This has been a terrible week, and it isn't even over yet. One more day, then back to work. I don't even know what to do anymore.

The funeral was beautiful, and terrible. So many tears. I don't even know how to describe it. Every breath hurt. It was a different kind of pain. I had to keep reminding myself that he was actually gone. There was no casket, only pictures. I had to keep looking at the pictures to remember who I was supposed to be remembering. It couldn't be my Grandpa! He's invincible. He's a rock. People knew him as a brother, as a father, and as a cousin, or a husband. No one spoke about him as a Grandpa. I wanted to stand up there and tell them he did magic. That he amazed me! He was my hero. He always told me I was beautiful, and he was the only person who ever said that that I truly wanted to believe.

I have a lot of memories of my Grandpa, and since I was his grandchild, they were only good memories. I didn't know him as the once upon a time alcoholic... I knew him as GRANDPA! At least that's what we would all scream when he would pull up in his town car.

He used to live close. Then he moved to Arizona. That's why it's hard to believe he's gone. I didn't get to see him more than once a year... but I treasured those times.

He took me home with him once. 3 day road trip. I got to eat refried beans for breakfast in Sedona. He took me in the desert to collect junk. We found a lot. We made a sculpture. I was the only grandchild to do it, but that's because I adored him, and I invited myself. I weaseled my way into the position of importance. Being one of 5 kids, it's hard to feel special to a relative...so I would make THEM feel special, and I became the favorite. The forced favorite, but the favorite nonetheless.

I was also a big fan of "Grandma Isabelle" Grandpa's third wife. No one compares to my Grammy, but Isabelle takes the place of my crappy Grandma on the other side. (Killmers) She was with Grandpa through his last breath. I hate cancer.

When I saw Isabelle at the funeral, she teared up and wrapped her arms around me. "There she is. There's my girl. I've been waiting for this...my dear sweet Corrie. I love you so much. Your Grandpa loved you so much. It is so good to see your beautiful face." I wept, reminding her that she was still my Grandma, and she held me closer. She cried, sobbing that she had loved him so much... we all did.

I still can't believe it happened. There was something I was depending on to get me through this week, and it seems that may be slipping through the cracks. I guess I wouldn't know.

I'm out of ideas, but hey... I'm a creative person. I'll just have to start over. I'll get over it. The pain will subside eventually. GOOD ATTITUDE! Yes.

I drew a blue dot on Cody's nose. I'm not sure why...I'm not sure why he LET me do it. Now he looks like he has a bruise, after running around in the rain.

I'm watching season 2 of Grey's Anatomy. I'm learning a lot from Meredith's relationships. She has a lot of good things to say in her opening and closing narrations. Sounds like I could have written them myself.

So...I guess that's all for now. Have a memory or a thought about my grandpa? Leave it here:

http://www.legacy.com/Link.asp?ID=GB19227314


That's all for now. I feel like I broke something inside... I need glue. The chocolate kind?

-Me

You are Mahogany

Stable and decisive, you lack the hyper energy of most orange colors. You're still energetic, but you tend to project a peaceful, relaxed vibe. You love to feel cozy. You often rather wrap up in a blanket than go out for the night.

What Color Orange Are You?

I'm killing myself. Not intentionally. But it's happening. THe working all the time seems to help distract me at times from the things I don't want to face, but sooner or later you have to face them all.

I've found a few other distractions. Some I'm not as proud of as others. I wish I were writing more like I promised Grandpa I would. I screw up a lot. Really a lot. I don't have anything to write about. I'm ashamed of my recent mistakes. I let a situation change me, and I don't know how to get back to where I started. I know the blame belongs to me as well, because I let the lies present themselves as truth. That was all me. I just wanted so badly to feel different. Get the numbness out. Feel things.

Now I just want to be numb again. I've gone through the majority of my life missing people. Perhaps that's why it seemed so natural to pursue a relationship with BJ. Maybe because I knew if he was around me all the time, every day...he would realize that much sooner that he didn't want me.

Of course that's most likely a delusion. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference. My thoughts are extensive. They eat me alive. They take away reality. I'm filled to the brim with "what ifs". How do you banish those ideas? By pursuing reality. Well... here's my reality.

I work from 3:45 am to 6pm. I know there are thousands of people who work more than that. Doctors rarely even go home! I learned that from SCRUBS and Grey's Anatomy. Yup. I'm television educated. I know how to solve crimes, treat patients, and cheat on people. GOOD things to know. Riiiiiiiigggggggghhhhhhhht. So anyway, back to reality.

I work a lot. So does everyone. Check. Got it. The only people I see day to day are co-workers. Co-workers who all seem to be best friends. Amber says that that's because I don't push hard enough, that it takes two to tango. I told her she was right...and I'm still looking for my dance partner. I get invited to things I plan! Because I invite myself. I'm a lonely, miserable person. I'm a pathetic human being. I get so angry sometimes. Mainly at myself. But I don't want to reduce myself to the "Can I come?" pushing on in. Come on! You know you want me! No... no. I know I want THEM.

So when I'm not working, I'm sleeping. Which presents the reasons why I hadn't eaten anything in three days. I completely forgot! Don't worry. I'm still a chub chub. Even if I had deliberately stopped eating, I would still gain weight.

I complain a lot on here, I do. But who else do I complain to? You got to get it out somehow. Critique all you want. Think bad things about me. I'll never know, and you'll never tell me! All's well in the world.

So the long and short of my reality. I don't exist. Not to me, not to others. I'm just...there. I tell funny jokes and sing pretty songs. I'm the voice that interrupts your conversations. It's not always welcome, but always amusing. I talk to BJ for a bit before bed. He's my best friend. We say we're more than that. I want to be everything to him. He says I am. I wish I was.

I want to be in love. I want to feel it all. It's been determined...by myself...that I suck at long distance relationships, and yet I have no other options. What does that mean? That I choose to be miserable? I guess it does. Years and years ahead of me. I made the move, the move didn't work. I'm reminded of a song! Neither me or anyone i know is Madeleine, and yet..."Whoa, oh Madeleine! Here we go round' again! You know it, I know it, don't try to pretend! You know it could be so much better than it's been. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh here we go round' again!" I hope it's better..."This time around!" BWa-ha-ha. Thank you Hanson. I adore you.

BJ makes me happy. He's the beginning and the end of my thoughts each day. But we've got a mountain to climb. I'm just afraid I'm not strong enough. I'll fall down and get smashed on the bottom, and he'll go on without me. I'll still be tied to him...for safety reasons of course, so he'll drag me up to the top behind him...eventually. Our eventually is years away. It used to be closer...but now that he's got all that dead weight attached to him, it's gonna take longer. Life was carefree...a quick jaunt up a mountain side! Now it's a mission. Have to finish school, have to get a job, have to be financially secure...all for the better of the carcass hanging at the end of his rope. BAH! Maybe I'm ruining him. I just want it to be my turn to be taken care of. Maybe that's selfish. It probably is.

So I've rambled enough today. Yesterday I went to the Renaissance Festival. I introduced my mom to Captain Jack Sparrow. I was in costume. Apparently I was beautiful. I got looks from men. I guess the costume gave me courage to keep my eyes off the ground. Apparently I have beautiful eyes. My name was Ophelia yesterday. It was glorious. A young girl tugged on my skirt and told me I was very pretty. I had a good day. Not night. I had a bad night. I have to forgive.

So that's all for now.

Over. Me