Today wasn't fun. And for once in a long while, it had nothing to do with issues at work. About an hour into work I got an e-mail from Jess (oldest little sister) telling me that my youngest sister Layla's mother (Robin) had died. I freaked out and swore, but luckily there were no customers around, so my boss just shrugged it off. I was instantly worried about Layla. I went into the back room and called mom, and she told me that she didn't have a lot of information, but that they were working on it.

Later on I got some more information. Apparently Robin's death wasn't recent. She passed away on May 31st in the hospital. We didn't know about it because Robin's former boyfriend didn't want anyone to know, because he knew that if people found out that and orphaned minor was living in a house with some man who was neither related to her nor legally her guardian (and some other woman who moved in to Robin's house with him), Child Protective Services would get involved. And as long as Layla lived there with them, they would continue to collect the social security checks that Layla has been receiving since her father's death.

Already I didn't like the idea living with these two people who are complete strangers to me, and the more I have thought about that situation, I become simultaneously more angry with them, and more heartbroken for Layla. They told her not to tell anyone about her mom. Her mother died, and she couldn't talk to anyone about it! She just had to carry on with her life as though nothing had happened. After all she's been through in her life. Her father's death, her mother's drug use and psychosis, her brother's death, and now her mother dies and she is forced to hide it. At a time when she needed love and comfort and support more than anything, she was forced to keep her pain to herself and suffer alone. I can scarcely bare to think about it. It makes me ill just to think that I wasn't there when Layla needed me most. None of us were there. These two people kept Layla isolated from us. We had no idea until their neighbor finally found out what happened today and went straight to see Rachel (my middle-little sister) at work to tell her. I want to hate them. I want to hurt them for what they did. I want to break their noses and punch them in the chest until they can't breath for leaving Layla to suffocate in her anguish. But I can't. I'm too much of a coward to hurt anyone. I'm angry, but I'm too soft to hate. I can't hate them because Layla cares about them. She loved her mother, and she loves these two people, and she does what they say because she's just a good little girl who wants to be loved in return, craves approval and doesn't want to disappoint.

I spent most of the day at work checking my e-mail every chance I got. Checking my phone every couple minutes in case someone had called and I missed it. I was anxious for any update on the situation. I got a few sporadic bits of information throughout the day. Enough to put the picture together and make me fret and rage alternately all day long. Eventually mom called and informed me that she and Rachel had Layla, and they were in the process of filing for Rachel to get custody of her. So as of this moment, Rachel has custody of Layla. Unless something goes wrong with the paperwork or something, I think it's going to stay that way. It sucks that Rachel now has to have the added stress of being the legal guardian for her 14-year-old sister at the age of 24, but I think it will be for the best. Rachel is an amazing person, and I think she relates better to Layla than the rest of us most of the time. I'm sure being with Rachel will help her a lot, but I hope I'll get to see Layla soon. I just want to hug her and let her know how much I love her.

Eventually I got off work, and when I came home Mom, Jess, Eric (my big brother) and Crystal (my sister-in-law) were all there, and we all had a nice long ranting session. Then we went to the store and bought a pile of food and engaged in some intensive stress eating. Now I'm going to go to bed because I have opening shift tomorrow, I'm exhausted, and I have a headache.

SO! Today was my last day of work before my VACATION!!! Going to California to chill with Holly and Ellen for an entire week! WOO!! I'm excited about it.

However, today was a freaking awful day at work. Seriously. I was so upset that, had I eaten my lunch, I would have thrown up.

Had to go in early for a meeting, and after the meeting, but before we opened, my boss called me into his office to talk to me. He informed me that, because of the fact that I made a few mistakes recently which caused my drawer to be short (3 separate incidents which totaled $190. Inexcusable, stupid mistakes where I'd typed the wrong number into the program, and as a result ended up giving the customer too much cash back.) in combination with my historically terrible mystery shop scores, and the fact that I cursed in front of a customer (the last time my drawer came up short, when I realized the mistake I'd made, I was so angry with myself that I cursed, not realizing that there was a customer standing a few stations over.) someone from HR was going to come and "have a conversation" with me. Usually when this particular person from HR comes, it means that the individual they're coming to talk to is going to be fired on the spot. So I asked my boss to just tell me now if I'm going to be fired, so I can just go home instead of stressing over it all day. He had me sit down and told me that, what it comes down to is that I have the option to either resign, or sign a disciplinary agreement and continue working in a 30 day zero-tolerance probationary period. Apparently the only reason I wasn't fired months ago, and why I was not being straight-up terminated now is because my boss likes me and knows that I am trying. He said he knows that my personality is pretty much completely at odds with what is expected of a teller in my position in terms sales and customer-interaction. Not that I'm not a nice person or whatever, but my shyness and discomfort with strangers makes it really difficult for me. But even so, he said that I have made a lot of progress in that regard, but he feels like it's a struggle, and he doesn't want me to have to stay in a position where I constantly fight with my own nature and instincts in an attempt to do what is expected of me. I was repeatedly assured that it isn't that I don't have many admirable qualities, but rather that he thinks that my current job "isn't a good fit" for me.

So, I'm not officially fired, but essentially I have about a month to find a new job before I my employment will be terminated. As much as I complain about my job, it still sucks to be forced out of it. It's disheartening, to say the least, to put so much effort into trying to do what is expected of you only to fail miserably time and time again. I can't help but feel completely worthless.

I'm supposed to take my vacation time to "consider my options" and decide ultimately whether want to resign or attempt to get through the 30 day zero-tolerance probationary period (which will most likely end in termination). Honestly, I'm going to do my best not to think about any of this crap while I'm on my vacation. I want to have fun, not spend the whole time stressing.

Screw it all. I just wanna' have fun on my vacation.

Sooooooooo, I got my final written warning today at work. If my mystery shop scores don't show major improvement by the end of February, I will be fired. My boss seemed to be almost as upset as I was to be having that conversation. He acknowledged all the extra operations work that I do, and he really appreciates everything I do at work. Apparently every time he has to talk to HR and his bosses about me he tells them that I work my ass off and that I do a really good job, but the problem is that, at our bank, none of that stuff counts for shit if I'm shy, don't make eye-contact, lack confidence, seem "unfriendly", and generally don't seem insanely happy to be at work. So basically, I gotta' get my ass in gear and get another job lined up so I can just give my two weeks notice when my mystery shop results inevitably suck next month. I can save my boss the trouble of firing me, and I can save myself the humiliation. I don't know what more I can do. I've been trying, but DAMNIT! I don't LIKE to make eye-contact with strangers! I don't like talking to people I don't know! It makes me nervous and uncomfortable, especially when I know I'm supposed to try to sell them something and they don't want to hear it. But I TRY! I try to smile and make eye-contact and be chatty, but it apparently isn't enough. Apparently I'm just extremely unlikeable. I don't know how I'm supposed to fix that. I don't know how to make people like me. So I'm going to lose my job. It sucks and it's unfair, but hey, life's not fair and sometimes it sucks. The end.

Okay, so here's some crap that happened.

I'm like two steps away from getting fired from the bank. An important (apparently the most important) part of my job is "mystery shop scores." That's where a certain few bank customers who come in grade us on our performance and their overall banking experience. Any score below a 90% is considered an unacceptable score. Since I started working at the bank, I've only had 1 score over 90%, and most of my scores have been in the 70s or lower.

The shoppers' complaints about me have been: didn't make enough eye-contact, seems nervous, lacks confidence, looks down a lot, didn't make a positive statement, is quiet, lacks enthusiasm, etc...

After several months of bad scores, my boss finally couldn't make excuses for me anymore and had to give me a written warning. He had to pull me into his office and have a meeting about it and everything. After that, I had to go sit in the back room and cry for a half-hour or so because I felt like a useless piece of crap. I don't know what the hell they expect of me. As far as I can tell I'm being perfectly pleasant when I'm dealing with the customers, but apparently I just don't know how to interact with other human beings. I apparently exceed expectations in all other aspects of my job, but all that doesn't count for crap if I can't get 90% on mystery shops. Our branch has the lowest mystery show percentage in the entire bank, and it's all because of me.

A few days later my boss pulled me into the back room to have me do service-manager stuff, cause the service manager had the day off. So he shows me what to do, and we have a short conversation that went something like this:

Boss: ...Okay? Great. You know, there's a reason I have you back here doing this stuff.
Me: Is it 'cause I'm obsessive compulsive?
Boss: ...yes.
Me: *lol*
Boss: Well, you pay attention to details, and that's important. ...Oh, and I just wanted to say... Bravo. I've seen you with the customers lately, and you've been doing great. I can tell you're making an effort, and you wanna' do a good job, and you've been doing great. And... just so you know, about the other day... that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do as a manager. I know how much it bugs you, and you wanna' do a good job. You're really trying, and I can tell. And we really like having you hear, I mean, when you're not here...we really notice...

I thought that was really nice. I like my boss. I think he's a really nice guy. He even makes a point to give me the early shift on Wednesdays so that I can get off work in time make it to the comic book store. And I know he hates having to give me any sort of negative feedback. He knows I'm trying, and he appreciates the effort. He even notices things that my previous employers have taken to granted, like the fact that I do everyone else's little bits of paperwork for them and take up the slack when they cut corners. Or the fact that I DO NOT LEAVE MY STATION AT ALL during the day except for my lunch, while everyone else wanders off periodically through the day to get drinks and food and crap (often leaving me to run the entire teller line myself). I don't really mind doing these things, but it would probably piss me off if it weren't for the fact that my boss notices that I do it, and doesn't take it for granted. I really need to find a job that I don't hate, though. That would be nice... but I'm beginning to think that no such job exists.

My car is doing great, all except for the fact that the belt on the engine has started SQUEAKIIING! So like... I start up my car, and it goes SQUEEDL-EEDL-EEDL-EEDL-EEDL-EEE~. I've had it looked at, and no one can seem to make it stop squealing. There's nothing wrong with the belt, it just... inexplicably squeaks most of the time. It annoyed me at first, and I felt kinda' embarrassed to be toolin' down the street in this sexy-lookin' car that was making piece-of-crap car noises. People even say they hear me coming from nearly a block away because of it. But, after a couple months, it's kinda' started to grow on me. It's just one of those things that gives my car character. Eric has even dubbed him "Squealjack."

Also, I got a new phone. It's much more awesome than my old phone. Unlike my old phone, it plays mp3s, I can make custom ringtones and wallpapers for it, it has a camera, it has a full key-pad, and it has UNLIMITED TEXTING! XD I've been playing with it for the past couple days. Making ringtones is fun, and I can set the phone to play them as alarm-sounds! Much more effective for waking me up, because once my brain starts to tune one out as white-noise that I can sleep through, I can change it to a different one. Right now it's set to wake me up with "Master Exploder." The part that goes "Sorry... I DID NOT MEAN...TO BLOW YOUR MIND...BUT THAT SHIT HAPPENS TO ME... ALL THE TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMEEEEEE!!!" So it's loud and violent enough to wake me up, but at least it apologizes first, so I feel less inclined to throw it across the room....

I sleep nao.

Been a hell of a long time since I’ve updated. There hasn’t really been anything exciting going on, though. I get up, I go to work, I come home and putz around a little bit, then I go to bed so I can get up the next day and do it all again. Yay for being a responsible adult. I’ve been trying to draw a little bit, but I seem to have hit a block. I’ll keep trying, though. Hopefully I’ll be drawing again soon. I still need to work cleaning up my line art and learning to color, though.

We had a memorial party for Miles last month. We decided to have it on what would have been his 19th birthday instead of on the anniversary of his death, since the two dates were so close together anyway, and we figured that Miles would have preferred it that way. We threw him a birthday party to celebrate his life and the short time we had with him instead of gathering on the anniversary of his death to mourn his passing. We had a cook-out and, of course, music. Eric’s band played and, since we had the party at a location just outside city limits, the cops couldn’t shut us down this time. We partied hard and loud, and The Man couldn’t touch us! Miles would have been proud. It’s hard to believe that it’s been over a year now without him. I still find myself scanning the crowds down town for him, or looking over my shoulder, thinking I’ve just seen him out of the corner of my eye.

I haven’t seen Layla since Miles’s party. She doesn’t come over on the weekends anymore. Her decision, though I don’t really understand why. I miss her, and I worry about her. She started highschool this year. Last I heard she had a boyfriend and she had a huge hickey on her neck. I just hope and pray she doesn’t do anything stupid, because I really don’t want to go to prison for the rest of my life for forcibly castrating a minor.

Work has been crazy. The college students just got back in town, so everything is all jacked-up until all of us poor townies can readjust to life with 4,000 or so extra people cramming themselves entirely into the east side of town. On top of that, our lead teller missed a few days of work because she’s been having dizzy spells, and a persistent pain in her leg. Turns out she has Hypokalemia. She’s been getting treatment for it, though, and she seems to be doing better as far as I can tell. Also, one of my managers had to take off all week because her father passed away. It’s made work a bit more difficult without her, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. She deserves all the time off she needs. I couldn’t imagine trying to go to work and concentrate with that kind of sorrow still so fresh on my heart. But I also understand that everyone deals with grief in different ways. Some seek solitude while others surround themselves with loved ones. Some become completely non-functional and unable to focus, while others throw themselves into their work, desperate for something other than sorrow to occupy their minds. Personally, in the aftermath of loss or tragedy, I seem to try to distract myself with humor. The night Miles died, I spent hours on Engrish.com, laughing mindlessly, just to try to keep myself from thinking about him. But then, when I’m all by myself, and I run out of distractions, it all come crashing down at once and I can’t escape it. All I can do is curl in on myself and weep and pray, begging to find some shred of comfort. Just one ray of light to cling to in the darkness and pull me through so that I can find peace again.

I would much rather dig up something to laugh about. As long as I can find some reason for joy and laughter, everything is fine. But, if I’m not laughing, I’m either crying or worrying, and those are two of the things I hate doing more than anything (except maybe puking). Worrying is useless and it accomplishes nothing more than causing me stress and stomach aches. Crying just makes me flat-out miserable. That’s probably why I like toys and cartoons so much. Simple joys that harken back to a time when every aspect of my life was simpler. I see no reason to abandon childish amusements simply because I’m an adult. There’s no reason to be so serious all the time. Sure, there are plenty of things which shouldn’t be taken lightly, and things which require serious attention, but it shouldn’t apply to EVERY ASPECT of one’s life. Our time in this world is fleeting, so we should try to make the best we can of every minute. It’s a lot easier to do that when we don’t let ourselves grow numb and blind to all the things which amused us as children. ...weee...I’m rambling now~

Anywayyyy.... I’m off work on Monday, so we’re going to Kentucky today to go visit Daddy. I want to see him, but I’m still dreading the trip. From what I hear, he isn’t doing well at all, and I’m afraid to see how much his condition has deteriorated since last I saw him. This may be the last chance I get to see him, so I want to make it count. Jess is coming with us, too, this time. I know he doesn’t have long, and I don’t know what more I can do for him other than praying. And I do pray for him. I don’t want to see him hurting, and I’m afraid to see how much he’s suffering now, but I won’t let my cowardice keep me away. I want to be with him every moment I can, because I know I’ll regret it if I’m not. If my presence eases his suffering the tiniest bit, then it’ll be worth any pain it may cause me to see his condition.

I’d better go to bed now. I’ve ranted enough, and I’ve got a long day ahead of me. I don’t want to leave on an unhappy note, so... for anyone who’s reading this, here’s a WTF moment from Transformers Headmasters to scald any residual unhappiness from your mind with its retardedness:

Autobot Party!

So, apparently there has been a tornado sited in my area, and a tornado warning has been issued and we're supposed to seek shelter immediately. However, I'm at work, so if the tornado hits, I guess I'm just screwed.

So some stuff happened. I’ll start with the bad stuff, so I can end on a positive note.


We got a call last night and found out that Crazy Steve died. I’ve never talked about Crazy Steve in any of my previous journal entries ‘cause I’ve hardly seen him for the past 10 years or so, but he used to live with us around my late grade school/junior high years. Mom rented the room upstairs to him. He was a trucker, though, so he wasn’t home most of the time. Over all he was a nice guy, and he meant well, but he had a lot of problems. He drank a lot, and he was on A LOT of prescription medication from several different doctors. Life wasn’t terribly kind to him. He had been a genuine doorstep-baby. I mean he was actually left on a doorstep when he was a baby, and then grew up in a catholic orphanage. Most recently he had been staying with Layla’s mom until she finally had to kick him out because of his drinking, and he had gone to Wisconsin because he’d gotten a new job with a trucking company out there. Apparently he just keeled over a couple of days after he arrived there. Our nearest guess is that he died of liver failure or possibly a heart attack. His is a sad and tragic tale. I hope he’s happier where he is now than he was here on Earth.


In brighter news, Autumn’s wedding reception was yesterday, and that was extremely fun. I’m so happy for Autumn and Dan! They’ve been together so long, it exciting that they’re finally married! Autumn looked great in her dress. I’m glad she was able to find someone to make it for her. It turned out great! I snapped a couple pics of her and Dan from the reception, and a video of them cutting their cake. It was great. X3

Autumn and Dan ~ <3 *Pic One* *Pic Two*
Autumn and Dan cut their cake
And in case anyone is curious, here’s the design pic for Autumn’s dress so you can compare and see how nicely it turned out. (It’s the design on the top)

If you want to congratulate Autumn and Dan on their wedding, you can drop a comment on Autumn’s Livejournal or Autumn’s Gaia Profile X3 ~ <3

I hope Autumn doesn’t mind me posting these in my journal. >_>; Autumn, if you read this, I’ll take ‘em down if you don’t like it. ^_^;; I just wanted to share your happy day with people. X3 ~ <3

W00t! Been a while since I updated. Kind of a lot happened, but I’m not going to get into all the little bits and details. I should get back into doing small, more frequent updates so I won’t have to try to cram a bunch of crap all into one update. ^_^;;

Eric finally moved home from Tucson! I’m happy to have him back. I missed my big brother. Once he got into town, we drove to Kentucky to visit daddy. The 3 1/2-hour drive was kind-of nice ‘cause it gave me a chance to catch up with Eric. He said some really nice things about how it’s really important that I not give up on my dreams, and that he thinks I really need to find something that I love to do and pursue it, and that I shouldn’t just give up and settle for some job that I hate just because I need money and insurance. It was a nice talk, and he was so positive and supportive that for once in a very long time I actually feel like I have some hope for the future instead of feeling like I should just give up and accept my place as nothing more than another cog in a great machine, doing my repetitive menial task day after day.

Anyway, we visited daddy, and it was nice to see him. He didn’t look very well, though. He looked like he’d aged several years since I last saw him at Christmas. He was constantly coughing and wheezing, and he couldn’t get around very well. He was happy to see us, though. I was glad to spend a little time with him, and I hope I’ll get to visit him again some time soon.

We got to visit with Grandpa, too. He’s 92 now. He still seems to be in pretty good shape, though, considering his age. It was nice to get to show him my artwork, since he’s an artist. He does paintings and caricatures mostly. He seemed really impressed by my line-work. He said it was so detailed and precise that I should be a draftsman. ^_^;;

Over all it was a nice visit. The only part I didn’t like was puking my guts out on Sunday night. We went out to eat at a restaurant, and I made the mistake of drinking 3 glasses of tap water with my lunch. I always forget how sensitive my stomach is. I don’t think it’s that there was anything wrong with the water there, but my stomach is so sensitive that un-filtered out-of-town tap water always makes me at least a little sick. I just need to remember to drink only bottled water when I go out of town. XP

I haven’t posted in a while, because I’ve been putting it off. I don’t like to post serious and unhappy news. I’d prefer for my journal to be pleasant or amusing to read , if possible, for the very few people who read it. I feel like other people have enough problems of their own, so most of the time I’d rather post something entertaining or fun that might brighten their day a little bit or at least make them chuckle rather than laying out some big pile of sadness and drama that’ll sap the cheerfulness out of everyone who reads it. However, there are some things that I feel I must post about, because I care too much about the people involved to discredit the issue or event by just ignoring it in my journal. This is one of those. But just because I wrote it doesn’t mean you have to read it. I don’t want anyone to be unhappy on account of me or things happening in my life, so to anyone who’s reading let me just say that you’re perfectly welcome to stop here. I won’t be offended. And I promise I’ll do my best to make another post soon that’s more fun.


I spent two weeks waiting for Daddy to call me and let me know the results of his doctor’s visit. I was reluctant to call, because I figured if the news was good he would have called me as soon as he knew. I put off calling in the hopes that he just hadn’t gotten the results yet. And also because I’m a coward, and I wanted to delude myself for as long as possible that everything was going to be fine. Eric, however, took the initiative and called Dad first, and then he called us. The cancer is stage IV. It has spread from one lung to the other, into his rib and hip bones, and it’s in his blood stream. They said with radiation treatments and chemotherapy he could have a year and a half or so.

I finally psyched up enough to call him on Easter. He was tired and listless on the phone. He’s usually soft spoken anyway, but I could hardly tell what he was saying through most of the conversation, and a few times he just went silent for a few minutes. I think he was falling asleep. He said he’d had a good day, though. He said he and Grandpa went to church that day, and that it was good to hear my voice, and that he loved me.

Eric is supposed to be coming home soon. He said he’d be home by early April. He was going to stop and visit Dad in Kentucky on his way. I want to try to convince him to come here first and pick me up, and then we can both go see Dad. I would try to go by myself, but my car would never make the trip and I’d only get lost, anyway. I don’t know how many more opportunities I may get to see him. Judging by his state of mental clarity on the phone Sunday he is in no condition to drive here, and until Eric gets home I have no way to get to him.

I keep thinking about stupid things that I’ll be missing out on now. Daddy used to take us to dinner and a movie every week before he moved to Kentucky, and now it makes me sad to think of all the movies I won’t get to go see with him. It’s a stupid thing to be sad about because I haven’t been to see a movie with him in like a year, and most movies these days are lame anyway. I get sad when I watch Star Trek now because Spock and Dad are permanently linked in my brain. I’ve always thought that Dad and Leonard Nimoy look similar, and Dad’s been a Spock/Leonard Nimoy fan since way before I was born, so our shared love of Leonard Nimoy, Star Trek, science fiction, astronomy, and outer space in general has always been a bonding point between us. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’ve already been mourning him, and he’s not even gone yet. I just wish he lived closer so I could see him when ever I wanted to. I wish he was close by so that I could show him my pathetic artwork, like a naive toddler seeking approval. ...It’s selfish for me to want him to be here, though, because the rest of his family is with him in Kentucky, and his sister is a nurse so she can make sure he gets the best possible treatment and care. I just miss him.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, so I figured I was due. The new job is going okay. I had a week long training class, and then this week was my first week on the job. Today was the first day I was essentially left to operate on my own, and I think it went pretty well. Banking is hard. There’s a helluva lot of crap to remember, and everything you do has like 15 steps to it. Also, I have to stand all day, and I’m not allowed to wear sneakers. I hate dress shoes. My back and feet are always so sore by the end of the day... But anyway, it pays a lot better, and I’ll have vacation time and medical insurance and whatever, so I can’t really complain.

In more serious news, Dad called from Kentucky a few minutes ago. A couple weeks ago he went to the hospital because he was coughing up blood. They found a mass in his lung and did a biopsy, which was inconclusive. He had another biopsy on Tuesday, and he called me today to fill me in on the results. Turns out he has lung cancer. That’s all he knows so far, but he has an appointment with an oncologist to find out how long he has and/or if there is any possible treatment. However, from my limited knowledge of lung cancer, I don’t expect good news.

I hate cigarettes. There aren’t many things in this world that truly piss me off, and even fewer that I can say I honestly say that I hate, but I seriously and completely loath cigarettes and cigarette companies. Who in the hell would want to make their living by coning people into committing slow and painful suicide? American cigarette companies have even genetically engineered their tobacco plants to contain higher levels of nicotine. I guess either they couldn’t get enough new addicts fast enough to keep up with their greed, or their old loyal customers are dying too quickly for them to keep up their profits. I can’t even begin to count the number of times I asked my dad to stop smoking. He finally did like last week, but it’s too bloody late now. If anyone ever has the sheer moronic brass to tell you that cigarettes don’t cause lung cancer, do me a favor and bitch-slap the piss out of them because they are FUCKING LYING!! I’ve only known two people in my life who’ve had lung cancer, and guess what! They were both chronic smokers. Coincidence? Yeah. Just like it’s a coincidence that you’ll lose the use of your eye if you jab a pencil in it.

To anyone who reads this, if you’re religious at all, I’d really appreciate it if you’d include my father in your prayers. I’m pretty sure that’s the only thing that can be done to help him now.

I’ve got so much to catch up on since my last entry. I won’t go into too much detail on most of it, since a lot of it isn’t all that interesting anyway.

To start with, Child Protective Services sent Layla back to live with her mom, since her mom had apparently reformed herself to their satisfaction. We still get to see her on weekends, though. She seems to be doing pretty well with the change so far. She’s doing very well in school.

I graduated from college with my major in Japanese Language and Culture and minor in Religious Studies. My GPA was .12 points off from a 3.0. Which means that it’s just slightly to low for me to be directly admitted to a masters program. I’ll have to take the GRE. ;_; I’m still not sure if I’m going to try for a masters degree yet, though. I’m pretty sure I’m going to do more schooling, but I’m not sure what area of study I’ll go into. Maybe I’ll get a 2-year associate’s degree in something that has to do with computers. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.

After college, I applied for jobs all over town. We have such a high concentration of college-educated people in this town, though, that my degree doesn’t carry much weight. It’s like “Oh, good for you. You can do school! ...But we’re going to hire this highschool drop-out instead of you, because they have a year of office experience and you don’t.” So, the only job I could get was retail, so I got a job at the same grocery Jess has been working at since she was 16. After that, Jess and I got an apartment together about a block from the grocery where we work. It wasn’t bad. The only problem was how EXPENSIVE it was! It worked out okay, though, until they started cutting our hours at work over the summer. The cut me down to like 14 hours a week! I couldn’t even buy food, because I was making just barely enough to pay my bills. So needless to say, I didn’t buy a lot of comic books or action figures over the summer. I didn’t have a dime to spare. u_u

Christmas was nice. I got a bunch of money, and I used it to get a totally sweet new computer. Tanaka-san is still pretty good, what with his upgrades and all, but his processor just can’t really keep up with a lot of stuff, so he’s pretty slow. Also, the back-light in his screen is failing. A friend of mine (same guy who built this new computer for me) is fixing him for me because, like I said, he’s still pretty good, just a little slow. I haven’t thought of a name for the new computer yet. I really should do that. Especially since he’s almost a year old now. >_O;;

Anyway, in August I had to go to the hospital. My stomach had hurt really bad for three days straight, so I looked up my symptoms on WebMD and got worried that it might be appendicitis. So, I went to Prompt Care and spent a few hours there, then went to the hospital to get an MRI and whatever. I hadn’t eaten anything that day, and they wouldn’t let me eat or drink ‘cause they thought they might have to do surgery. They found out in the MRI that I have “large cysts” on my kidneys, so they sent me to the emergency room for further consultation. They told me I have “Polycystic Kidney Disease” and told me to see a specialist. So I started out at Prompt Care at like 12 in the afternoon, and got out of the Emergency Room at like 10pm. They stuck me with needles like14 different times...it was ridiculous. I was so hungry by the time we finally got to leave. X_x;

I went and saw the specialist, and he said that I have some rare type of Polycystic Kidney Disease that shouldn’t really cause me any problems so long as I keep an eye on it. Mom and Grandma went with me, and they were both really relieved. I guess everyone else had been freaking out behind my back thinking I was going to need a kidney transplant, and I had no idea everyone was so worried. ^_^;; Anyway, I’m going to be fine, so it’s all good. However, I racked up like $3000 in medical bills over that ordeal. AND I have absolutely no medical insurance. X_x;; But luckily, since I’m so freaking poor, I managed to apply for this Medical Care for the Indigent thing...which basically is some kind of welfare program where they pay for a huge chunk of your medical bills. After they payed a bunch of it, I only owe like $600. I’m working on paying it off. I should have it in another few months...

SO! Now Jess and I have moved back in with mom, because we’re going to be going back to school...at some point... >_O; Jess just got a new job at a bank, which gives her benefits and medical insurance and all that good stuff. Tonight was actually her last day at the grocerie! X3 I might apply for a job there soon, too. As of now, I work in the meat department at the same grocery I mentioned before. I’m getting tired of it, though. It’s really flippin’ cold back there. >_<;

Other than that...not much. My car sucks. I hate it. I want to set it on fire. It likes to randomly strand me in places. I think that’s pretty much everything interesting that’s happened since my last journal entry.

I know I’m never very descriptive of my immediate family in any of my journals or anything, but I have my reasons for that. One is because I don’t want to give out any information about them over the internet. Another reason is because my actual relationships to my immediate family members can be kind of confusing, and it can take a while to explain. To make it simple, I made a little diagram:
*Click for pic*
The bottom row is me and my siblings. They may not all be blood relations, but I’ve grown up with them and I love them all just as much as my biological brother. That being said, this entry is really about my younger brother. It’s because of him that this past summer will be ingrained in my memory for as long as I live.

I was on my break at work when my mom came and found me. She’s visited me at work before, but for some reason I knew the instant I saw her that something was wrong. She sat next to me at told me that Miles had been missing since the night before. People had gone out looking for him but they’d only found his bike by the lake. Then that morning, police had found the body of a teenaged boy in the lake. His mother refused to go identify the body, so we had to wait for them to use dental records to confirm. So, I left work early, and Mom and Jess and I went and met Rachel at Robin’s house to wait for Layla to come home from day camp, because we wanted to be there for her when she got the news.

Layla wasn’t upset at first, because the way it was presented to her was “oh, they found a body in the lake, but they don’t know if it’s Miles. It might not be.” So she just dismissed the idea that it might be him. Mom, Jess, Rachel and I took Layla out for ice cream because we didn’t want her to have to be alone all night with Robin if Robin decided to go ballistic. So we were sitting at Jiffy Treat when Rachel got a call saying that they had found Miles’s wallet and shoes by the dam. That’s what really made it sink home to Layla, and she completely lost it in Jiffy Treat. After that we convinced Robin to let us take Layla to a close family friend’s house so that she could have some people closer to her own age, who loved her and her brother, to play with. She kept going back and forth all night between being happy and laughing and crying her eyes out.

It wasn’t until the end of the week that they finally positively identified Miles’s body using his dental records. The next day his picture was on the front page of the paper. Every time I sold someone a newspaper at work, I had to look at his smiling face and it made me cry. He was so close to turning 18. Then he could have moved out, started his own life, and things could have started to be okay for him. It’s been around 5 months now, and I still can’t even think about him without crying. Ever time I see a group of grungy teenagers walking around town, I still look to see if one of them is him before I remember. He was such a good, sweet person. He deserved so much better than the life he got stuck with.

We didn’t have an actual funeral for him. He didn’t want one. He said he wanted people to have a party instead, and that no one was allowed to wear black. So, we had a party, at the under-age club where he used to play in several bands over the years. I have the big red bass guitar that my older brother Eric gave him. It’s sitting him the spare room because he’d been playing another bass for a while, and he hadn’t been by to get it. Eric said I could have it (though I doubt he’ll remember saying that). I want to learn to play it. I don’t think I could ever be as good as Miles or Eric, but I think if Miles would want me to try anyway. I think if he were still here, he might try to teach me. He was amazingly talented, and he loved music. I think music would be the best way to honor his memory.


Live and love
Smile at complete strangers
Sing loudly and joyfully
Wether you can carry a tune or not
Live today as if there will be no tomorrow
Hug your loved ones
Hug a tree
Don’t be afraid to be yourself
No matter how odd you might be

I'm so tired. So far this month has not gone well. I don't even want to recall the events for this journal, I've alredy done it once, and I'm in to condition to do it again. If anyone cares, I wrote it all on my Purple Devil DJ account. I just thought I'd post all the new artwork I've done since my last post.

Chibi J'Onn
A frighteningly cute chibi Martian Manhunter.

Chibi Me
Myself as a chibi. Much cuter than in real life.

Chibi Jess
My friend/roommate Jess as a chibi, complete with her trusty "J-cup" and sketchbook.

Chibi Holly
My friend Holly, A.K.A. Green Angel, as a chibi, complete with wings and halo.

Chibi Ellen
My friend Ellen as a chibi, complete with kitty-ears and tail.

Well, now I'm going to bed. Laterz.

What happened!? I don't check in to LJ for a while, and come back to find out that: 1. Bossan is gone. 2. Bossan hates Sarah. WTF!? Somehow I didn't think that that'd ever happen.