silveryscrape (silveryscrape) wrote,

Got my musicfreedom schwag. JC, could you mail me another t-shirt? 'Cause then I could make a hot-air balloon and sail to Milwaukee. kthxbye *mwah*

(But the key chain is very cool indeed, different from the one I already have, and the photo is super glossy. Totally worth fitty bucks. Or, really, JC's back is worth fitty bucks. Of that I am sure.)

Yes! I'm not, in fact, on a plane to Milwaukee right now. But let me 'splain:

Went to work. Got, like, two words out about how I might need Saturday off and why, and my preceptor was already saying "sweetie! Do you want to go home right now?" because she's just that cool. Did I remind myself you're not made of money? Did I stay for that shift or the next, to make the flight money home? No, I did not. I grabbed that puppy and ran for the hills. Perhaps I'm not quite ready to go back to work? It could be.

Got home, called my Dad. "Oh," he said. "I'm not going to Milwaukee this weekend. I don't want to spend the money right now. Besides, he was cremated. We can do a memorial any time. How about next month?"

Y'all, my family is on crack.

So I called my sister, and she agreed with me about the crack, and I decided to go up anyway because IT'S NOT ABOUT CONVENIENCE, DAD. Ahem. I'll see my gramma and my uncles and love on my niece a little bit, and marvel at my strange, strange family. Then I'll come back and finally, god willing, settle into work.

Did I mention that my flight isn't until Friday, though? So, yeah, I could be working, today and tomorrow, but as my sister pointed out, I can't exactly go in to my manager and tell her the bereavement's off, and I sure as heck ain't going to try and explain the Collinses to anyone. I'm not sure we can be explained, frankly, without a compass and a whip and the DSM-IV in comic book form. Nope.

Except for my sister, who I worship, I am the stable one in my family. Bwah!!


Just heard from my sister that the memorial is July 17th, next weekend, but she's not sure because my uncle who's supposedly organizing the thing kept mumbling and saying "They decided." Bwah! Lordy, lordy. I'm not sure who's fighting with whom, now, but I'm sure I'll hear all about it this weekend, when I'm there. And so it goes.

  • No shame, no regrets

    When It's Over

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