Thursday, December 30

"You enjoying your break yet?"

Pip asked me last night as he drove me home.
Interesting question. I think i said, "yea."
I don't think I'll enjoy my break until i make it productive...and i don't think i'll make my break productive until i start enjoying it. Fascinating, no? It's so strange when i corner myself into these limbos in which i seem to have no means of accomplishing's stopped depressing me as much as it used to, and is now just plain irritating. Andrew asks when i'll paint...well by all means, i could be doing it right now. Why don't i look into European art colleges? Why don't i start writing the stories buzzing in my head? Why don't i just lose 20 pounds? ( that last one may seem out of place to you, but it fits there. don't worry.)
Part of me can't decide whether i'm excited about my life ahead, or terrified of it. A common dilemma, i suppose...but that makes no difference when you're experiencing it.
I'm reading Fellowship of the Ring right now, and there's a song in it that Bilbo sings as he leaves the Shire to set out on his "last adventure". He sings it like this:

The road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the road has gone
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

A few chapters later (many years later in the book's timing), as Frodo sets out, he sings the same song...yet instead of using the word eager, he sings Pursuing it with weary feet.
Bilbo's version conveys a feeling of optomism, excitement, a readiness and willingness to take on what's coming with a spirit of joy. Yet with the difference of a single word, the whole verse is suddenly sad, heavy with apprehension and melancholy, even loneliness. When Pippin questions him about the change in wording, Frodo is not even sure why he chose to sing it that way. It was just how he felt. The difference between the two characters (Bilbo and Frodo) is so stark, it's amazing what a different air it gives to the tale.
I don't know, i guess i found it applicable to me. Because i tend to walk with feet that are already weary, when they should be eager. I wish they were eager, i with it wish all my heart. I feel it sometimes, a sort of an eagerness you could say. I just wonder why there is so much that terrifies me. There's so much that's happened in this past year that's made me question what i want from life. But what i want doesn't matter. And i'm saying that in the least bitter way possible. For what i want may be the last thing i i guess that works out alright.
It sure is a magnificent day outside.

Sunday, December 26

Just so y'all know...

I have a couple of new thingies in the 'n' music stuff.

Pip should be pleased to hear that i am officially "turned on" to Boards of Canada.

this morning

"Katri Seppanen, 27, of Helsinki, Finland, walked around barefoot, in her salt water-stained T-shirt and skirt, at the Patong Hospital waiting room where she spent the night with her mother and sister. She had a bandaged cut on her leg.

'The water went back, back, back, so far away, and everyone wondered what it was — a full moon or what? Then we saw the wave come, and we ran,' said a tearful Seppanen, who was on the popular Patong beach with her family. The wave washed over their heads and separated them."

Friday, December 24

Twas the night before Christmas...

and all down the hall,
grandpa's sneeze echoed,
a primal scream call.

Twas the night before Christmas...
and out in the kitchen,
mom's making cheesecake,
that's sure to be bitchin'.

Twas the night before Christmas...
and under the fake tree,
the Puppy leaves presents
for you and for me.

Twas the night before Christmas...
and there on my floor,
lay all of my gifts,
unwrapped by the door.

My grandparents nestled
all snug in their bed,
all bathed and all clean
for the long day ahead.

Grandma will dream
of cookies and flowers,
while Grandpa will dwell
on how much he hates showers.

Mom will continue
to slave through the night,
preparing the house
like a wee Christmas sprite.

Sarah sits bent
in her computer chair,
creating my gift
sure to give me a scare.

Twas the night before Christmas...
i stop and i ponder
the things in life of which
i hate, and grow fonder.

The love of my family
such security there,
and yet here is where i oft
feel most despair.

The bonding of friends
a warming embrace,
and yet they can give you
a slap in the face.

The outstretching future
so clear and so bright,
and yet all i see
is a dark endless night.

Twas the night before Christmas...
i tell my reflection,
you're part of a plan,
one which needs no projection.

You surely can't see all
or all purpose find,
pray for what ails you,
in body and mind.

Twas the night before Christmas...
retorting i say,
i cannot see 'fore me
and i cannot pray.

I abhor my blindness
i curse my weak will,
Forever i feel bound
to here suffer still.

Twas the night before Christmas...
a divine palm slapped me,
a Godly foot kicked me,
celestial hands grabbed me.

I can't rid myself
of what boils within,
i can't reach inside me
and tear out my sin.

I can't control people
i can't control she
i can control how
i let Him control me.

Twas the night before Christmas...
and i sit in shame,
how could i ever
have denied His name?

How many times
must i wander away,
and let him pick me up
and I'll finally stay?

Tomorrow i want
to think of Him solely,
as i sing as i speak
may he keep the day holy.

It's easy to become
a sad lonely person
who finds Christmas dismal,
and lets each year worsen.

Twas the night before Christmas...
a little more peaceful
a little more joyful
a little more grateful

I find my self feeling
and i say without spite,
Merry Christmas to all
and to all a good night.

love, colleen(:

Thursday, December 23

Friendship is such a strangely undefinable entity...
The thought is growing more and more in my mind that you can never know anyone completely. Even if you've stood by them since you were ten, even through mutual downfalls and picking each other back up again, even after seeming to share things only friends can share...
There sometimes come a point when you can look straight into her eyes and see someone you've never met, someone who doesn't want to know you, someone who thinks they know you and never really has...
someone who asks for help then denys it
someone who hears your words and discards them
flouts any responsibility
disregards your feelings
rejects God's hand
because as long as she's happy, why does it matter what happens to the hearts of those who love her? To those she claims to love? What kind of love is that, that demands i ignore the gnawing on my psyche and act as if all is well?
I asked what she would do if she found me in a situation dangerous to my spirit and my that i'd been in before, many times before, and had hardened my heart against truth...against those around me...against the Lord's will...
She said she's say how she felt and then support me and be my friend.
be my friend.
support me.
support me???
I don't want a friend who would do that. That's not love. That's not friendship. That's allowing someone to go ahead and drive a car with no brakes because you want to avoid argument. That's letting someone continue to shoot up because you don't want conflict.
That's ignoring something of eternal importance because you don't care enough to risk a little bit of your own skin.
I don't want a friend like that. no one needs a friend like that.
but that's the kind of friend she wants.
that's the kind of friend she is.
that's not the kind of friend i am.
and it's not that kind of friend i'll be.

i really can't do this anymore and i don't know what's going to happen. I can't say anything more than i've said, and i won't. it's not up to me; it's up to the Lord...and her.
in fact, in a way, it's all up to her.

all i can do is pray i'll be led the way chosen for me in this situation, and try to understand...
that sometimes being a friend means you can't be their friend...and everything in me hopes it doesn't come to that.

Sunday, December 19


i think ill move to arizona

Thursday, December 16 MY HOUR!!!

It's over.
I just got home from my last final...sweet relief!
I think i'm mostly excited to get back to doing all the things i personally enjoy...
reading long books
writing...lots of it. I'm going to try and write some scripts or screenplays or something.
i'd love to write some music...just trying to figure out how...
make pip a cd
learn how to use some editing software
bla bla...
oh, and i got return of the king EE on dvd yesterday.
You heard me! I got RETURN OF THE KING EE ON DVD YESTERDAY!!! It's like someone said "Congradulations on your hard work here's the best thing in the whole wide material world..." (well, not quite. but almost (;...)The temptation proved to hard to resist and my sister and i watched one of the numerous documentaries on the making of. It's awesome. She thinks i'm the biggest dork in the world but she enjoyed it thoroughly, of course. I also got (because it bought the collectors edition) a beautiful tiny replica of the Minas Tirith environment...and i sent in for the companion peice. A Minas Morgul environment.
I'm hopless.
But i have yet to watch the movie...i don't know what i'm waiting for. It's like when i saw the theatrical version for the first time...i almost didn't want to see it. I was so excited i knew how great the possibility of disappointment was...
or maybe i'm just sad that after i watch the EE of the movie there will be no more new LOTR movie perephenalia to gush over. But then again...i'd probably get sick of it at some point. too much of a good thing.
At least i'll always have the books to go back to...
go ahead, laugh! I'm not ashamed of my Tolkien nerddom. I was in love with the story before i even knew the movies were coming out. Thet're just the icing.
Okay, i've talked about this far too long. Maybe i'll go watch some of the movie now...
he he he. I'm so stoked, dude.

Wednesday, December 15

Monday, December 6

Oh, and by the way...just in case, perhaps you missed it...i'm a complete geek.

i"m Tried.

I have a humungous paper i should be typing...but i didn't want to leave that last post as the first thing people see here.
Ah, my grandfather. sweet guy.
It's been bitterly cold. At least, 50 degrees during the day is bitter for us spoilt Californians who are accustomed to waltzing around in our flip flops and tank shirts in the moddle of December.
I also can't type right now. I've had to correct nearly every word i've written so far.
I'm going to type the rest of this without correction. Just an experiment. Bear with me.
So my family and i are now the proud owners of...bum bum bum artificial cChristmas tree. When i faound ytout we were getting one, i put up quite a fuss. I admit it. For my entire life wwe've always had a real tree in opur homwe! But i fina,lly gave in and journeyed to Stats with mom and Sarah to buy our imitation tree.
Well, turns out we have a really gorgeous fake tree that we are free to pose however we please, and we don't have to worry abiut water, pine needles, the puppy tearing off branches...and now that mom and i have decorated it so lovellyly ( i did that on purpose), it really looks real! I just miss the smell.
Been practising for the show coming up on Friday...should be awesome. At Beantown...Sierra Madre...California...
You were lucky id idn't have a really bad typing night. it's been worse...muh worse.
The other night Pip and i went to trtader Joes to buy non alcoholic wine...much toi the amusement of the employees there. The checker said he didn't even know they sold it.
Needless to say it was awful stuff. Pip said it couls grow on him...whicjh would be nice considering htere's now a nearly full bottle of it in his fridge. Maybe his mom can use it in her cooking. She makes excellent Pumpkin cheezy herby soup. Actually, i hope she doesn't use it.
I shpould really go now. This was comletely worthless.
That's okay>. (:

Monday, November 29


Sunday, November 28

"It was by the Grace of God you didn't die last night."

Funny, how i knew something was wrong before i even opened the door.
Pip, Sarah and i got back from Amoeba last night and walked into the house to find my grandma hollering from her chair in the living room, and my mom and dad rushing back and forth. "He fell!!!! He-he-he's on the floor-oh, God, oh God...someone please get me up!!!!" my grandma was saying panicked and brokenly, trying miserably to push herself out of the chair, shaking and crying. "Mary Jane, you're not going anywhere," my dad came out and told her, "the last thing we need is you falling, too." My mom rushed out of the hall and passed us with a bloody towel in her hands. "He went right through the window," she said as she rushed by. "Could you guys get the dogs out of here??" my dad said to us. "Damn it damn it damn it!!!" my grandma shreiked.
This all happened within about 3 seconds.
Pip and Sarah went into the back of the house to pray as i ran around with my parents and my uncle (who was here visiting last night), trying to calm grandma down, get clean towels, and make room for the paramedics who were streaming throught the door. Huge men in fire uniforms crowded around my grandpa, who was sitting on a chair in the bathroom, my mom cradling his head in her arms, pressing a cloth to his temple. She was crying.
"was he aware when you found him?"
"do you have any neck pain?"
"did you get dizzy?"
"what were you doing when you fell?"
I went back to the living room. My grandma was standing up, supported by one of the paramedics. "I know him, and i need to be in there. They would not get me up! They don't care! I need to know! They just left me here, and did what they wanted to do. I have a right! They always do this! She's so authoratative. She never listens to me. I need to talk to his doctor. i hope they're taking him to huntington. They're taking him there, right? He was a doctor there, you know. A very good one. we know a lot of doctors there. It's where we always go. Oh, Colleen! will you get me over there?"
Keep in mind, that was the condensed version.
I told her NO! we're not dealing with you right now! Please sit down and be QUIET! Then my dad came out. Grandma continued to yell at me as i walked away. I went back to the bathroom as they took him out, his head wrapped up in gauze and a brace around his neck. As they cleared the doorway, i looked into the bathroom and saw the head-shaped hole in the middle of one of the panes of glass lining the wall, cracks going out on all sides, shards and blood smeared on the floor. I could hear my grandma and my dad hollering out in the living room. Grandpa was put onto a gurney. Grandma kept yelling inanely. They covered him with a tarp so he wouldn't get wet (it was raining), and rolled him into the entryway where Grandma was waiting, trembling, with her walker.
"You come home to me, okay?" She said weakly.
He paused for a moment, his bandaged head looking up at the ceiling,"What else can I do?" he said softly back to her.
My mom bent over him and said, "I just want you to know, I love you, dad." as she kissed his cheek.
And they rolled him out.
Dad and my uncle went behind them to the hospital.
My mom made my grandma dinner, and prepared plates to take to dad &c.
Imagine grandma's fury when she found out they weren't taking him to huntington.
"It's CLOSED, grandma. They're not accepting people!"
The yelling didn't stop. My grandma went on to accuse my mother of being nasty, authoritative, selfish...I won't even write about that. I yelled too. My grandma sobbed in my mom's arms by the end of it.
Mom left. Pip and i decided to continue with our plans to meet Kristina and her friend for dinner, even though i had completely lost my appetite. Sarah stayed home to be with Grandma.

Pip and i arrived at the resteraunt about five minutes earlier than when we had decided to meet, around 8:00. So we told the hostess we'd wait for them to get there, about 5 minutes. I was still shaking, a bit bewildered and not looking forward to having to act happy to see two people i'd rather not have to deal with at the moment. But we waited. We talked. 10 minutes passed, 15, 20, 25...we tried calling her, but she didn't pick up. We told the hostess that we'd go ahead and sit down. As we sat there, Andrew called me and told me some new phrases he had learned in Italian. He was genuinely excited. It made me laugh. After about 10 more minutes we ordered food. I didn't really want to eat anything, but i also didn't want to be rude and be the only one not eating. We were at a resteraunt, after all.
When we were about half way done, and wondering if they would even come at all, they walked in the front door, and saw us. Stina walked over with a guilty smile on her face, "sorry we're late." She said.
That was all.
Stina introduced Pip to...her friend...and they sat down. We handed them menus. oh, no thanks. They were'nt going to eat, they said. There was an akward pause. I stared at my plate full of food i didn't want. "Maybe we should have met at a coffee shop or something," i stated and looked at Kristina. She shrugged, and ordered an iced tea.
The next 20 minutes were spent in scattered conversation, forced laughter, and lots of staring at food and sipping our water. I drank a lot of water.
Stina ate some of my rice and i had the rest packed up. We paid. They left. Pip and i sat there for a minute for no reason, really, and then we left.
As we drove to his house, i sat and played the night's various scenarios through my head. I worried about my grandpa. I worried about what this would mean for my family as my grandparent's can't be left alone. I thought about how tired my mom is. I worried about Kristina and her situation and tried not to think about how pissed off i was at her and instead think about how much i loved her. I worried about how behind i am in school...
Pip asked if i wanted to come in. I said sure. We goofed around on his music stuff for a while and he ate some Mochi. Around 11, i left. I think i left my food in his car.
When i got home, i helped grandma to the bathroom and had to tell her FIVE TIMES i didn't want to talk about grandpa, and the hospital, and how mean my mom was, before she finally shut up. Grandpa came home that night. With stitches and a new set of ground rules...he can't do anything without his walker anymore. No carrying things, no fiddling in the bathroom, no getting my grandma her pills...nothing. He's too unstable.
He and my mom yelled about it more this morning as she got him to wash himself. She told him she didn't care anymore if he didn't like her or not as long as he was safe. Because he should have been killed last night. "I was by the grace of God", she told him, that he got by with only four stitches and a banged up shoulder. I stayed home from church and helped her rearrange the tables to make things "walker accessible", and clean out their bathroom, do dishes, and tke care of our new dog (we got a puppy two days ago. A lovely little light in the misdt of the chaos!).
He's so sad. Just sad. Depressed. I don't blame him. He can't even do the little things anymore.
Ugh, i smell. I'm going to go take a shower.

Thursday, November 25

Happy Erntedankfest!

Just let me know if my German bothers you.
I've been cooking since 9 am. It's been quite satisfying dressing Turkey and layering apple pies to Bob Dylan and Elliot Smith.
I added some new blogs i've come across; some i've been visiting for a while. They're definetly quality.
I still have trouble spelling definetly.

Just thought i'd share the love. (:

Wednesday, November 24

Jesus Freaks

Last night at Art Center my professor showed us some interesting websites.
She designs websites for a living (aside from her teaching) so she's always got new and interesting things to inspire us.
Just for fun, she showed us a site called, that deal with the art of using not only the words, but incorporating typography visuals and sound. One such creation is called "The Last Day of Betty Nkomo", and for some reason i found it fascinating. It's intense, in some ways; i won't say too much about it. But if you go to it, make sure your volume is low, if it needs to be. If not, crank it up, because the syncronization of the words and the music is really beautiful. here you go!

So guess what? i actually wound up going to the Billy Graham Crusade after all. On Saturday morning i went to Pip's house to practice and he asked if i was going. I hadn't planned on it. Why didn't i go? hmm, interesting idea. Okay, i'll go!
That's kind of how it happened. So around 6:00 Pip, Andrew and his USC posse, and my sister all came to the house and we walked down to the Rose Bowl. It's nice living so close, it only took us about a half-hour and was much more refreshing than sitting in traffic with gazillions of cars. We walked across the golf course turned parking lot and past the picketers holding up signs reading "Billy Graham=Hell" or something like that. I guess no public event worth it's salt can take place without a close-knit bunch of angry protestors on it's skirts.
When we found our seats just as the program began, the place was about three quarters full. As the "hip" Christian bands began playing i kind of zoned out, i admit. I don't know, i found it hard to get inspired by a bunch of guys running around on stage screaming like maniacs how much Jesus loves them. At one point Pip turned to me and said "I wonder what it's like for the people that haven't been to one of these since 1965".
Once Third Day got up things calmed down a bit. They played a few older worship songs i could actually sing to, and that was nice.

By the time Billy Graham showed himself, the entire place was packed. I'm not kidding. every seat even behind the stage was taken.
His talk wasn't stellar. Just simple and palpable...which i guess was exactly what people needed to hear because when the altar call came it took about 10 minutes to completely fill the football field in the center of the stadium. I'm talking thousands of people. There was so little room there were people saying the sinner's prayer in the aisles. It was both awe inspiring and unnerving.
Anyone who reads this...please pray for these people. Now is the time for the enemy to get his foot in the door. May they all continue to grow in wisdom and the Lord's joy.
The walk back was equally nice, Pip Sarah and i singing Christmas carols a lot of the way, trying to keep the cold out of our jackets. About 5 minutes after we all returned back to our house, it began to pour. That was lovely...until we decided to go out to dinner. And for that account, i will use a portion from Andrew's blog concerning the same event...
"After that we went to Dinner at a Thai place called Chandra's- but the ride there was the real experience... something you could really sink your teeth into, if you know what I'm saying. It was pouring rain, and my Cadillac was loaded down with six poeple all squishing each other. I couldn't see the lanes on the street, the windows were fogged up like crazy, I was frantically trying to wipe down the rain that was pouring in the side window (which I had open so I could see and in a half-hearted attempt to de-fog the windows), Don was weeping, back-seat drivers were earnestly trying to direct me, people were honking and all throughout Mike Escoto was taking flash photography inside the car. Awesome. Needless to say, we made it- and thank God the rain subsided by the time we were done, cause I would not have wanted to go to LA in those conditions."
I'm proud to say that i was one of those back seat drivers.

Ich brauche gehen nach arbeite. I hope that means what i want it to mean.
Keeping it real...

Friday, November 19

Crickets, Quotes and Prickly Prayers

I can hear the Billy Graham Crusade out my open window.
Faintly, but it's there all the same.
Rejoicing music, praise, cheers, singing...
It made me smile. I'd love to go.

The traffic coming out of the Rose Bowl is going to be terrible tonight. :P
That wasn't cynicism by the way...just observation.
You know, fill space...

There are crickets everywhere. EVERYWHERE. It's disgusting. I really hate bugs that can jump...seriously.They're not even the neat black ones...which i can mimimally tolerate. No, they're the ugly horrid nasty yellow ones that blend in with everything and jump on your feet and make you scream. Or just me.
My grandma tries to squish them with her cane, and my grandpa does his part by yelling at us to keep all of the doors closed all the time. There's always one mashed on the nice new floors somewhere. uuullllg.
The other day my grandma said to my dad:
"I kill crickets right and left. There are plenty out in the back yard if you want to shoot em."
After a pause ahe continued, mostly to herself:
"I want to find out if they're valuable to the environment before I kill them all."
Definitely a new classic quote by grandma.

I'm making a birthday card with Lude Jaw, i mean Jude Law all over it for Sarah. She's 20 on Monday. WOW...
I need to figure out where i want to go to school.

I'm very confused.
I still have a stomachache.
Today's Friday. We're not really having a Bibly Study...just prayer and singing. I wish i didn't feel so freaking antisocial.
Sometimes i just want to strangle people to their senses.
Mostly myself...especailly right now...

What a _______________week.

I can't even think of the right word to justify it...

Tuesday, November 16

no way.

wow. This just made me laugh...which is good...because it's been such a strange week. I've been one of those haywire irritating emotional people i dislike so of those who just permeate their surroundings with their spiteful brooding. Not that i was trying to be spiteful. Just unable to gracefully channel the frustrations that came my way. That's something i've had to work on for a while now. They say the first step to success is admitting that you have a problem...blagh.

Anyway, i think some people in this country have far too much time on their hands. That and their priorities are way screwed up. Either way, no one will ever convince me to eat sushi made of soybeans.

Sunday, November 14


Well, i was going to try and write something of some depth but i just spent the last hour or so walking my grandma around the backyard. Then i made her lunch. I listened to her babble about the flowers and the ferns and i got to pull some weeds. She poked at dirt clods with her cane and raved about how lovely her ginko tree was. I learned about oxalys, iris's, the proper way to trim a fig tree...half the time i admit i wasn't even listening. Just nodding and giving the occasional "mm hmm". She didn't notice, of course, and talked and talked and talked. It makes her happy.
It's a very large yard and consequently very overgrown because of the lack of attention in the past year. But my mom is determined to set things straight again, now that we're living here. She's already done a beautiful job with the front. Yet somehow my grandma still finds reason to complain to her about how she's doing everything wrong or whatever.
oh well.
at least it's a beautiful cool evening. the combination of the evergreens and the red and yellow trees glowing outside right now is glorious.
it's this time of year when it's cool and cloudy and the trees are ablaze that i can stand living in California!
yuck. got to go to work.
How do you tell someone something they don't want to hear?

Friday, November 12


What a blessing, Andrew. Thanks for sharing...

Tuesday, November 9


As i type i can hear the cupboards opening...shutting...opening...shutting...
He's been at it for nearly 30 minutes now.

This morning was the third morning this week that my grandpa got his and my grandmother's medications mixed up.

There was a lot of yelling and grandpa screaming he didn't do it, my dad yelling that he did and my mom crying and trying to be gentle. It went on for 5-10 grandpa calling my parents liars for saying that he got the medications mixed up, ordering my dad to get out of the room and mind his own business (bad idea) grandma telling them to leave him parents attempting in vain to warn them of the seriousness of the situation...
...this morning was the worst as he put both of their medications ALL at my grandma's place. It got so bad i started shaking and i had to put down what i was holding. I'm so sick of all the yelling.
We don't know why he's all of a sudden doing this...but it's been worrying us. It's the caregiver's job to put the medications out...but now he's starting to ignore that rule. So this morning after the "intervention", we decided we had to hide their pill boxes. He's been in the kitchen searching feverishly for them ever since. I just heard him open the oven for the FIFTH TIME. He's looken in the freezer, the refrigerator, the washing machine, the trash can, the dishwasher...
"I...I've got to find...where...where did she put the pills? where...where...I've got to find..."
Thumping around with his cane. muttering. thumping. muttering...

He can't see, and his memory is shot. Heck, the guy's 90. So he's just circling, circling circling.

We know he'll eventually sneak back into the back of the house where my family stays...he does it to make sure all of our windows are closed, or that our heat is turned up to sweltering we're having to be very tricky where we hide them. We're this close to putting deadbolts on our doors.
It's so bizarre. It's like a comedy situation or something...but when it's's not quite as funny.
It's a matter of life and death.


I just finished mounting an assignment for my Art Center class...i have to drive out to Disney to get my mom to print out another one for me. I really like the class. It's extremely challenging...but so far, i've been able to keep up with it. Which is an amazement to me. It's my other classes i'm worried about...he he...
At least i'm keeping up in German. Also an accomplishment.'s probably because i like it so much! But no one else likes it when i speak it. It's like they can't understand me or something...
My dad just informed me that we're hiding the pills behind the bookcase.

So it's come to this...

Monday, November 8

For the record...

Last night i dreamt (dreampt??) that Bill Clinton died in a firey plane crash over the coast of Florida.
Just for the record.

Sunday, November 7


please pray for anna.

Saturday, November 6


Last night i had some very strange dreams. One i can only remember in 3 parts...and it might be kind of boring. But you don't have to read it...

DISCLAIMER...the thoughts and/or actions of the "me" in this dream narrative do not necessarily represent the thoughts and/or actions of the "me" of waking life...

I was over at Kristina's house (or maybe she was over kind of looked like her house) late at night and we were talking, maybe watching a movie or something...i don't quite remember what we were doing but we did it for a while.
I finally was getting tired and i told her i needed to go to sleep. She looked at me and said "well what am I going to do? I'm not meeting the people from my bible study for another hour..." I thought to myself, "oh, i guess i'm just a time killer until she meets her REAL friends..." so i guess we decided to go do something.

Somehow we ended up in some sort of outdoor shopping plaza thing that was all hi-tech and snazzy, and i wanted to go into a beauty supply store to find some styling stuff for my hair. Now that's weird because i never do anything to my hair. Buuut it's a dream so...
Stina and i walk into the store which is sterile, kind of glowed with a green hue and had high vaulted ceilings. I think the walls were made of was very "futuristic". The latest in hair technology lined the numerous shelves and i looked around the room. Some guy who worked there walked up to me and asked if i needed help. He was about as tall as me (5'8) and had blonde spiked hair, glasses, artsy-chic clothes and all the jazz you expect someone to wear who would work in a place like that. I explained to him what i was looking for..."something to make the waves in my hair more defined, bla bla..." and he flamboyantly, yet aloofly steered me toward the counter, where behind it were the most recent shipments and he handed me a tube of some olive green gunk that looked like minty foot scrub and told me that it was exactly what i needed.
I decided to pass.
I looked around and noticed that Kristina was gone, so i left the store.
I saw her a little ways off with her back to me and when i reached her she had just finished talking to someone on her cell phone...and she was crying. i asked her what was wrong and she told me that her get together with her friends was cancelled, and she was mostly upset because it was supposed to be at her house that night and it didn't work out. We decided to go back to her house.
When we got there, we went into her room. But it was nothing like her room in that it was very empty...just a bed, desk and rug. There was a lamp giving some low light, making the room feel both cozy and somewhat brooding at the same time. We opened the door that led to the hall to find Stina's sister, Rebekka, and a friend in sleeping bags on the floor. They were bickering and poking and hitting each other. Stina went to talk to her parents and as i waited in the hall Rebekka and i got into a HUGE argument about something. I don't recall it's subject. I just remember i was fuming!
The dream fades after that.
Probably because i suddenly heard a doorbell ring...

I woke up and stared at the wall. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that i actually HAD heard a doorbell was the sound of my grandparent's call button that they push if they need help.
We're getting wood floors put into their room this weekend, so they slept in my parent's room last night. My mom was sleeping all the way in the living room on the couch and my dad was in the office with the door closed. Good thing our bedroom door was open a crack and i'm such a horribly light sleeper...Sarah and Acacia didn't even stir.
I soon understood that i was the only one that had heard it.
I got out of mass of hair wild around my head, stiff and dizzy from rising so fast, and walked across the hall to the room G&G were sleeping in.
Just to make sure i wasn't going crazy and hadn't really heard anything at all, i put my ear to the door to see if there was any sound in the room. Sure enough, i heard my grandma calling my mom's name in her feeble voice. I opened the door and asked what was wrong...grandpa had fallen, grandma told me. I looked over in the dark to his bed, and he was snugly tucked in...wondering why i was in the room. I looked at their clock... it said 5:01. Grandma was sitting up on the side of the bed going on about how he slipped, fell, couldn't get up, so she pushed the call button, etc etc...
I went over to him and took his hand...
"Are you okay, grandpa?"
He reached up toward me to see who i was, "It's Colleen, " i said.
"Oh...yes...i'm fine."
After a minute or so I went back to grandma who was trying to stand up to use the bathroom. "He's okay grandma." She turned the lamp on next to her bed...which blinded me for a few minutes.
She asked him about 5 more times if he was alright before he nearly started yelling at her, "Yes I'm FINE! I'm not HURT!!" and to be quiet and go to sleep. I helped grandma use her potty chair and got her back into bed, talking to me all the time. I made sure the bathroom door was open the right amount, that their night light was on, that they were warm enough...and i tucked grandma in.
"Thank you, darling," she said to me.
"You're welcome, good night." I turned out the lamp.
Blind again, i left the room to find my way back to my own bed, tripping over piles of my sister's clothes and stepping over Acacia. I don't know how long it took me to fall asleep...but it wasn't quick! The room was getting light again before i finally dozed off.
Even then, my dreams were even more confusing. Not that that's unusual or anything.

Friday, November 5


Why do i always find myself feeling jealous of people for the wrong reasons?

(not that there are good ones)


Thursday, November 4

oh bother

It's funny how screwed up one's head gets when one loses focus, isn't it?
I feel like i've been really my family, to my friends, to myself. Of course most of my reasons for my discontent haven't written about. Because to me, they make sense...but to everyone else my woes are pitiful, at best. And...they're right. That's another reason. I'm a bit embarrased about it. All i want is to feel sounds easy, doesn't it? You know you shouldn't look at things a certain way, or you need to change the way you feel about why is it so impossibly...impossible? I don't feel a whole lot different...i still want to scream every so often and cry my brains out...but i'm trying to figure out how i've gotten this way. It's mysterious and shameful. I don't know.
I think i need to stop writing about myself so much. But what else do i do with a blog? So confusing...
I HAVE found out one thing...talking to people is good. Too bad that along with this strange rut i'm in i've developed such a phobia of plesant conversation.
In other news...
i finished the next cd project pip and i are doing...a "random mix". It's awesomely sweet.
we're getting another dog next month :D
i overheard my grandpa telling someone i didn't have any brains today!
sweet guy.


Wednesday, November 3

Here is me at the show last friday...sort of.
getting ready to hydrate my singing voice.

I really like this picture...
slow shutter speeds are my friend.

Tuesday, November 2

Wouldn't you know it?

I just typed a whole page and the computer crashed! :D
Today is the election. Thank goodness it's almost over!!!
Yes, i voted. I even have my sticker to prove it. It says "I voted" how appropriate!
Something i am very grateful for is my lack of anxiety about the outcome of this election.
It's wonderful to be able to trust that everything will turn out the way it's meant to, that it's all in the Lord's hands....if only i could just apply that to my own life!

I'm just about getting my fill of sign-waving brawling sreaming angry freakish demonstrators who would shank their own mother in her sleep if she was part of an opposing party. Or the rows and rows of houses adorned with Bush or Kerry Banners. Here in LA i feel like we really get the brunt of it.
When i started this, Bush was ahead in the electoral votes 34-4 i think.
Now Kerry is ahead 77-66.
Anyway, what i especially will not miss is the bombardment-by-television. I don't even watch tv. But my grandparents have it on 24/7 so i can't help but be constantly hammered with propositions, news reels, conventions, Kerry this and Bush that, politics politics, VOTE OR DIE ads, bla bla bla...
Bush is ahead again, 89-77.
Unfortunately, i can't see the division in this country getting any better no matter who wins.
Holy Cow! 102-77 already! matter who wins. If Bush wins, all of his "fans" will have a field day...make that a field 4 years...out of voicing their ever-increasing discontent...many people won't support him no matter what he does. If Kerry wins, we'll never hear the end of "flip flop" digs, and controversies about his veteran days. Again, nothing he will do will be right in the eyes of some.

Didn't i just say i wouldn't worry about it?
See that's the problem with me.
156-108, Bush. 270 needed to win.
this is too exciting for words.

Off to my Art Center class i go! Maybe i'll post from there.
now 153-112...hmmm. interesting.

Monday, November 1

Main Street

Eating Caramel Apples at Disneyland on my birthday. I'm on the far right next to me is my sister Sarah, Laurel and Katie.
What a lovely day!

(kind of a weird picture of laurel...)

Saturday, October 30

Wow. i worry far too much for my own good. God knows why. It doesn't help me...or anyone else, very much.
At all.
Today was frustrating. Living here is driving me up the wall. If you could hear me right now you'd hear me going
or something like that. I probably shouldn't write about it.
I don't even know if i want to write about it.
Living with two 90 year old oversized toddlers is a nightmare sometimes.
They yell and scream for no reason
They can't be left alone
They need help getting dressed
They can't walk
They need to be fed
They pee in their pants and you have to clean it up
They freak out if their surroundings change
They're always too hot or too cold
They have temper tantrums and throw things
They don't listen to reason
They have no sense of personal hygene
They have no sense of personal space
They're always always squabbling

poor Kristina had to be here today as a typical afternoon taking care of grandma and grandpa unfolded before me.
Let's just say it involved numerous trips up and down the attic stairs, a screaming fretful grandfather, grandma with a bladder infection, an overflowing toilet, bouts with my grandpa...which is going on right now. Everyone's yelling..............!
I think i'm losing my mind. At least i wish i was sometimes. Living here's only the half of it. it's like the icing... I don't know. I really feel like i am.
I just hate being here and i hate the state i'm in right now and i hate that i don't want to talk to anybody about it and that i've dug myself in so deep and i'm taking it out oneveryone else and i'm turning into jus tthe opposit of who i want to be or even who i was when i at least i could deal with conflict in a solid healthy way and not dwell on the garbage that is swirling inside of me and taking hold of
I probably shouldn't have written about it.

i'm so sorry i'm so negative

Thursday, October 28

Tomorrow night is Pip's show. I'm going tover to his house to practice tonight. I get to play the Pianosaurus!!! YAY! Andrew stole the Keyboard from me. grrr.....
It's going to be AWESOME!

I'm joking, Andrew, by the way. You're much better at it than i am. (;

Wednesday, October 27

Another music post...HAHAHA!

I go through phases with the music i listen to...sometimes only listening to only one or two cd's for a week or more. I recently went through a period of a couple of weeks when all i listened to was the Pixies and Bjork. For no particular reason, really. It was just my mood. The recent cold and rainy weather has softened my tastes slightly for the time being and i'm currently partial to Sufjan Stevens and my mix of celtic music i made. "Seven Swans" is such an awesome record! I hadn't heard it in a while and i just started listening to it's soothing and satisfying...a lovely combination. I've been enjoying the Muse a lot, too.
Pip and i decided that the next mix CD's we'll create will be the most random, bizarre collection of tracks we can think of. I'm going to have fun with that.
Today my sister and i were eating at this Malaysian place and i heard a song playing that i felt i HAD to have for my crazy mix! I asked the shy waitress what the CD was and she looked confused and said she'd go check. At this point Sarah was laughing at me because she thought i was acting weird, and i started chuckling. They must have gotten confused and though i wanted to see the actual disk, so the music stopped and i looked over to see 3 asian people gathered around the CD player arguing with each other. I felt bad and i started laughing even more at the akwardness of the situation. When one of the older women came over to give me the CD to look at, i had a full-blown laugh attack. Actually, i had 2 laugh attacks. Obviously i was already giggling as she approached me but there was something about the combonation of the look on her face and the fact that i tried as hard as i could to act cool and read the cover of the CD until through my teared-up eyes i realized it was all in Chinese. I felt so stupid my nervous laughter kicked in and i looked desperately to my sister only to find her hiding her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking.
Tears began to form in the corners of my eyes and i looked up athe woman to ask her a question in hopes it would calm me down...and she was still wearing the same quizzical, penetrating, bewildered look on her face that broke me up in the first place. So my question went something like this...
"he he he!'m sorry...hee hee hee hee! could i...he he!...maybe...he he he he he he !....oooooahhhh...."
And so on. In silent laughter. It was terrible. I don't know if i've ever been so embarrassed.
The rest is unimportant. The fact that this is the second time this has happened to me in a resteraunt kind of worries me. I can't be taken anywhere anymore!
I won't eat there for a while.
The CD was by a lady named Teresa Teng by the way.

Tuesday, October 26


She really hated how pissed off she would get sometimes...often while she was doing it. Not that that ever really changed anything. No matter how unreasonable she felt she was acting, once her temper was put into motion there were few things that could stall it.
This time it was just a cumulation of a day's worth of frustrations that tore her from her mother's embrace and made her lunge at her sister to strangle her. Knowing what flak she would get for this later she instead picked up a pen and threw it at her...then stormed out of the bedroom.

It was dark outside. Of course it was dark outside it was after 11 at night. Before closing the door fimly behind her she made sure the deadbolt was unlocked and set off up the driveway, trying not to think of all the homework she had to do. At least she wasn't crying this time. The oak leaves crunched under her feet...the only sound breaking the chilly silence.
When she reached the street she looked around her and contemplated her 4 choices of wanderings to take. The two streets to her left she ruled out immediately. They led up into the hillside and were far too dark for her comfort...not that walking around alone at night was comfortable anyway. Considering she'd never walked through her hillside neighborhood this late before she decided on a somewhat well-lit direction.

The lamps on this street shone down with an orange light. She sat down underneath one right in the middle of the fork in the road where she could see for blocks straight ahead of her, and watched the headlights of cars come from far away then finally whiz past in two directions. She made a little game out of guessing which way they would turn before they seemed to run right into her, each time feeling slightly exhilirated. She tilted her head up and stared through the branches of the tree above, the bright orange light on the leaves framing a brilliant blue-green night sky spread with thin clouds. She had looked up just in time to see the half-moon dash behind the silver lined blanket and shine through translucently. She felt guilty about her mom and how unfairly she treated her. She lowered her chin and gazed ahead of her. It was really cold. She put her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt and drew her knees closer...if only she had used the bathroom before she stomped out. She became very uncomfortable as a result of this, and the inklings of her somewhat irrational but often nagging thought of animal and human predators beginning to creep into her head, so she pulled up her hood and stood up. She decided to turn left.

This street was a winding one, so she stayed on the sidewalk to avoid the occasional cars screaming around the bends. Not to mention she was wearing black; she wasn't that brave.
She ran into a spider web and swiped a her face. Passing a dark, shaded area the idea of stopping to pee grew very tempting...but not enough to risk the akwardness of the procedure. Being a girl really sucks sometimes.
After two or three blocks she stopped under a dim light amidst some low-hanging branches. Gazing searchingly at the tangled, somewhat ominous looking hillside across from her, she wondered how much further she should go this way. She habitually glanced over her shoulder and started walking again. A bush rustled about 10 feet in front of her. She turned around and headed back.

Passing her own street again, she continued down where she would have turned right. Instead of streetlights, lining this way were lampposts; old-fashioned ones that had angular heads and gave off a bluish-yellow glow. She stopped near one and noticed she was next to a holly bush...or at least one with a bunch of red berries on it. They seemed to look even redder in the cool light, and she grabbed a handful of them. The noise of someting in the tree across the street startled her; she threw the berries in that direction and kept walking, once again checking over her shoulder.
Every time a car would pass, she hunched her shoulders and took a wider stride so to appear more...threatening? masculine? inconspicuous? She didn't even know. But she did it anyway.
Ahead of her a figure suddenly came to her attention that was headed towards her at a quicker pace that she was maintaining. She pulled her hood down further and stepped to the side and continued on as a pudgy man in a white t-shirt puffed past her. She looked up. "Hello," she said.
He smiled.

For whatever reason, after that, all fear of vicious coyotes and potential rapists left her and she strolled in freer thought and higher confidence past fake jack-o-lanterns, numerous signs advertising Kerry and Bush supporters and through several more spider webs...but those didn't even bother her anymore. There was somehow such a strange surreal, haunting feeling to her surroundings that she longed to sprawl in the middle of the street, clambour to the top of one of the gnarled old trees or run as fast as she could towards the busy highway. Only the tingling sensation in her bladder kept her in close touch with reality.
As she walked she thought she spotted a strange light several blocks ahead on the other side of the street. It was large, and it pulsated on and off. Stopping, she tried to make out what it was. It was no use. She cursed her blurry vision and quickened her pace out of curiosity. The closer she drew to it, the more she became anxious to find what it was...

She stood before it and marvelled at it's glory. The warm light shone on her face and dissapated, again and again. It was the tackiest inflatable electric giant Halloween decoration she'd ever seen. She laughed at herself.

She'd been walking for blocks...but didn't know for how long. She didn't really care; but obvious factors convinced her it was time to turn around.

The stroll back was uneventful, yet lovely all the same. She walked slower and slower as she drew closer the street of her family's house. Despite the ache in her lower belly she delayed her entrance into the darkened entryway for as long as she could stand it...and wasn't too surprised at the lack of enthisiasm at her return. She shut the bathroom door and turned on the heater...and wondered how long she would have stayed out if only she wasn't female...

Sunday, October 24

Are you ready?

Grandma decided this morning that she wanted to visit the cemetery where her mother, beloved aunt, and my grandpa's mom and dad are buried. Her insistance and fussing over it were what made my mom agree, and give up a rare free afternoon to take her.

We were all preparing to leave for church as my mom solidified with my grandma and grandpa that she'd be home at 2:00 to pick them up.
"Dad are you sure you want to go?" She asked grandpa.
He paused and gazed up then down at his hands resting on his cane.
"Yes, I want to go."
"Okay then," she turned to call into the bedroom, "Mom, I'll be home around 2:00, okay?"
"Will you be ready?"
"Oh, yes. I'll be ready."
"Okay," my mom said in a slightly skeptical voice. As we walked out she yelled, "See you at 2!"

"Hey, I'm home!" my mom calls out as she and i walk in the front door at 2:00 sharp. Grandpa comes around the corner with the usual bewildered look on his face at seeing someone walking around the house. "Oh! hi," he says.
"How are you guys doing?" My mom asks expectantly as she makes her way to their bedroom to check on Grandma's progress. "fine, fine."
My mom walks into their master bathroom and asks grandma, "How are you doing mom, are you ready?"
"Oh, yes, I am," she states in her small, grainy voice as she stands bent at the sink.
"Okay, because we need to go as soon as we can."
"Oh Good. Good." She turns the water on, "I want to get some...uh...steaks."
My mom remains quiet, somewhat perplexed, but used to her mother's out-of context-ramblings.
"At Ralphs," Grandma continues, holding her shaking hands under the faucet. "Some nice top mignons. Would be very nice..."
"Okay, but mom what does this have to do with the cemetery?"
"The cemetery?"
Mom sputters a bit, "W-well, yes, mom! You wanted to go to the cemetery today, remember?"
"That's why I came home so early."
"Oh...yes. I forgot."
There's a small pause as my mom gathers her patience.
"My mind was...all on Christmas," Grandma mumbles softly. "I was...looking through all those books and i got so involved..." She trails off.
My mom asks slowly, "Do you still want to go?"
"Yes. I want to go. I'm going. I haven't gone in years and by God, I'm going."
Mom sighs, "okay. Are you going to be ready?"
"Yes. I'll be ready."

I don't know what it is about the thought of an 87 year old woman visiting the grave of her mother, aunt, and her husband's parents on a cold, grey October day that causes such indescribable feelings to run through me. And knowing the history she's had. Her father isn't buried there, because she never knew what happened to him after he left her and her mother when she was 14, and her mother slowly lost her mind as she grew older and my grandma had to care for her.

"Are you ready mom?" my mother asks again.
Her husband decides not to go because he'd "just get in the way", and sits in his armcair as mom cleans his false eye.
"Now don't worry," she consoles him. "We'll be back soon, and Colleen will be here for a little while."
He doesn't say much as they leave, but as always, makes sure to ask his wife, "do you have a little sweater on, mommy?"

Saturday, October 23

WILL EVERYBODY PLEASE STOP SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

die Farben

red are
some of

Wednesday, October 20

I wish i...

was fluent in German and Gaelic
could draw hands flawlessly
could not be so ticklish
had stronger nails
could play the bagpipes
would wrote a novel
could run a marathon
liked talking on the phone
prayed more
read more
painted more
could do a handspring
would talk more
liked talking more
could live in Ireland
or Germany
could be an opera singer
would lose 20 pounds
genuinely laughed more
wasn't turning 22 on Friday
was more forgiving
was more understanding
was more content!

Monday, October 18

Yea, so.....i just found out that my car might be totaled.

Sunday, October 17

"Sunday Morning...

"...praise the dawning."

Well...i got into my first car accident this morning. I realize i wasn't missing much... guys will never believe wasn't my fault! Seriously! I really did always think that my first accident would be my fault because of my insane driving habits. But i digress...

My mom, Sarah, Laurel and i were on our way to church on a busy surface street. We had been singing hymns in the car and talking about how amazing it was that we left on time. We drove for about 20 minutes and i got off the freewway...
I was driving in the right hand lane because i was going to make a turn soon, when suddenly a white sedan pulled in front of me and slammed on their brakes to turn into a gas station.

Now, it had been raining all night and morning so the roads were slick, so luckily i wasn't going as fast as i usually do. Not that it would have mattered because as hard as i tried to pump my own brakes, all i could do was watch in slow motion as my mom threw up her hands and said "shit" and my truck skidded straight into the back of the car in front of me, my mom yelling "God DAMMIT!" on impact.
We lurched forward with a jolt and i sat dazed staring out the windsheild as my mom continued to seethe and ordered me to pull into the station behind the people i hit.
I was freaked out because the majority of rear-endings are the fault of the person in...the rear! And there's really no way to prove you weren't at fault if no one else saw it happen...which thank God a couple of other cars did! And they gave us their numbers and info in case we needed it.

Luckily, though, the people i hit didn't even try and deny that they were the ones who took the blame. I'm guessing that they either don't have insurance, or ust didn't want it reported because they told us they'd pay for everything....and the man in the car owns a body shop in that area, and said he'd fix it.
i sure hope it works out alright...

But for now, my front bumper is all smashed in and my hood is bent up and jiggles ominously. There was some kind of electrical shortage or none of the lights in the car are working...the door lights won't go off so i had to get my boss (who works with cars) to take all my bulbs out so my battery doesn't die. The lights on my dash aren't turning on so i drove home in darkness after work tonight. at least my headlights are okay.
sigh. I hope that this isn't an omen for the coming week.

It was funny seeing my mom shoot her mouth off like that. Every once in a while i'll catch a glimpse of her college-aged self through her present good mommyness that fascinates me.

The weather was impeccable. So that's a plus! What a weird day, though. I won't even get into all the stuff that went on after 11:00 this morning.

I hear mom Sarah and Laurel laughing by the fire in the living room...
Sarah wrote a screenplay. It's really good.

I've had Velvet Underground stuck in my head all day.

it's cold. i wish it would keep raining.

I watched a movie last night that made me really sad. It seriously made me hurt...i almost wish i hadn't seen it. It's weird how i react to things.

I feel strangely disconnected with myself right now.

Wednesday, October 13

It will probably be like nothing ever happened...that or it will always come back to haunt us.
There was a period of such peace and kindness for about three months...until he started living in the same house with us again. Even so, the return to what was previously "normal" has been gradual. sneaky, even. As much as i had been so overjoyed have a father i could look up to and respect for hopes were dashed as he began to become paranoid again. He began to criticize my mom again. He buried Sarah's attempts to kindly come to terms with our home situation. He still thinks i'm a crazy kid who's out to thwart him. He still denies that he knew what he was doing to our family for the past 22 years...or to my mom for the last 25. They're fighting right now. He's using his patronizing high pitched demeaning tone to probably tell her that she looked at him wrong...or laughed too hard in the next room at work today, or...heaven forbid, maybe she even got frustrated at him at some point today...and ...EXPRESSED IT!
We're all begining to fight again...question each other again...walk on pins and needles again.
I don't know how much longer i'll be able to keep my head above's driving me crazy. I hate that every time he apologizes...there's an excuse...a reasonable cause for his behavior...a "But..."
"You guys, I'm so sorry for the way I acted last week. I've been outside working and the paint fumes have really been getting to me."
"Colleen I'm sorry if I was rude to you this morning. Something about the chemicals in the shampoo I used really threw me for a loop."
"Carol I'm so sorry about what I said yesterday, but there must have been some pesticides on the apple I was eating or something, and my head was all screwed up."
The worst was the years and years of enduring his tyrranical moods swings (I'm serious) during weeks that he would be preparing for his sermon on Sunday, or studying for the Bible study on Friday...and having to ignore it. Having to sidestep it. Having to accept it. Because he was "under so much pressure", "under the enemy's attack". He was under the enemy's attack, alright. Him and the rest of the family, and everyone who came into our home. It became routine.
"What's up with dad, today?"
"He's preaching on Sunday."
"oh...okay, then."
And of course he'd always apologize, often deeply. Sending my mom flowers. Buying Sarah and I gifts. And yet if any of us approached him on the issue (mom, usually, as Sarah and i were often afraid to), we were being disrespectful to him as "the father, husband and head of the household". It sickens me to think about it. It's like some twisted version of an abusive relationship...but within a family. And without the physical aspect. But Emotional abuse can leave scars just as deep as physical.
My mom was too fat, or too skinny. Her jeans were too tight. Her blouse was too big. She wasn't wearing enough makeup...her lipstick was the wrong color. Her arms were too muscular, she didn't exercise enough. Her hair was too short. She talked too loudly, she was too friendly with other men. She never supported him. She always took our side...
There would be nights where i would lay in bed listening to the yelling in the room next to mine...or above mine...or wherever they were. I'd listen to my mom cry. Sometimes he'd come into my room and lecture me on why he was right and she was wrong until he was blue in the face...or he felt like i saw it his way.
As i got older it got worse as i began to argue back at him...even if i knew it would get me nowhere. i was just angry. I had to argue. it was a hideous trait i picked up from him and will have to struggle with for my entire life.
Of course my opposition to him was immediately noting but blatant disrespect in his eyes, whether or not i was right, or calm, or unbiased. And, in his eyes, i became the sort of rebellious wayward daughter he always accused me of being. Though the worst i ever did was drive to a friend's without telling him where i was going after he physically threw me out of the house with no shoes on, no bag, no wallet. not even my phone. that was just a few years ago.

And he still has the gall to tell us he "had no idea" what he was doing. But ever since his "revelation" earlier this year, he's "a changed man". So even if thing do regress, as they are, he will never admit to it. I don't even know if my mom will. When they were thinking about divorcing earlier this year i was devistated...and yet partially relieved. Something would really truly change! As i said before, those months living without him in the house were so lovely. Blissful, even.
Except for the nagging concern that somehow there was something just a little bit wrong with being to happy to finally live without my father, and how scarred and angry i realized i was after all those years...and how my mom would prbably never fully recover from a strenuous marriage full of tears, confusion and pointless criticism and conlict.
And there where times when thoughts like that would break the peace like a steel wrecking ball.

So i'm worried...when i hear dad tell my mom the other day that she wasn't nice enought to him while helping him with a simple computer function when she has a whole grossly chaotic Disney studio to get back on track after being gone for 3 weeks in Australia, having no time to personally help anyone else, while struggling with severe incompetence on the part of everyone who should have had authority while she was gone. I'm worried as he's beginning to dictate what friends she should be spending time with again.
I'm worried because he expects me to "forgive and forget" the person he's been my entire life, and treat him like someone i don't know. After being conditioned to respond to someone a certain way your entire CAN'T suddenly act as if it never happened. It's impossible, unreasonable, and absurd to think that anyone can do it. Because whether or not it's right, i don't know anything better.

And he's not a different person. Because he can't see that he has fault, and that other people are allowed to be faulty. Because he can't accept that he DID know what he was doing all those years. Otherwise why would he have spent so much time and money on trying to win back our affections after bowling us over?
He still wants to give ministry at church. And when he asked us how we felt about that...and we told him we weren't comfortable with it...he just firgured we were stuck in the past and hadn't "forgiven" him yet.
Whether or not i've forgiven him, this mess isn't over. He keeps telling my sister and i that there are "so many things" we don't know about, and shouldn't pass judgement based on what we see.
Well all i know is what i see. And i'm seeing things go from "normal" again.
And i don't like it.

Saturday, October 9

Dear Editor,

I wrote a letter to the editor of the college newspaper last week. It was something i'd been meaning to do for ages...and i finally sat down and spilled it out. It was mostly to get my feelings off of my chest so it was a bit impassioned...and i never really thought that they would actually print it...but they did!
To my astonishment, the following appeared on the second page of the PCC Courier last week...

My name is Colleen Police, Im 22 years old, I've been a student at PCC for 3 years and I am a Christian. I am also angry and humiliated, but for a reason many of you may not suspect. There is something going on at PCC that has been an annoyance to a few, an outrage to some, an embarrassment to others, or a combination of all three to someone like me.

What I'm talking about is the presence of "Jesus freaks" and "witnesses" planting themselves on the campus yelling, pointing fingers, and holding up outlandish signs warning people of the wrath of God and the dangers of Hell.

Just a few days ago, I watched in sickness as a man yelled accusingly to a girl walking past him how Jesus died for her.

I am upset because of the stigma these people are promoting and solidifying in the heads of the many individuals I know who think that all Christians are intolerant, stuck-up, "holier-than-thou" bible thumpers. That we are activists who care more about "saving" as many people as they can through fear and anxiety, than promoting the the real message and ministry of Christ that has seriously been all that has kept me alive, at times, in the past few years. One of hope (not dread) forgiveness (not punishment), and love (not hate).

I'm not a happy peppy Christian who goes around spouting off to everyone how perfect and pleasant my life is because I know Jesus. I'm just a college student trying to make it through this dark and confusing world the only way I know how.

I know I'm not alone as a person of faith on this campus in my thinking that what these people are doing is inappropriate. On behalf of all Christians and believers in Jesus Christ at PCC who hold my point of view on this issue, I deeply apologize to anyone who is offended or disgusted at this display of immaturity and lack of wisdom these people have shown, because I sure am.

Lastly, I want to encourage other Christians at PCC to engage with these people, tell them how much their actions upset you and offend you, let them know you don't support them. Because I sure will.

With all love and sincerity, Colleen

Crazy, no? The weirdest thing is the reactions i've been getting from people who have found out i wrote it...nothing negative...yet! I had one of my teachers write me a very sweet note commending me for writing it, aother one of my past teachers (quirky, loud, crazy atheist) told Kristina when he saw her how much he liked it, and i've even had a student i didn't know...but who obviously knew me...come up to me and thank me.

It was really awesome to think that maybe just ONE non-Christian would read it and think twice about what they believe. Of course it's also great to find a couple more Christians on campus who do agree with me. But i've been pondering something.
They all told me how brave i was, how great it was...i just said thanks..i don't know, it's weird. I would like to think that more people of faith would be willing to step out in it, you know?

it'll be interesting to see what happens next time those people come around...if i'll be willing to step out myself!

Friday, October 8

Here you go...Pip getting his face on by the ever sweet Sarah. Very nice.

I guess technically it's friday...

Hey...what's that....? A profile picture??
It is!
So there i am...sort of. i had fun playing with it. I love Photoshop. love love love it.
I also love Thursdays...because when i'm not in charge of my grandparents for the evening, it's my one guaranteed free evening of the week. Lovely!
So today after leaving PCC around 5 or so i arrived at my cousin Anna's apartment where she and my sister were waiting for me. We proceeded to eat Trader Joe's salads, and laugh and goof off like we always do. We then watched an episode of Alias on dvd. That show is so awesome. Sarah and Anna were laughing at me nearly the entire time because of how charismatically i was reacting to the various situations in the show. Hey...i enjoy myself. Oh, we ate Ben & Jerry's to further our viewing pleasure. We talked for a while, i put a new quote in my quote book, and after a time i popped in the first disk of the Two Towers EE. I turned on the commentary of the cast and sat and watched it with glee. Compliant but grumbling, the girls sat and watched it with me. I am such a complete geek. Please laugh at will make me feel better.
Sarah and i met Pip at our house around 10:00...we were going to have an evening of filming fun! Sarah has a film project due in her Art center class on Tuesday and she filmed the part with Pip in it tonight. It's basically going to entail images of "modern day" fairy tale characters played eerily by friends of ours...maybe even me!
The role required a great deal of freakish we proceeded to drastically lighten his face, put baby powder in his hair, red lipstick and liner all around his eyes, and mascara on his bottom lashes. He looked tight. (You did Pip, you did!)
He was supposed to be a sort of type of the "White Rabbit". At one point Sarah wanted him to jump around all crazy-like, and Pip did so, despite the fact that he's been fasting for 2 days (what a trooper!).
Set to "Spinning Plates" by Radiohead, it should be very interesting and spooky. I love that song. love love love it.
When we got back to the house around midnight we all took our makeup off in the bathroom. Such fun.
Wow, there are so many meaningful things i wanted to write...but i'm so so tired. A result of 3-5 hours of sleep every night this week. Go fig...
Bis Montag...

Wednesday, October 6


i've had the strongest urge to dye my hair some absurd color.
i should really be studying right now.
pink is pretty.

Tuesday, October 5


nothing like the feeling of accomplishment.
i just finished my Art Center project that's due tomorrow. after hours bent in front of the computer. i think it turned out pretty darn wicked cool!
but seriously, i'm so pumped to be creatively productive i can hardly contain myself. I'd post it and let all y'all see my lovely illustration (starring none other than Kristina!!!)...but i'm afraid i can't.
I wish i knew how to put pictures on here.
"oh, it's so easy!" Andrew says to me.
oh ho ho! well, Andrew my friend, there are alot of things in life easier than...
um , i mean ease is the pitfall of our bioptic that's to say that with the being of easiness one can only
i gots nothing. i'm just incompetent.

Friday, October 1

Happy October!

Yesterday was a day of many treasures! In more ways than one...
First of all i didn't have to drive my sister to school early that morning. aaaaah, precious sleep!

After getting out of class early (always nice), Kristina and i went to lunch at the resteraunt i work at where i got a free meal (key when you are a low-paid full time student), and after dropping her off back at school, i trucked it on over to Border's, a personal favorite hang-out of mine. There, for the next two hours i took full advantage of the wealth of written word at my eagerly searching fingertips and anxiously waiting eyes. After a bit of initial bumbling around i went upstairs to the world history section and spent some time reading up on Medieval and Celtic history and comparing multiple translations of Homer's the Odyssey. They were all extremely different, and that frustrated me. So i traveled elsewhere. I found myself in the "Tolkien section" as i call it, for there are nealrly 4 shelves dedicated to his writings and i drooled over the many gorgeous hardcover books of his fantastical history that i would one day own! But not that day. So i journeyed elsewhere and found myself staring at the thick, colorful array of art books. I scoured the shelves for a good publication of Mucha's artwork...but found none; to my utter disappointment. I should write a letter. Frustrated a second time, i left to seek my fortune once again. I made my way downstairs to the language section where looking through books on German verbs and Irish grammar always prove to be of giddying fun for me...despite the fact i can hardly understand what i'm doing. i'm so bizarre!
To say i left the store empty-handed would be a falsity, as i left with a rich desire to go back again. Which won't take too long! Besides, i was saving my meager funds for another adventure that evening...Amoeba!

I finally ecsaped my grandparents house around 5:45...later than i needed to as i had to make my grandparents an impromptu dinner before i left. As i pulled out of the driveway i checked the maiI...and i saw it.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind! It came!!! I ripped open the cardboard packaging and almost drooled. No not It's one of the most strangely uniquely beautiful films i've ever seen...I remember i wished at first that there were more like it, but now I'm glad there are not because it makes it all the more wonderful. I pulled out of the driveway a much happier person than i was all of one minute before. Which was fortunate.

I got to Kristina's house at about 6 o'clock. Half-hour late. I arrived just in time to watch the Presidential debate with her, which, of couse, was very entertaining. Just look at the two contrasting characters we have scrappling for the same office! I won't get into that now. I'll probably never talk about polotics on this blog. The most that i'll ever contribute to our current political circus is my right to vote.
Anyway, we watched the debate, and she then put in a bizarre anime series that she said, of herself, that "lots of people told me i should see". After 2 episodes, i was practiclly begging for her to turn it off. She heartily agreed. I'll just let you finish it on your own time, Stina! We talked, looked at pictures, discussed Oktoberfest on Saturday, laughed at some videos from our summer trip to Sedona...
Pip arrived a little after 9:30 and was offered a casset tape of the Dave Matthews Band by (Kristina's sister) Rebekka. Needless to say he was less than elated to take it off her hands. (why did you even take it??) And so we where off to Hollywood! We got there at about 10:00 and parked in the Arclight structure. As we walked through the courtyard outside the theatre, we noticed that there was some kind of film festival going on...the Silverlake Film Festival, to be exact. It was tempting to try and get in, but at the lack of our swanky dress, we decided against it. Besides, Amoeba closed at 11. And no, we didn't see any famous people. Actually, i don't think i've ever seen a celebrity in Hollywood before. hm.

Once inside the mammoth building that is Amoeba, i pulled out my lovely little scrawled list of CD's i was to look for. I thought ahead this time! I usually go there so unprepared i become a bit overwhelmed...but this time i had a plan. mwahaha...
We left the store as it closed it's doors...K & P with their own found items, me with 3 new CD's. The Pixies (who i'm very interested in right now), Cat Stevens (despite his recent...mishaps), and Elliot Smith's record XO. Great album.
Pip decided to take the scenic route home...and we got a little lost. Which is okay on a beautiful cool night with good new music to listen to. When we pulled up at Kristina's house, Pip turned off his car, we all prayed together and then parted ways.
I didn't listen to any music as i drove back to the house. i just thought.
I drove into the driveway around midnight and quietly got out of he car. I walked through the front door and went to the back of the house to find my dad watching the news, my mom shuffling aroud in the attic, and Sarah reading in bed. No need to be too quiet i guess! My grandparents can't hear anything anyway. So...
I talked to my mom.
I argued with my sister.
I showered.
Did some stuff.
And went to bed around 2.
aaaaah, sleep!

Tuesday, September 28

2 minutes to spare!

My art center professor just said.
I'm going to go get my assignment back now. I wonder what i got...
9/10. not too bad. Maybe i can re-do.

Last night i dreamt...

This morning is the first morning in a long time that i can remember enough of a dream to write it down. Last night i had a bunch of dreams. One was intensely terrifying, another one was wacked-out...this one was just...hmmm.

I don't remember if there was anything that led up to this, but all i know is that suddenly i was in Andrew's USC apartment...except it was Sarah and my's bedroom; and it was bigger; and there were art supplies and little weird watercolor paintings everywhere. The paintings were of simple figures, dancing on muted backgrounds with slashes of paint strategically disrupting the mellow colors. As i fiddled around the room, I tried to write some music on a program on his computer that, very strangely, featured Homestar characters as the program hosts or mascots or whatever. Maybe because Sarah was looking at Strongbad e-mails last night...
Anyway, for some reason or another, i went over to the sink (yes, in my dream there was a sink in the room). It was extremely dirty with paint and shavings and the like, and i searched the small shelf above it where i saw one of those paintings of a girl in a long dress twirling against a soft rusty orange background with streaks of olive green splashed onto it. Next to the painting there was a flyer, i'm assuming, for one of those AGO get-togethers. The only part of the flyer i can remember is a small section where, for some reason, someone had written some Morrissey lyrics. Not real ones, of course, my brain made them up. It was remembering the lyrics when i woke up that made me remember the dream. I can't even remember all of them. I only recall one section of the lines, and so it's a bit out of context, i'm sure; but here they are:
Will Jesus be there?
I've lost another Jewish Ramone.

I reeeeally wish i could remember the rest. Anyway, that's all. I thought people would find it at least a little bit interesting.

Monday, September 27

"I wonder what it would be like to be that pretty?"

Sarah asked out loud, and held up a picture of a model/actress in the new issue of a magazine i recieve.
I only needed a moment to glance at it, as i'd already flipped through the pages and had already examined the article she was referring to. Yea, she was a beautiful model. Nice skin, nice hair, skinny, toned, blah blah blah...
And in all truthfulness, i have a weakness for my sister's unique beauty. Sorry, but i'm a very biased critic. Frankly, i was surprised she even posed the question/statement to me, because part of me finds it hard to believe that she thought i would actually agree with her and say something like "oh yea, i know. she's much prettier than you." I could see what was coming, i'd seen it a thousand times.
So after about 2 or 3 seconds i said, in all honesty, "I think you're that pretty."
I.....guess that was the wrong thing to say. And so ensued one of the more pointless, frustrating and superficial arguments i have had to date with my sister. And that's saying something.
I guess it just bothers me that she's so caught up with obsessing over something that she need not...because she's amazingly beautiful. I tried to explain to her that if she was stood next to that girl in a room full of people not 99% would choose the other girl as being the prettier one (as she said would happen). I tried to explain to her that there is no such thing as a girl whom *everyone* is attracted to. That she was freaking me out because of how determined she was to get me to "understand" her (aka agree wih her).
My sister's complaining about her looks is about the equivalent, to me, of...say if my parents were always complaining about what terrible artists they are. All i would do is look at what i had and say, "crap, nothing i have is as good as theirs, and if they despise what they have, what does that make what i've got?"
Maybe my own feelings are what are twisted. I dunno. It just makes me sad.

Sunday, September 26

It was late. Everyone else had left at least an hour, or two, or three ago. They were tired, and there are only so many times you can listen to "Surfer Rosa" on Vinyl. What was there to do? She knew she had to do something. Her mind seemed to reel for ages that went by in a split second. Sofia was never one to play tricks on people. But there was something about the way he suddenly looked at her that forced her to do the first thing that jumped into her mind. So she pulled him forward and kissed him. As she began to relax she closed her eyes; and that was when he pushed her away.

He knew that she was impulsive, but so far the worst she had done to him was merely knocking hot coffee into his lap (on purpose of course), or a swift punch in his gut. She even popped one of his tires with the heel of her shoe once when he refused to come with her to a show at the Knitting Factory. Even then, they could laugh it off and all would be well. She never apologized...she didn't have to. If she did, her actions would have meant something. They never had...

This was different, however, as laughter seemed to be cruel, yet anger was useless and words were empty...embarassment replaced all of these and filled them up in places where even an awkward understanding would have done some good. Despite all this, their eyes remained locked onto each other's, and it seemed like forever until the silence was broken by Sofia's quiet murmur of "I'm sorry".

Saturday, September 25

Ed' i'ear ar' elenea!

i'm such a geek.
so exciting. ringer party, anyone?

i'm most excited about this, though...

there! i'm finished! so sorry to subject you to that.

Wednesday, September 22

They wanted to hear that Sound

As always, i've been thinking a lot about music lately.
Music is something that defines me, in a lot of ways. Perhaps that is why i'm so very particular about it. I only listen to artists that are consisnent in their production of good, solid, meaningful music. I'm highly skeptical and grossly snobbish about one-hit wonders and superficial lyrics. A good record, to me, is one that i can listen to all the way through without skipping a bunch of the songs. Perhaps i've missed out on some "pretty good stuff."
I'll live.
I'm one of the last people on earth who shout spout off on a pretentious speel about what music is worthwhile and what isn' i think i'll just end that segment there.

Collecting songs for a theme CD is an art i am relatively new to...and growing more and more obsessed with. I recently burned a mix of songs for my sister to listen to while she takes her naps. I picked songs from a variety of artists like Radiohead (of course), Sigur Ros, Nico, Smashing Pumpkins, some Enya (we grew up with it), some old Foo Fighters, Death in Vegas...and a few others. I will say, it was most enjoyable. I don't even have to be napping to listen no it! ha ha!

A CD in progress is one i'm working on as a "soundtrack" to a screenplay/film in my crazy head. What's interesting...and a bit strange is how the songs are turning into somewhat of a soundtrack to what my own emotional and mental state is at the moment. Very curious. Searching for the perfect songs for this is much more challenging, and more rewarding. So far, at least, as i've got about 6 or 7 songs that i would have never otherwise grouped together but for this very idea i have...and it's turning into quite an awesome mix! As you can see, i'm very excited about it. When it's done (if that day ever comes), perhaps i'll post it here.
Oder, viellecht nicht...
One thing i like about the latter CD "Project", is that it's making me branch out a bit more, get a bit braver...and it's been both a surprisingly plesant, yet at times disappointing journey.
Don't you hate it when you go out on a limb and buy a CD and it turns out to be not nearly as good as you hoped? And then you swear to yourself that "never again will i take a chance on something i'm unsure of and therefore depreive myself of a CD that i know i would have enjoyed"!!!
On the other hand, don't you love it when you buy a new CD, or discover a new band, and not only is is's amazing. It's different, it's inspiring, and you feel so proud of yourself!
I'm still on a bit of a high after the last couple of show's i've been to; a Sufjan Stevens show, and on Friday, some friends and i went and saw Br Danielson and Half-Handed Cloud. Two extremely refreshing and lovely shows, for a number of reasons i may discuss later. Needless to say, it's been to discover new musical artists to enjoy!
It gives me a bit of hope that there are still other groups out there to discover, or even ones i know about, yet haven't "Gotten into". And i look forward to that.

I'm not even sure why i wrote's just nice to clear some stuff out of my head and leave room for "more important" things i should be thinking about. Psssshhhh. whatever.
ha ha ha
Also, it's a nice break from the theme i've seen developing in my recent 10 posts or so.
I just read back over this...and it's hilarious how pretentious i actually did end up sounding. Pretty silly too. oh well. i'm slowly learning not to take myself too seriously...
On that note, please don't take me too seriously. i'm weird.
Gots to go to work.

Sunday, September 19

This Morning

White noise hushes footsteps
Dim light summons drowsiness
As quietly i creep along pristine boards
past pink and scarlett rosebuds
A silent breath comes through the open windows
billowing the curtains
chilly and exciting
Sunlight splashes on the pure white comforter
cutting the cool darkness
a strip of light across her face
upon her red gold greying hair
stirring in the soundless flow
She sleeps so soundly
Breathes so deeply
Curled so tightly
she's a little girl again
Were she my own child i might stroke her face
and kiss her temple
as she did to me
And yet i stay my hand
to wake her would be cruel
and so i steal away
swallowing tears
chasteining my fears and doubting
I am not a little girl
i can't always be this way
I will always be this way
While there's ever life in me
I'll be so glad she's home
I am so glad she's home.

Thursday, September 16

And Now...

Pearls of Wisdom from Dr. and Mrs. Kieffer!!!

-Deuce Bigalo Male Gigolo is a horrible movie...but it's fascinating!

-The best place to buy a new bed is from your favorite hotel.

-Pip sounds like a very shady character.

-The louder the TV is, the louder you can yell at each other!!!

-The more magazines you can subscribe to, the better.

-Oprah is just the neatest lady!

-"If it's not one thing, it's the same thing."

Until next time...take care of yourselves, folks and heed the words of your elders!

Wednesday, September 15

Celestial Snow

I'd like to take this moment just
to bring to light a little plight;
Perhaps one can gain some insight
from a quite familiar fight,
that we all go we must.

"I've grown up with so much truth, wisdom, and grace that if I were to ever get to a point where I couldn't recognize what real life is then I might as well hand over my salvation to the enemy. I've seen the power of the Lord at work in my own life and many others. I felt it, heard it, seen it! So why am I unable to carry on!? What's my reason for not being able to go out and achieve the responsibility for what Christ has called me to? I mean especially when life on this earth is nothing compared to eternity. Like I want to be the one who is on the outskirts! May that never be the case! Yet I still cannot get over this heavy weight... I don't know if it is because I haven't been willing to give it to the Lord, or i am not walking with the hope I should be walking in, or I see myself as insignificant so I just decide to stay that way, or I fear my own nature and man more than I fear the Lord. If the Lord could make snow fall from the sky right now and I could take that as a sign of the rapture then none of this would even matter. I guess I need more of His grace than I think I do. I don't know. Celestial snow would be pretty awesome though. Especially if it was purple to signify the Lord's royalty. Maybe I'm just a little too abstract."


Tuesday, September 14

There are times when i wish my dad could run smack into his own face.

Monday, September 13

I guess i should have sensed it in the air...

I was about to leave for work, in a bit of a hurry, and trying to take care of 3 things at once. Poor Beau had been inside all day every day for the last couple of weeks because of the heat, except to go to the bathroom or for the occasional frizbee toss. Not to mention the fact that grandpa seems to think that Beau can't be left alone outside for more than 5 minutes and is constantly calling him in. In the house he's always sure he's in the same room. If he can't see Beau he'll walk around calling him until he finds him, "Come on, Beau old boy, come over here."
Today was the first day it began to cool down, just a little bit, around 5 in the evening. Naturally, the dog should be outside...or so i thought.
And thus our fateful tale begins...

As she ran towards the front door, bags and younger sister in tow, she realized that the dog was still inside the stuffy smelly house. Loyally lying on the floor next to grandpa's chair, Colleen called him to get up. In a hurried voice she said,
"You know what? I'm going to put Beau out because he's not out enough and it's really nice outside."
As if someone had suggested giving him a lobotomy, her grandpa whipped around in his chair and waved his hand at her.
"No no no! He's fine leave him alone!"
"Grandpa he needs to be out more, he's inside way too much--"
Pointing at her with such force that his whole body lurched with his arm, he exclaimed, "NO NO NO! You leave him here!! I can take care of him God damn it!"
Not willing to give in she continued amidst his cries to the back door, "He needs to be out, grandpa, he's been hanging around the door all day," and she put Beau outside.
"How dare...DON"T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!!!" He stuttered. " Jesus, that girl really get's on my nerves...!"
Fuming, yet refusing for once to engage, she called to him, "Well, you can be happy then because you'll be rid of me. I'm leaving." And she walked out of the kitchen.
Still seated, red-faced in his chair, he snapped as she walked past him, "GOOD! I'm GLAD to get rid of you when you act like that!!!"
He continued to yell as she approached the door, drowning out his wife's cries of protest.
Shaking, she opened it, let Sarah out and called to him, "Thank you grandpa, I love you."
"SHUT UP!!!!!"
And she closed the door behind her.

Saturday, September 11

Lover's Spat

He heaved a weary sigh as he dropped himself into his chair at the dining room table. It was so hot outside and yet he was chilly enough in the house to be wearing a sweater; a result of the peculiar preferences of his obstinate son-in-law and ungrateful grandchildren. His wife sat just around the corner at the table next to him, still wearing her apron from breakfast 3 hours ago. As he looked searchingly around the surface before him, his weak eyes percieved a mess of piles and clutter that instantly frustrated him.
"What is all this, Mary?"
"Bills, John," she answered him absentmindedly. Her hand was shaking so terribly that she could hardly hold the envelope she was trying to open.
"Bills, John, bills!" She said forcefully. "I've been going throught them all morning!"
"Well it's about time someone did," he grunted, shuffling papers all over the table. "There's too much stuff here all the time. Look at all this stuff!"
"Oh, John stop it you're messing up everything."
"I am not---What are you going to do with all this??"
"I'm trying to take care of it so Carol doesn't have to when she comes back."
"John, she's so busy! She has work, and she's been gone, and she'll have so much to do when she gets home..."
"But why are you doing it?"
"Because she's going to have all this to take care of when she get's back, along with everything else she has to do-"
"Well that's her problem."
"Yes, I suppose it is. I'm just trying to get it done for her."
He sighed. "Why?"
"Because, John, she's been gone for so long, and she'll be so tired-"
"I just don't see why you're doing this."
"I'm just trying to help. I used to do all of this for you when I could. I did all the secretarial work."
"And she had to go and take off..."
"John, she's working!! She works so hard, and she's going to have jet lag; horrible jet lag. I don't think you have any idea what that's like!"
He sighed again. "Oh nuts. Nuts to everyone."
"John stop it. Say something nice, will you?"
There was a pause. "I am nice," He replied. "All this crap. Look at all this crap!!!" And he began to rustle through the piles again.
"John, John...!" She exclaimed in a little half-laugh. As he began to chuckle, she regained herself and said sarcastically, "Ha ha."
"Ho ho ho," he said in a monotone voice. "Ho ho ho and a bottle of rum."
"Oh you're so funny."
He sat back with a grimace.
"I just don't know why you have to do anything about it."
"I don't, she just has so much to do."
"Then she shouldn't have gone off to Sydney!"
"But--John--she had to...!" She could hardly contain her agitation. "Damn it, John--John you're a fool right now, a fool!" Her petite frame trembled with pent-up frustration.
He merely gazed around the room. "You're not very nice to me, Mary," he said. "Not very nice at all."