innumerable-gibbons: too right.
Ok, not exactly starting where I left off, but here is a pic of when I was little- supposed to be Day 19, I think I got up to 15 but I couldn’t think of anything for the other days. Yep. Eating dirt, being naked. Some things just don’t change. 
I’ve been thinking about loss a lot recently, and why it happens, to who, and when. I wish I had an answer or an overwhelming faith that there was a reason behind it all, but I don’t really. Why friends just don’t wake up one day, why loved ones get ill, why we feel so deeply about something that will happen to all living things. About the fact that, if necessary, we can give the gift of death to furry friends but not our human ones. I suppose it is just that time of year, the bleary cold winter after the holidays. Four days before the 6th anniversary of losing a friend, four months after losing a (furry) family member.  Sometimes I like to think romantically about it all, cliche if you will. To quote Evita, and who wouldn’t want to quote something Madonna was in, “I could burn with the splendor of the brightest fire/or else I could chose time”   I guess it isn’t all that romantic when you consider that IRL Peron probably gave her HPV which lead to cervical cancer, but you get my awful cliched drift. Possibly the reason they die so soon is because they were just too wonderful to live. Other times I think it just isn’t fucking fair.  And maybe this rare blog post is just fueled by my 2.5 glasse of fake sangria ($3 day old wine +fresca) and maybe it is hormones and maybe it is the weather and maybe it is the fact that I had to write a businessy type letter and I hate those and needed to get something creative out.  I think I just need to get it out there, I’m not over it. I’m not over losing Erin. I’m not over losing Otis. Why those two? Why a friend from HS and why a dog? Because I think they left too soon. Maybe it is weird and awful to talk about losing a person and an animal in the same post. I don’t know if I even care. I’m sorry if that offends you (sort of). I just know that when I see a picture of either one of them I get a queer feeling deep down and if I’m alone tears in my eyes. 
Day 14 - A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without. This guy, not the dog. Josh. He makes me laugh, keeps me entertained, loves me unconditionally, takes care of me when I’m sick (like right now) and goes on adventures with me when we are well. Whats not to love?
Day 12 - A picture of something you love. I’m guessing everyone who is reading this knows I love knitting. It is relaxing, for the most part, It lets me feel creative and productive. AND I get to make cute things. What you might not know is I love pin up girls, I think they are sexy and sweet, and I love how most of them still have curves and embrace the feminine side without being docile. 
Day 11 - A picture of something you hate.    Second post for the day, since I’m a day behind. I hate broccoli, not with the burning passion that I used to have, but I still strongly dislike it. I’m now able to eat it if it is incorporated into something else, like casserole or some Indian dishes, but serve up a pile of steamed stinking broccoli and I won’t be eating it. I remember one night when my Dad cooked up hot wings and broccoli for dinner, and I almost got up from the table and left. (I also hate hot things, and only recently appreciate wings. I think I was also on one of my many failed attempts at vegetarianism.)
Day 10 - A picture of the person you do the most messed up things with. Yea, if you know these two, they were a clear winner. If you don’t- The fireman is Kelly, and the drunk drinking out of her nozzle is Sara. Sara and I have been getting into hijinks since high school, where her parents thought I was the bad influence, and mine thought she was the bad influence. We worked together at a children’s museum, don’t laugh, and they eventually had to stop scheduling us together cause we would scare our coworkers, and probably the children. Our parents they have since learned that it is just us together that is scary. Kelly really got into the hijinks after high school, she was “shy” in high school. That is not one of her attributes now. With them I can count on having a blast, and remembering at least part of it.
Day 09 - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most. I know I try to pretend that I’m not a cheese ball, but this would have to be my parents. Lets face it, they have gotten me through a lot. First there was birth, then there were those shady first 3 years where they say they were nice and awesome to me, but I can’t remember anything….and then pictures of me eating dirt turn up later. But overall I think I had a happy baby-hood. Then I got a couple siblings, and at first I thought that was great, then I hated it, and now most of the time I think that is pretty great. I also learned from them, from how to raise a puppy to how to mix the perfect gin and tonic. They got me through elementary, middle school (which is a pretty scary place), high school, and college. They made sure I had enough to eat, clothes to cover my back and managed to not let me turn into a spoiled brat. I owe my adventuresome nature to them, especially when it comes to food. I will try anything once, except for veal(that comes from my Mom, and driving past veal farms…ick….). They took me on great vacations to Hawaii, Jamaica, Florida, North Dakota, Michigan, Maine..etc. Ok. So those all sound like pretty fun things, right? Right. They also helped me through darker parts of my life, and I’m not just talking breakups. Senior year one of my close friends Erin died suddenly. Neither of them ever experienced the loss of a friend, but they did what they could, and then called people that had been in my situation and made me talk to them. The night before the funeral they let me and probably 10 girls camp out in our living room so we wouldn’t have to sleep alone. The put up with me crying for days, and when it had been long enough, they told me to get it back together but never forget. They still put up with my paniked phone calls early in the morning and listen to me freak out and give me solutions to my fears, whether rational or not.   I’m lucky, and I don’t know if many people out there are this lucky. (warning… cheesy moment coming….)  My parents are not only great parents, but I consider them wonderful friends. I don’t know what I would do without them, and I don’t want to find out for a long long long time. (If you are reading this ‘rents, I expect at least 90 years out of the both of ya’ll.)
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