands are abnormally dry from the two hours I spend twice a week in the Engle Modeling Lab, where I take soft clumps of clay and do my damnedest to turn them into, well, body parts. We're working on duplicating noses at the moment. It's very challenging but soothing. I didn't take my ipod off the entire class period today (this is one of my favorite things to listen to while sculpting), and I secretly like how sometimes the clay residue sticks to my clothes. It makes me feel artistic, I suppose.

I'm considering going to Pensacola this weekend with my family, particularly if my grandmother's putting together a birthday party for my grandfather who turns.. 80(?) on Sunday. I've decided that I will definitely go if this is what's going to happen. I don't know how much longer he'll be around, and I certainly don't want to give myself something to regret in the future. On the down side, however, I've been in an astoundingly anti-social mood as of late. I don't especially want to be talked to or touched, which will present a bit of a problem when I go to Florida. The ironic thing, though, is the fact that I'm so lonely all the while.

It is unfortunate for Adam, who must endure my moods. Well, really, he's scarcely at home since grad school's got him tied up most of the time. He seems to be enjoying it immensely, however. Hrm.

I spent $81 on MAC the other night... and I don't really think I like several of the items I bought. What a pity. I bought a rather flamboyantly red lip gloss on a whim, but when I got it home I discovered that it looks bleh without the lip liner that matches.

I recently rediscovered this song. It is zomg awesome.

Oh, and apparently ex-roommate's ex-boyfriend has a spooge-in-panties fetish. Like, he wants to finish in some girl's undies and then have her wear it around all day. Because that's not a good way to get some kind of infection. Wow, as if I didn't already have low enough of an opinion of him and his creepy visage and pedophile tendencies.

The fact that I just stared off blankly for about two minutes means it's time to try that bed thing.
 
 
Current Mood: tiredtired
Current Music: Semisonic, "Secret Smile"
 
 
Melissa
10 August 2007 @ 02:36 pm
 
 
Current Mood: amusedamused