okay, i need to get over the hump of not having posted in several weeks so that i can start posting regularly again. the following items must be covered.

1) my sister, father, and i got caught in a real-life blizzard when we were in michigan for my grandmother's funeral. i have never experienced white-out conditions before and hope to never again. i definitely flashed back to the feelings i got behind the wheel during the flood and count us very lucky to only have to get towed out of a snowbank.

michigan received 16 inches of snow in 24 hours and in the height of the storm, pulled over on the interstate, i could not see my sister a foot and a half away from me as we worked desperately to clear ice and snow from the defroster at a rate faster than it was falling. bottom line: it was some scary shit and i definitely thought we might die at a couple points.

2) i have pneumonia. perhaps surprisingly, this is entirely unrelated to item #1 above.

okay, regular posting can now commence. let's roll.

it's been days since i last wrote. anything other than emails.

every day for the past 5 or 6, i have composed no less than 2 posts in my head. yesterday, i was going to use lunch to do some creative writing. none of this happened.

work is still tough for me to find a regular schedule, one i can marginally stick to and be productive with my own projects. it's frustrating and it is going to take some effort to make it happen. but it will, because the alternative isn't pretty.

this past weekend, roxy and i flew out to minnesota to see her uncle and then drive down to mason city for the service for my uncle soph. i had not met her uncle, she had not met this part of my family, so it was nice all around. (to be fair, i hadn't seen this part of my family in years and years — the photo of my uncle in the above link also has my cousin in it. except, this weekend, he turned out to be 18 and about to start college. time moves, my friends. faster than we all think.)

we flew out friday — i went from work in sf directly to sfo to catch the flight. we spent the night at r's uncle's house and then drove on sat afternoon down south. saturday night and sunday were spent in mason city, before climbing back in the car around 5pm and hightailing it back to the minneapolis airport. to get in at 1am.

monday was rushed — work and then drinks with the crew. we didn't stay long because we were still fairly tired. last night was more calm, but we both worked late, so it threw the evening off a bit.

there are plenty of stories, mostly good ones from the weekend. many of the memorable quotes came from my cousins, the young ones who i don't know still. the service was good, if a little sad. i was pleased — most of the weekend was spent with laughter and remembrance — i only saw a couple of tears and those were brief during the service.

i am happy we spent time together talking and being a family — i don't see any of them often enough and to spend the time being closer is time well spent.

there is more to say (isn't there always?) but i'll try to throw it into some other posts. i'm just having one of those 'isn't life weird and wonderful and totally strange?' days.

after the death of my mother, i noticed a shift in my way of thinking about death.  at odds against the clammy hand that clutched my heart each time i thought about what happened when you die was the notion that regardless of what happened, i would go where my mother was. this has provided me a childish reassurance. my main source of security for 26 years has taken a path ahead of me, and one day i will follow.

the clammy hand still comes. maybe less than it used to, but i quickly try to meet its grip with this reassurance. for many years i have been so jealous of those who are deeply rooted in their fates, their beliefs so firmly entrenched in reincarnation or christian afterlife that the clammy hand never seizes them, freezes them. this is the closest thing i have to that, naive as it may be.

may god - or whatever entity is calling the shots, whichever version we may or may not believe in - bless you, billie schaefer. i hope my mom was waiting for you to give you a hand and help you along when you got there - wherever there is.

virginia was one of my mother's close friends. they were co-workers at the office and self-described 'cancer-buddies', having been diagnosed with their initial bouts with breast cancer about 12 years ago, and sharing an equal number of recurrences over the subsequent years. virginia was also my boss at one of my first 'real ' summer jobs, overseeing my work as a clerk at the special ed testing clinic i worked for. she was firm and resolute, yet flaky, disorganized, and an optimist. she was dedicated to betterment - not only of her immediate surroundings but of the world as a whole. she fought hard for children and their general welfare and led others to do the same. she and my mother would make jokes together about wigs and chemo food cravings, giggling and murmuring together in a private and sacred clique of two.

my mother called me sunday night to tell me that morning virginia has passed away that morning. while mommy is currently in somewhat of a holding pattern of 4 weeks on chemotheraphy followed my four weeks off, virginia's decline over the past year had been steady. at one point, sick of the nausea and aches and heaches of treatment, she took herself off all medicines and procedures, against all doctors' orders. i can't get that thought out of my head; the action personified her existence. she made up her mind, wanted to feel better immediately, and went for it, all else be damned. the resolute nature that occocasionally frustrated me so much as an employee made her a pillar of somewhat untraditional strength.

her funeral service is tonight.

it's 1.29am. i am sitting at my computer in a black tank top and badtz-maru skivvies.
i just came home from seeing "legally blonde" and a mid-late night walmart run. i also went to a funeral today. additionally, my new dog, gus, shit (shat?) all over our
sunroom, which made my new roommate, michelle, a very unhappy camper.

hi. i feel a little infamous within this forum. it seems as if at least 98% of
the time i am referenced within tripp's site, it is because i am allegedly behaving in a rude, hurtful, stupid, embarrassing, or otherwise shameful manner. to be perfectly
honest, a good deal of motivation to post on tripp's site comes from me wanting to
stop the misrepresentation. essentially, i think it's fine if you want to think of me as a mean, nasty bitch, but i'd rather you decide that on your own, rather than basing
your opinion on a perhaps skewed perception of events.

this seems to beget the question, why do i care about what other people think? hell
if i know. but everyone does, and anyone who says they don't care to some degree
is a big doodee liar. i've finally come to peace with this within my own life.

additional motivation to post: 1) i need a push to keep up with writing. it's
important to me, but at times i need an additonal impetus. it's like when you're
falling asleep and you have some sort of really cool idea and you really know you
should get up and jot it down or act upon it but the pre-slumber laziness holds you
prisoner and in the morning you can't remember anything about your brilliant idea. i want to conquer that laziness.

2) the theory: if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. i gave tripp an incredible amount of shit for beginning to post his diary online when he began last year. i have some qualms with the idea of being unabashedly honest in a public forum. not qualms with the sincerity aspect of things, but more so with the possibility of negative consequences of someone reading about themselves. diaries, by their very nature, are private. i can't tell you how many times i have read something about myself in one of tripp's posts that made me feel sick to my stomach or brought tears to my eyes. it made it all the worse to imagine an unfathomable number of people reading the same things about me. because of this i will limit myself
a little when i write. i don't want to hurt anyone, even with the *justification* of
venting or "just being honest". this is important to me.

i know that in some
ways i was jealous of what tripp had accomplished with his website. people were
interested in him and people were reading his words - what writer wouldn't envy
that? so i jumped aboard - and i thank him for the opportunity to do this. no matter
how snide he wants to be or how many digs he -or anyone else, for that matter-
would like to get in about my participation in something i once deplored, i am grateful
for the chance to do this, to see where it goes, and to see what it - what i - become.

***
the funeral i went to today was for a student at the high school where i teach 9th
and 12th grade english. marc was killed early sunday morning in an automobile
accident. he was a beautiful kid in every way and the past few days i have been
wandering around in a haze of loss and sadness, even though he and i were not
particularly close.

i found fault with the pastor's message at the service,
and found myself almost offended as he told the congregation if we ever want to see
marc again, that those of us who have strayed from religion have to reconcile
ourselves with god. the confusion and questions of my religious beliefs will doubt-
lessly be covered in other posts, but i felt that a funeral service was neither the time
nor the place to go trying to convert the masses. the words have stuck with me all
day.

i went to the service with my friends and coworkers, cheri and kim. we
chose not to go to marc's house after the service for the gathering there. i dont know
why, really, except that i would have felt fraudulant somehow. marc was not one of
"my" students -i did not teach him in a classroom. i suppose that did not matter, and
that i should have gone if i wanted to, but i have very particular feelings of right and
wrong in most situations. though seemingly irrational at points, i act on them most of
the time. i am not sure yet whether this is a good thing or a bad thing.

i
want to say something about marc as some sort of tribute or to give him some kind of
blessing; it seems fitting and appropriate to pay some kind of last respect to him.
no words seem right though - do any ever sound right in a situation such as this?
everything sounds either silly or overdramatic or more cliched than a 99 cent hallmark
greeting card. but i shall just leave it with this: i dont know and will probably never
understand why marc had to leave us, why someone who touched so many people
was taken so early and left them grieving and hurt. what i do know is that i feel not
just lucky, but blessed to have crossed paths with someone so extraordinary.
he will be missed, and i will think of him often.