Because it totally deserves a post all to itself!!!

Counting blessings

There are times that I wonder if my mind is even normal. And then there are times I know it's not. 

Like today.

My big 'thank you' to God today is that Justin is a boy and that I have no step-sisters.

Seriously?

Who is grateful for things like that?  Who actively thanks God that their brother is a brother? That he's healthy, yeah. That he's happy, no question. 

But that he's a he?

Weird.

I dunno. I was just having strange thoughts. Like, what if Dad had had a daughter when he and Mom got married? Well, not only would I not be his parents' only granddaughter, I also might have ended up being jealous of my stepsister. Who wants to be jealous of their stepsister?

And what if she'd been prettier than me? Or skinnier? I wouldn't have just been jealous, I may actually have needed up hating her!

I mean, really, who the heck thinks these kinds of what ifs?  I don't have a stepsister, so what's the point of worrying about how I might have hated her if I had one and she was prettier than me?

You see why I question whether or not my mind works normally.

The real truth is...

Wow, I haven't really updated much this month, have I?

Well, the honest truth is, I'm still rather down.  I know, it's been more than a month, and the funeral/memorial came and went.  But I still find myself bursting into tears at random moments when something, some little, inconsequential thing, triggers a memory.
Last Thursday, it was "Ain't She Sweet" on the radio (for those of you who don't get it, it's a song from the forties that we used to sing every time we had music therapy.  One of her favorite songs.).

I'm looking forward to Wednesday this week.  My dear, sweet soon-to-be sister has made an appointment to look at (and I assume, try on) bridesmaid dresses.  I've been looking forward to that news since April!

I went out with a new friend on Friday night, so I'm being sociable.  That news should come as something of a relief to those of you who think I'm becoming a hermit (you know who you are :-P).  We went and walked around Bayshore for a while.  Had some spirited conversation.

Dad helped me update (and upgrade) my resume.  That was fun.  I can now proudly tell all the prospective employers in the world that I am a published author.
That was one of the best feelings I've ever felt.

But right now, I'm coming off a fifteen hour shift (yikes, right?) and need some sleep.  The glamor of a job in "intensive customer service".

Dog days

All my problems would be solved if I would just stop letting the dog sleep on the bed with me...

• She's like a little furnace, so letting her sleep with me always means I'm too hot.  So then I throw the covers off and my arms, nose, and feet freeze (everything not covered by my nightgown).
• She's a very aggressive cuddler.  She situates herself so that she's pressed so tightly against my back or stomach that I inevitably roll away from her a little bit to try to get some room.  She then moves closer again.  And before you know it, I roll off the edge of the bed- asleep- and she looks down at me like 'why do you want to sleep down there?'
• She sheds everywhere.  I kid you not.  Every night before I let her up on the bed, I brush her out and then use the lint roller on her back.  And every morning, I've got a new carpet of shedded fur on the blankets.  Also the pillows.  And my clothes.  And my skin.  And sometimes, if I'm really unlucky, in my mouth.

So yes, all of my problems would be solved if I made her sleep on the floor like she does when I'm not the one watching her.
But then she looks at me with those eyes that ask 'don't you love me anymore?' and I cave.  I fold.  I invite her up onto the bed and give her a thorough petting to reassure her that yes, I still love her.

And they say cats are the manipulators!

Title Day!

I'm more comfortable with my mind in another world.
I've met people who think I get too into things like movies or books.  They label me as weird or nerdy.  They don't understand how my mind works.

For most people, for normal people, they watch a movie and it's a fun, temporary escape from reality.  Emphasis on temporary.  They read a book and are able to keep themselves mentally separated from the other worlds revealed in the pages.  Their "adventure" lasts from cover to cover.

For me, I watch a movie, and my mind is filled with the possibilities.  Like "what might happen if the characters did this and this as opposed to that?"  I wonder at their real motivations, especially if there is no discussion of why within the movie itself.  I read a book, and my mind gets to know that world as well as it knows this one.

I know my mind works differently from others.  Shoot, I see a story in everything I come across during a typical day.  A sunbeam through rainclouds turns into an introspective scene.  A Woman walking her dog becomes a "voice of reason" character within my narrative.  A book display at the store becomes a fun moment of interaction between protagonists.  There is literally a story everywhere.

So you know what?  Call me a nerd.  Call me weird, call me crazy.  I am unique, and God made me this way, so I must have stories worth telling.

Labels don't bother me anymore. :)