Another Long Day

I’m at Ponte Vedra until 4 again today, by myself.  I really don’t like this.  What sucks is that I’m allowed to do pretty much whatever I want except sleep.  I could really use some of that.

We did dinner and a movie for Milo’s birthday last night.  Steak ‘n’ Shake and Batman vs. Superman.  The movie was…okay.

For some reason, I just had a flashback to kindergarten with Mrs. Green and Mrs. Varn.  I’m not sure specifically what the flashback was of, I was just playing with my mood ring and I pictured that classroom at First Presbyterian.

I remember the first day I tied my shoes by myself.  All the kids in the class (the same class) were gathered on that rug where we used to sit to listen to stories and sing and stuff, and I had noticed that my shoe had come untied.  Well, I’d been trying to learn for a long time by that point, and it was so unfair because Scotty, who came over after school every day, knew how to tie her shoes already and she was younger than me!  Anyway, so I picked up the laces in my hands and started to work at it, and Scotty noticed and she said, “You can do it, Ginny.  You really can”,  and then we were no longer paying attention to the story at all; nothing mattered except that I had to tie my shoe by myself.  I worked slowly, staring at the laces, concentrating, blocking out everything else except Scotty’s whispers of encouragement.  Finally–I got it!  Scotty gave me a high five, and then, when I was sure I had it, I even double-knotted it to show off.  That was a good day.

I really have nothing else to do today except send my thoughts into the abyss.

Not-So-Kissing Cousins

I have to put this in here because there’s nowhere else I can write it down where it would be read (and that’s the point because it’s funny) except for a regular notebook (but who uses those dinosaurs anymore?).  Last night I was taking a walk around Nicole’s neighborhood with Milo, and we were lost.  That has nothing to do with the story, but it’s funny, so I had to add it.  And we’re talking about Tombstone and Doc Holliday, and he says, “Doc Holliday was a cool guy and all, but he had that weird incestual thing going on with his cousin.”  I said, “Yes, but that happened all the time back in the day.”  He said, “I know, but still…his cousin.”  I said, “Yeah….”  There was a brief silence, which he broke by saying, “You know, my dad thinks you look just like my cousin Melissa, and I never noticed it before, but you really do!”

I don’t want to look like his cousin.  I don’t want to look like his sister.  Why do people keep pointing out things like this to him?  I don’t want him having these ideas!  I guess there’s nothing I can do to prevent it.  Cortney says we’re all related anyhow.

Sometimes I really like being up alone late at night when no one else in the whole house is awake.  This is not one of those nights.  There are some nights when I just feel so lonely I’m almost afraid to go to sleep.  I don’t know why I used the word ‘afraid’…that’s just what came to mind.  Hm…why would being lonely make me afraid to go to sleep?  Shouldn’t it be the other way around?  Why wouldn’t I sleep to escape from the loneliness?  It’s almost as if I’m afraid of being smothered by the vastness of the emotion.  I guess that doesn’t make any sense.  I don’t know what I’m talking about.  I just can’t go to bed yet.  I didn’t want to leave Nicole’s house, but I couldn’t let the parental units worry.  Besides…I have to work in the morning.  Maybe that’s why I feel so lonely.  I’ll have the whole office to myself for seven hours.  I hate that.  Especially when it’s that office.  In Ponte Vedra.  I only work there occasionally–it’s not my office.  I don’t like working there.

Ugh…if you’ve never tried it, don’t bother attempting to count sheep.  It doesn’t work.  They don’t jump over the little fence thing.  They run away from it.  Yeah.  Stupid sheep.

The ‘Thwap’ Heard ‘Round The World

My sister went psycho again tonight.  She has this weird thing where if she writes something on the grocery list, or specifically asks for it, nobody else is allowed to eat it.  Hello, loser, if you didn’t pay for it, that means it does not belong to you.  I don’t know why she can’t understand this.  She feels like her asking for it gives her claim.  I’ll try to explain that when I ask for something, it means I want it but that doesn’t make it mine.  If it’s in the closet, if it’s in the fridge, it’s up for grabs.  Anyone can take it.  She has issues.  Anyway.  So tonight, she blew up at my brother, as it is customary for her to blow up at someone every time we go to the grocery store.  Something she had asked for was gone, so she went on the rampage:

“SOMEONE ATE ALL OF MY BANANA MUFFIN BARS!!!!!!  THOSE WERE MINE!!!!!!!  I ASKED FOR THEM!!!!!  YOU STUPID LITTLE SHIT!!!!!!!  THOSE WERE MINE!!!!!!  YOU DON’T HAVE TO EAT ALL OF MY FOOD JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE SO FUCKING FAT!!!!!!!!!!”  This is the condensed version.  I left the language in for shock value.  Not the fact that she used it, but that she screamed it in front of my mom.  It’s not the first time, though.

Anyway, she then proceeded to take that pair of wet jeans that she washes every night and slap him as hard as she could across the face with them.  The ‘thwap’ reverberated around the room.  At that point, I yelled at her:


I was pleased at the fact that this actually startled her; most of the time she doesn’t care if anyone yells at her because she’s too good to listen to anybody else.  At any rate, this did frighten her a bit, and she jumped and kind of backed away from him, and then when my mom told her she needed to calm down, she finally stalked to her bedroom and slammed the door.  She really infuriates me sometimes.

I Am A Rock

Oh geez.  So let me explain about the laundry–the laundry…criminy.  There isn’t one day a week that I can do laundry…Sister does hers every night.  She does this in the hopes that someone will complain and she can use her argument (the same one she’s used for years) that she “only has one pair of jeans” so she has to wash them every night.  Anytime I try to do my laundry, she suddenly realizes–oh, I have to do mine now–and brings them into the laundry room and starts yelling because my clothes are in the wash.  Is this sensible? No, I didn’t think so either.

Besides that, I have this thing where I have to have my clothes warm in order to hang them up so they don’t get all wrinkled.  So she’ll force me to take my clothes out of the dryer at the most inopportune times, like when I’m walking out the door, and they’ll get cold and wrinkled, and I will leave them in a heap in my room for a whole week, just drying for a few minutes the ones that I need.  So each night I come back to the dryer and attempt to dry my clothes again so I can hang them up–I only need to dry them for a few minutes to get them warm!  And each night, she forces me to get them out again because she has to do laundry.  This pisses me off to no end, but usually I just silently comply so as not to cause drama.  Tonight, however, I was having a pleasant conversation with Nicole and enjoying my dinner of clam chowder and mushrooms, and Sister stalks into the laundry room and demands that I remove my clothes from the dryer.  Her clothes are still in wash mode.  I said, “You can wait a few minutes; your clothes aren’t even done yet”, and she went back into her room.  A few minutes later, I was still talking to Nicole, and Sister went into the laundry room again and started yelling, “GET YOUR CLOTHES OUT NOW!!!!”  In my attempts not to yell back and just remain quiet, I actually started shaking.  It was interesting–my hand was shaking while I was trying to eat the clam chowder and I gave up on the food, and then of course, my dad got involved.  I was still talking to Nicole, trying to ignore my surroundings, but I could hear them in the background–

“Well are they wet?”
“So why is she drying them now?”
“Ginny?  What’s going on with the clothes?”
“I know that, I’m trying to find out why.”
“Well can you just get them out yourself?”
“Ginny? What’s going on with the clothes?”

He always knows the perfect questions to ask Sister to piss her off even more and to further incriminate me.  It’s like they plan it that way.  Probably on their monthly walks or something.  So of course, at this point I had to jump in and attempt to plead my case.  I actually had a little success with this one–I asked why she should have to do laundry every night, and when she tried to explain that one, my dad actually told her to go buy another pair of jeans.  Wow.  However, the argument went on, and as usual, they both failed to see that I might have any reason whatsoever and everything I said went in one ear and out another.

Then my dad said, “I am so sick of all this arguing!  Why can’t the two of you learn to get along?”

I didn’t answer that, although I started shaking again in my resolution not to retort with my instinctual, “Well I’m sick of you siding with her all the time just because you like her better!!!” and instead, I disappeared into my room.  Criminy jicket.

I Miss Snow….


…Okay.  I only somewhat miss snow.  All you really hear about snow nowadays is that it sucks.  What I miss is those days when the weather forecasters said, “A chance of snow tonight” and the school forecasters said, “A chance of no school tomorrow”.  I miss staying up late and waiting, wondering if it would actually snow, and then when it often did, standing outside in the dark with my family and listening to its silence.  Falling snow is a different sort of silence than just nothing silence.  Especially at night.  It’s more peaceful, soothing.  It’s magical.  I remember tilting my head back and staring at the sky, watching the snow fall on my face, having to squint as it started landing in my eyes.  I’d stick my tongue out and taste it…it had no flavor but cold, but still, it was nice.  I miss that about snow.  Then I miss waking up in the morning when the world was blanketed in it, and going outside with my sister and having to cover every white spot with footprints.  Why did we do that?  Lately I wondered why we felt the need to destroy something like that, but then I always think, “Well, it was there for us to walk on.  That’s what it was for.”

Yes, that was all very random.  I meant to go to bed over an hour ago.  Each night, when I stay up late, I’ll reach a certain point where I’ll feel, “Well, I may as well stay up the rest of the night now, no sense in trying to sleep.”  Then I always inevitably do fall asleep and end up with only a couple hours’ worth.  That’s what’s going to happen tonight.

That’s it. I need to stop rambling for the night or I will never get any sleep. It’s been a good day; sleep should be restful tonight.

Good night, all.


Hello, Reader.

If you’ve stumbled upon me and have no idea what’s going on, don’t fret–neither do I!  This is intended to be an online journal of sorts.  There’s no real theme apart from my daily activities and musings.  Expect stream of consciousness, stories about what happened at school, work, or home today, that crazy dream I had last night, and the occasional fiction.

If you were looking to get inside the mind and life of a total stranger, you’ve come to the right place.  Please do pull up a seat.  Share a tale of your own, because I do enjoy other personal blogs, as well.  I hope that we can get to be good friends.

At the time of starting this blog, I am 19 years old, so you are likely to hear me complain about homework, love, and the most unjust treatment of me by my family.  Life isn’t fair, and I am at a prime point in life to remind you of it–and hopefully give you a little chuckle here and there.

I love many fandoms and I will geek out about all the things, but I’ll try not to be too obnoxious about it.  Sometimes I’ll share pictures.  I like making Bitstrips characters when I’m bored.  Here’s a subtle reference to one of my favorite fandoms:


I hope you have a great day!