Because I'm silly and passionate

Gosh darnnit, I’m fed up.

Okay, so there’s this really awesome series. It’s by a guy named Rick Riordan, it’s called Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and you’ve probably heard of it. It’s got modernized Greek Mythology, adventure, humor, excitement, and I love it to pieces. It’s been forever since I’ve touched anything from that series, but, jumping in on that final book, Mr. Riordan does an unbelievable job of catching me up. I could probably just read that one novel without any of the others and still get what’s going on. And it doesn’t feel repetitious even if you do remember what happened, because it’s like fond memories, calling back something you enjoyed a long time ago with a funny, dry twist to it in the narrative.

Anyhow, it’s a great book, it’s a great story, it’s great fun.

WHICH IS WHY THIS WHOLE THING IRKS ME SO MUCH.

There’s this character, who’s been there forever, who’s the romantic interest, who’s totally ending up with Percy no matter how any of us feel (though I’m getting the picture that people like her. I think I liked her too, ages ago. Before THE INCIDENT). Now I feel really weird about this, because I’ve adored the villains of a couple stories. I’ve relished in the messed up antiheroes. I’ve loved flaws that make a person cracked, but still leave them pure and lovely. But I hate Annabeth. I can’t stand her. She’s ruining the series for me, all because of one dumb thing she said when she was hurt and upset.

I wish Mr. Riordan had left romance out all together in this series (but kept the girls, ‘cause girls rock. Isn’t it weird how in general they only include girls in action series for the purpose of romance?). If he had, I wouldn’t be dealing with this trauma. Every second of the story that pretty grey eyed blonde takes up is a second I spend seething in animosity. And it’s not that I like the other girl better, though I guess I do (she introduces herself by her full name! Who does that? Who in the world introduces herself by her full name? Rachel Elizabeth Dare. The only person I know weird enough to do that is ME, which I guess makes me biased. But I want to make it VERY CLEAR that the reason I despise Annabeth has nothing to do with R.E.D.). It’s that Athena’s daughter hit my worst pet-peeve ever in literature, similar to the reason I resent Arya from Inheritance and elves in general in most stories (note I said most).

There’s this point, when Rachel and Percy and Annabeth are traveling together. Percy and Annabeth are demigods, meaning one of their parents was human, and one of them was a Greek God. Rachel’s a human, a mortal, and she likes Percy. Anna knows she likes Percy, and apparently Anna likes Percy too, even though she makes a point to insult and berate him all the time (I guess she’s nice enough otherwise, and the hate/love relationships can be cute when done properly, but really, I’m kind of getting bored when it comes to that). And there’s this point, where Annabeth says – ‘She’s just a mortal’ in this horrible tone, and I quote, “She said ‘mortal’ like it was some kind of disease”.

Excuse me. But last time I checked, I’m mortal, and I’m the one reading this bleeding story. Last time I checked, mortals built the Great Wall of China, and invented airplanes, and rollercoasters, and wrote brilliant stories – oh, wait, were all those folks who did great things demigods too? Because apparently George Washington was, in this series. Sooooo… if you want to be a respectable, responsible, powerful and/or brilliant person you’ve got to have a parent who’s a god? And if that person doesn’t happen to have a parent who’s a god, what does that make this ‘mere mortal’? A pawn, on some great big chess board? A fleeting speck of dust to be flicked away on the wind? An incompetent, uncreative, stagnant, helpless nothing?

Right. They’re just a mortal.

So I’m overreacting. I’m way overreacting. But the thought, that someone’s parentage can make someone ‘better’ or ‘worse’ than someone else makes me feel sick. Whenever I read about Annabeth, whenever she shows up, I get this sour, bitter taste in my mouth and feel sick in my stomach. It’s ruining this brilliant story for me and honestly, honestly infuriating me.

I used to get confused when people went off on moral characters so passionately and vehemently, while sticking up for the rotten ones. Now I think I understand. I guess that moral character just hit that person’s ‘spot’ like Annabeth hit mine. She’s a cool enough character; tough, clever, not at all helpless. A little arrogant, I guess, because all heroes have to have a ‘fatal flaw’ (so hubris is hers), but a cool enough character. I think I remember liking her. It’s such a shame, really. Because I so love this series, but now, reading it, I feel like throwing up.

I want to wrap my fingers around her neck, squeeze, and ask her what she thinks of mortals now. And I don’t even feel guilty about it, which makes me a little worried.

Happy Halloween!

EDIT: GAH! Due to blogger craziness, the pictures and the text are totally out of sink. Each bit of text has a description, however, so you should be fine if you read and look carefully. Read on!
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Yippy! It’s the Day of the Dead, All Hallow’s Eve, that special day where people buy candy just to give it away. It’s like Christmas, only sweets instead of presents, and people give to strangers rather than those they know just to let kids have a good time. I think it’s a touching holiday, and a real fun one too, with all those fabulous costumes. I love picking them out and putting them together; it’s such a blast.

Since this year I won't be doing much for this special day, I thought I should post some dress-up memorabilia. I plan to be a Psycho-Ologist - or a Sinister Psychologist, or Lyla Alden, if you remember me ranting on her - this year, but you probably won't see pics until tomorrow. To tie you over, and for my own nostalgia's sake, here's every other year I ever dressed up:



Halloween, 1999, Dear Sister and I. I think we're supposed to be Barney and a Bumble bee, but who knows? The masks kind of throw me off.




Halloween 2003, Dear Sister as Alice in Wonderland and myself Super Man! Yippy!

A vampress and a mummy. Dear Sister's costume rocked this year, being 2004.

I went as a vampire for the second and last time, Dear Sister as a ghost. Isn't the blood a brilliant touch? And while I love sissy's hood, it's her killer expression that makes me want to drop dead. This is 2005.

Brother1's first time dressing up! At a year old, I believe, this is him as Super Baby. Dear Sister and I had AWESOME costumes this time around (we scared poor little kids on accident, they were so cool); me as a Ghost Bride, and she as a vampire in 2006. We switched our costumes from the last year, if you note.

Though I looked great as Medusa, the monster from Greek Mythology, getting the snakes out of my hair was a brutal, brutal memory I won't ever forget. But isn't Dear Sister just the cutest li'l witch you ever did see? She comes with a bumble bee, too!

You long-time readers should remember this one! My first Halloween on blogger, 2008, when I went as a Harpy (not a blackbird), again from Greek Mythology. Everyone else had chicken pox at the time (though I was soon to follow), so I was the only one who dressed up this time around.

This year ROCKED. Brother1 as Indiana Jones, myself as Anna Bolena, or Anne Boleyn, or Nan Bullen, Queen of England and my personal hero, Daddy as a Man in Black, Mommy as Donna Noble from Doctor Who, and Dear Sister as a Genie. Awesome, eh?

Myself, as Cinderella, last Halloween at 2009. This costume came out beautifully, I think, and that dress is one of my favorites.

That's it, I guess. Thanks for stopping by and reading - happy, happy, Halloween!

Family Matters

These are some characters I invented and know very, very well – Phoenix Shifter, the spunky sweet country girl who can spout fire at will, and Theodore Rosefelt, her grandfather the snarky farmer. He's also a vampire (Ted was converted after Phoenix was born, so she isn’t ‘part vampire’ or anything like that) who seems only 25 in appearance, so that leads to confusion. He's also rather childish in a bratty sort of way and half mad due to traumatic events. But oh well. I love them both to death and this is a quick glimpse into their family life before Phoenix grew up (which is when I normally write her). I probably won't ever make a real book about either character, but that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun, does it now? ;-)

---

It is a well known fact that animosity can kindle amongst even the happiest families – especially family by marriage (exempli gratia, the Red Headed Stepchild, the Wicked Stepmother, THE INLAWS(1)). However, when disaster strikes, even those who are less than cordially inclined with one another must band together – because, when it comes right down to it, they are family, and that’s all that really matters. Even when disaster is a lovesick firegirl who doesn’t know better.

“Theodore, I…” Emily curled her lips around her teeth, twisting her tongue and attempting to continue. The elder raised a brow at his daughter-in-law, sitting up on the counter of her(2) tiny kitchenette curiously. The family chef, mentally sighing in relief at the familiar ground and excuse to snap, fumed(3). “Get off the counters – what are you, six? Molly hasn’t been up there for years.”

Teddy – resisting temptation and avoiding conflict (only so he could get her to continue, of course) – slipped off the shelf. “Yes m’am. It’s sixty, actually. You were saying?” he answered flatly.

Sighing again – this time in anxiety – Emily continued. “I need your advice.”

The words hung in the air for a while.

“I’ll be glad to answer any questions of a parental nature,” Theo prodded. “I’ve dealt with three of the monstrous things, after all. Worse than vampires.”

“You’re telling me? Your children moved out years ago and made ones of their own. I’m the one dealing with the things. And by complaining about vampires you are complaining about yourself, aren’t you?”

“I can complain about myself if I want, can’t I? You wouldn’t believe how hard it is living with me.” Emily started to concede adamantly, but Ted interrupted. “You’re stalling.”

Another sigh. “Phoenix is…” she trailed off again, tugging angrily at her black locks in annoyance. “She’s…”

“Forgetting her chores?”

“Yes. But that’s not the causal issue. There’s more to it.”

“Do continue.”

“She’s also… singing, though that’s not the fact of the matter either.”

Teddy paled – as much as a vampire can pale, anyhow. He managed a purplish hue to his grayish skin. “Not singing. Not her.”

Right on cue, a loud, out of tune, more shout-like than musical chant reminiscent of a cat in a blender or nails on a chalk board echoed through the windows as fifteen year old Phoenix Shifter began skipping towards home from her father’s forge. Mother and grandfather flinched in the horrible racket.

“Go on,” he hissed through a scrunched face.

“It gets worse,” Emily assured. “She keeps Molly up all night talking.”

“That can’t really be avoided, can it?” Theodore put in. “They get on, they share a bed, Phoenix is a gabby young lady – of course they’ll talk. That’s not even close to as bad as her attempting to sing.”

“But she talks all night long. And that’s not the bad part – there’s a reason behind all of this. She only talks about – ”

“Carl!” Phoenix chimed, crashing through the front door with her arms spread wide and a foolish, loony grin plastered over her childish face. Being a teenager, having rounded features and small eyes didn’t really give the desired sense of maturity. The poor girl actually looked cute – a fact of which she was horribly aware. At least she had her fire. She would die if it weren’t for the dear flames Phoenix could somehow conjure at will – of that much she was certain.

“What now, girl?” Emily groaned.

“He smiled at me yesterday, Mommy! He smiled!” the young girl’s arms swept across her heart as she goggled at the thatched roof none too far above her grandfather’s head. Then she noticed her grandfather’s head. “Hi there, Gramps!”

Theodore, having the self restraint to keep his jaw up, gaped with the sheer incredulousness of his eyes alone. They flicked to Emily, who cocked her head in affirmation. Even if that weren’t so, Phoenix’s emotions sprang out in an obnoxiously clear fashion loud enough for the vampires in the next kingdom to hear –let alone the grandfather who had been there her entire life.

His granddaughter was in love. His Emily Ana “Phoenix” Shifter (should be Rosefelt, the damn stubborn mother’s-last-name-taking child) was attracted to and dreamy over some boy who made her feel fluttery enough to sing. Being overprotective even of his son, the idea of his granddaughter – who seemed just yesterday to have been a little babe cooing at flickering fire – romantically attached to someone was sickening.

So you want her to stop spending time with this Carl boy? he asked his daughter-in-law with a quick tilt of the head (tolerating one another for years had its benefits).

Of course. But I’d prefer it if the girl would only get back on top of her chores; Molly and I can’t take care of everything ourselves(4), Emily conveyed crabbily, folding her arms and sticking out a hip as she glared at her daughter.

Phoenix dimmed in confusion, wondering why everyone wasn’t as happy as she was.

Teddy barely kept form rolling his eyes at his daughter-in-law’s narrow-mindedness, but he had more important things to think about. Like his granddaughter being in love. I’ve got it covered, then.

I just want advice. I can take care of this myself, Emily sniffed.

I’ve got it covered, he repeated with a quick nod.

In a flash he snapped up his Phoenix’s long red braid and pulled hard. His granddaughter called out angrily as he started dragging her across what passed for a room (it was far too tiny to be a living room or a kitchen OR a dining room, but the Shifter-Rosefelts used it for all three) towards the rickety door.

Emily’s eyes widened. “Release my daughter this instant, Theodore! I will not stand for horseplay in my house!”

“Fine them, Emily.” He slipped out the front entry – a shrieking, irate, fiery Phoenix in tow.

“You bloody monster- let me go- what are you doing?!- LET GO OF MY HAIR!” she screeched.

Theodore was about to roll his eyes when she flamed up, making him leap back. “Emily!” he called out, glaring at the blisters forming where her fire had licked his skin.

“UUUGH!!” Phoenix stomped, fists clenched. “Don’t you ever, ever, ever touch my hair again!”

Theodore, shaking off how unsettled the fire made him feel, managed a shrug. “I just wanted to tell you that I completely support your possible relationship with this Edward and you are very welcome, in my opinion, to spend time with him whenever. Oh, and your mother’s bugging me. Please skip your chores to annoy her,” he added.

“UUUGH!” Phoenix repeated, before stalking off angrily to weed her mother’s herbal garden. Before she made it, she whirled around: “And it’s Carl! The only Edward I know is stuck up and rude.” Reminds me of someone, she thought haughtily.

Teddy wiped off his hands in nervous satisfaction as she steamed away, wondering how many more times that trick would work before she (a) caught on or (b) burned him to a pile of ash. Because of this pondering, he missed the looming cloud of Emily until the hard slap hit his face, bringing him back to reality.

“I don’t know how you ran things in your family, but this is mine, Rosefelt, and I don’t care if you’re nineteen or a 102 - you will do as I say under my roof or with my children,” she snarled vehemently, glaring something terrible.

Theodore, one hand to his stinging cheek, wisely refrained from mentioning the two or three snide remarks bouncing around his head. Instead, he only pointed delicately to the literally fuming Phoenix doing her chores in the garden. Emily, not having the restraint of her father-in-law, dropped her jaw. She slapped him again before marching inside and slamming the door.

Ted found himself questioning his family’s taste in romantic partners, which eventually started him pondering whether or not Phoenix would ever forgive him if he scared this Carl out of town. Should be easy enough, with the teeth and all. That’s when, under the glint of lovely moonlight, quiet Christopher came out of his forge and started towards the garden.

“Hi, Dad,” he greeted softly.

“Our(5) Emily is in love.”

“I know. She was singing in the forge,” Christopher smiled. “You should listen to her talk about him. It sounds straight out of one of those romance novels my Emily always tells me about.”

“You’re all right with this atrocity?” Theodore blinked.

“Hell no. But it’s just a crush; it’ll pass.”

Teddy ran a hand through his scraggly red hair in annoyance. “Damn waiting. I hate waiting. They say you’re supposed to get patient with age. I just get this rushing feeling. Like I need to keep fighting because every second I have is something stolen, something I shouldn’t. Like I’m supposed to be dead and gone by now.”

“Lots of people live passed your age – immortal or not,” Chris assured gently, tinges of worry crossing his bearded face.

“I don’t want to die. I don’t plan on dying. Not ever, not if I can help it. Death is what I’m afraid of.”

“Daaaaaaaaa-dddddddddddddy!” wailed a voice from a nearby tiny window in Christopher’s tiny, tiny cottage. A pretty face framed with short black hair and bangs peered through the shutters, slightly panicked. “Daddy there’s a spider! And a cobweb!”

Christopher shrugged at his father, who managed a weak smile, before jogging off to the window to rescue his little Molly. Ted, taking a deep breath, trudged over to Phoenix with his hands in his pockets, mindful of Emily’s herbs (if only to keep from being slapped again).

“Hi, Phoenix,” he said, calling her by her preferred name to get on her good side. She shot him a nasty look and stuck out her tongue before continuing her work. He rolled his eyes before remembering what he came here for and sitting down beside her. “I’m a might mad. Not mad mad. Crazy mad. Due to that, I act a little oddly.”

“I know,” Phoenix grumbled.

He coughed awkwardly before shoving out the words as fast as possible. They mixed up and tumbled incomprehensibly, but it was supposed to be along the lines of: “I’m sorry for pulling your hair.”

She ignored him, flicking her red, orange, and golden hair (tied up in a loose braid) over her shoulder crabbily. He ruffled haughtily before continuing.

“But you did get it from me, didn’t you? So technically it’s mine,” Theo added flatly.

Phoenix shot upright from her weeding, scandalized. “I inherited my hair from my father, Grandpa! Not you.”

Teddy shrugged. “And he got it from me before that.”

“But it’s on my head!”

“Which you also got from me, judging by how stubborn you are.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes.

“And that, too,” Ted pointed out triumphantly. “I do that all the time.”

“I don’t go around pulling people’s hair.”

“You don’t, eh? I said I was sorry.”

She huffed. “I wouldn’t ever forgive you if your anniversary(6) wasn’t coming up. You get horrible then.” Ted shut up, folding his long fingers together as his eyes shot down. Phoenix sighed. “I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again.”

“Rosefelt! Phoenix!” Emily’s loud voice called. “The tarts are ready!”

Heads flipping to one another with excited grins, grandfather and granddaughter raced into the house and nearly knocked over the rickety nightstand that passed as a table in their hurry to sit. Emily sighed and served up the family – including Theodore, Phoenix, Molly, Christopher, and herself. Mouths watered until the woman of the house sat and took her first bite, allowing everyone else to dig into the pure delicacies.

“I simply love it, Mommy,” Molly cooed. Emily gave her daughter a quick smile.

“I think it’d be a bit better with a tad less sugar; it’s not quite tart enough for a tart,” Phoenix put in. “But it’s definitely divine.”

Emily glared at her eldest, Teddy and Christopher being too busy eating to talk.

Of course, looking back on the opening paragraph, sometimes families just go to hell no matter what you do. But they manage. Because in the end they’re family, and they’re stuck loving one another

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(1)No more need be said.

(2)Despite being built by Christopher’s own hands, there was absolutely zero doubt as to whether or not his wife was the soul wielder of anything with culinary uses – no matter how good Phoenix was getting.

(3)Not nearly so literally as her daughter could, however.

(4)Emily had an odd complex where she felt anything she didn’t see someone do was something they didn’t actually do (at least according to her subconscious). Christopher did all his work in the forge, Theodore did all his work in his fields, and Phoenix usually liked to help out the men of the household, while Molly did everything with her mother. Because of this, Emily came out thinking everyone besides herself and her youngest daughter were lazy do-nothings. This led to complications.

(5)Theodore had troubles with Phoenix’s nickname. Her name was Emily, even be it her mother’s as well. She should be called by it, gosh darnnit. So when he spoke possessively of an Emily, it was always his granddaughter, and whenever he spoke of the original Shifter – the one who had convinced his Emily to take on a foreign family name – it was 'your'.

(6)This would be another anniversary as a widower for Theodore. He was immortal, yes, but the one woman he ever loved hadn’t been.

My First Dance

Last Sunday night just me and I went to a homeschool costume dance together (to clear up any false assumptions, I'll tell you now that we're JUST FRIENDS); Dear Sister would have come with us, but she isn't quite old enough yet.

Eventually we had fun... but at first I really didn't know what to do, the music was deafening, I kept tripping on my skirt, we didn't like any of the songs, we weren't allowed to go outside (to ESCAPE the noise and commotion!!!) if we wanted to come back in, and my hair fell out the moment a good song started to play(of course it was BEFORE we remember to get our pictures taken).

So my hair is a bird's nest, I'm feeling nausious from the "dancing" and we're both bored and a little lonely. We decided to get our pictures taken (for five dollars) before my costume got any messier, and we did--the lady was very nice and she said my smile was pretty, which made me feel good, though even now I'm sad about my hair. We still didn't want to go back up (anything to keep away from that noise), and we THEN found the room...

It was light peach and pink, with two cozy chairs and a vanity with a cushioned pink bench. There the music wasn't quite so loud, and even though we weren't allowed to keep the door closed (why, I have no clue), it was still a wonderful escape away from the ruccus.

Anyhow, I got the pins out of my hair, we chatted for a bit, then he went up when he heard a song he liked, while I braided my hair (without a hair-dooly-bopper) and pinned it (with the pins from my old hair-do) to the nape of my neck. It actually looked kind of pretty. I then followed him upstairs, and we had quite a bit more fun after that, going back and forth from dancing and eating grapes (me), oreos and punch (just me).

On our way upstairs we ran into someone who's makeup was done wonderfully to look like a skull. It was terribly frightening. Anyhow, he stopped just me and asked if they knew each other. Just me said...

"Well, I can't really tell..." then gestured to his makeup. I could empathise.

"Oh... yeah..."

Their discussion afterwards was really very, very humorous and I couldn't help but laugh as they speculated as to how they could possibly know one another. Eventually just me acknowledged that they must have seen each other at some point. It ended like this:

"Well, we know each other..."

"We don't know from where..." (just me)

"But we know each other! It was good to see you again!"

"You too!"

Later just me and I discussed who to vote for in the competitions (scariest, best make-up, craziest, prettiest,... and I think the last one was 'most creative'). I didn't vote, but gave advice to him on his choices(later two of the people we voted for actually won! It was pretty cool). I then looked behind me and saw a girl with a cute, short haircut, and I wasn't quite sure what she was dressed up as. I got closer to her, and then I noticed the 'blood' all over her and the bloody gash on her neck.

I talked to her for a little bit, and it turns out we both have the same name! I introduced her to just me and she introduced us to her friends and it got a lot more fun after that, because dances are just more fun with more people.

I entered a dance contest (just by dancing in the circle of people) for 'most original dance move' and did a few double pirouettes and developes because my arthritis was really good that day (of course, after I did that I could hardly move... so maybe it wasn't so good after all. And even that day I couldn't jump... it's been a while since I could jump). I didn't win, but it was fun, and just me and I decided we'd have to choreograph something with a bunch more people for next time.

We went to the room (which I mentally called 'The Escape Room') a couple times, running into the girl who shares my name and her friend and hanging out with them for the rest of the time.

We did the macarana, danced some more, they played Chasing Cars (one of my all time favorite songs!!!) and the Beetles (which just me apparently loves) and had a DJ contest. I requested Because the Night (another of my all time favorite songs), though they didn't have it by the right artist.

I warn you, I probably got the order of many of these events off because that night, when I look back on it, really is quite a blur. During the last 20 minutes of the drive home just me and I wrote the following poem:

The night was dark,

With ne'er a spark,

The wind it tossed and howled,

The birds came down,

Without word,

And the world was silent,

Then came the knight,

Of the white light,

Who called forth the sun,

The sun then said,

Gold and Red,

"At last the world is lightened."

When I got home it turns out my sibling had missed me so much (and had been so bored) that they made me a card! It was lovely, and they even cut out a sunflower and stuck it on the inside! Both Brother1&2 "drew" inside it, and I absolutely loved it! Anyhow, I said goodbye to just me and his mother, went to bed and promptly slept in to an hour I am, quite frankly, too embarrassed to mention.

Go to the top to see some pictures of me before I left (with my hair done-up). I was Cinderella, and just me was a Gambler/High Roller. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of him dressed up, or of the girl who shares my name and her friend.

So, boring at first, but later lodes of fun!

Happy Halloween!

Galaxy

P.S. This is a nice follow-up to my pathetically short posts, eh?

I have decided!

Yes, everyone, I at last know what I'm going to be for Halloween!

Not a Fairy... (I was one when I was six)

Not a Vampire... (did that... twice)

Not a Witch... (too cliche)

Not Medusa... (honestly, getting the snakes out of my hair was worse then getting my hair up for a ballet recital. That's saying something. I am never doing that AGAIN!)

Not a Harpy... (I was that last year)

Not a Ghost... well, actually, I am a ghost, but a bit more specific...

I will be The Ghost of Anne Boleyn!

You probably know who she is, but I didn't until I read Shakespeare's Secret (which was fairly recently) so I'll just say a few things about her:

She was the second wife of King Henry VIII (the 8th), mother to Queen Elizabeth I (the first), and was beheaded for adultery to the King. Whether or not those charges were true is under speculation... there really isn't a way to know for sure. Supposedly she was cheating on King Henry with five different men (it might have been four... I am uncertain), one of which was her brother (rather weird, right?). All of them (one might have been spared, but I'm pretty sure all of them) were beheaded. Including Anne.
Probably the main reason for her execution was that she never gave birth to a boy, just one girl, Elizabeth. She did get pregnant at least one other time, but the children never made it.

King Henry had four other wives after Anne, and one before. He had three children together, a daughter named Mary (with his first wife, Catherine of Aragon--how do you spell that? I ), Elizabeth (Anne Boleyn's girl, who only saw her mother in her youngest years), and a boy, Edward (can't remember his mom. I get them confused) and three of his six wives were named Catherine (though they differed on the spelling).

I've liked Anne since I first read about her... she seemed smart, kind and brave to me from what I know about her. I think it will be a lot of fun to be her ghost for this Halloween, and I plan to do a big bloody gash on my neck where my head had been 'chopped off'.


Galaxy

P.S. I'm not really certain of what kind of costume I'll wear, so suggestions would be much appreciated!!!

Vampires in the Doctors Office

I have been having some awful joint pain since about July 7th. I have to hobble around instead of walking, and even that hurts!
Anyway, we decided to go see my doctor and he came up with a couple ideas of what could be wrong... and he also said I needed to get my blood drawn.


So I go to the blood draining place and talk to the vampires there. Somehow I couldn't think of them as anything else, hehe. They were nice enough, but of course I had to wait 'a couple minutes' before I could have it drawn (for my first time, by the way). It has been my observation that everyone in the Doctor's office just loves making people wait and take every chance to do so.


So after a bit longer than a couple minutes of waiting I am sitting in this padded 'bench' with a deskish thing in front of me. My Vampire feels around my arm and starts trying to find my 'biggest one', I assumed she was talking about blood vessels. She then starts to clean the area she's about to draw my blood from with some alcohol. It felt really weird.

And then it's time. I looked at the pictures of sea turtles on my right as my Vampire sticks a needle in my 'biggest one'--I just didn't want to see her put it in, and was sure I'd chicken out if I did. I felt a sting as the needle entered me. I waited a bit before finally turning to see little needle going into my skin, and out of the needle came a long cord going into a huge vile with a bit of my blood... *shudder* The cord touched parts of my arm and I felt the heat of my blood through it... All the sudden I felt a little faint and woozy.
Then I ask:

"How much do you have to fill?" partly to know how much longer I must feel that stinging, which felt a bit like someone was pinching you with their nails, and partly to know how much more blood I was going to loose. If she filled that whole vile I was sure I was going to pass out.
"The whole thing."
(Galaxy's thoughts) Are you kidding me?!!?!?!??!?!?!??!?!?
(what Galaxy actually says) "That's a lot!"
"It's three table spoons of blood," she said that with emphasis on the word blood. "It looks like a lot but it really isn't."

That's her talking.

I was glad Mommy was there.

Anyway, it was at last done and she pulled it out and placed a cotton ball where the needle went, then wrapped this purple bandagy thing around it. I still stung a little, and I was still a bit woozy, but somehow I stayed conscious. Finally, I get home and beg Mommy to make me a Cherry Carob smoothie (a.k.a. 'a Cherub'). I think she will, but I'm not certain.

So there's the story of how I got my first blood draining! Hope you enjoyed my post!


Galaxy