...still sick.
Mar. 17th, 2006 02:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hippybngstockngGood news: I woke up with the hearing mostly back in my left ear.
Bad news: My right ear still pretty sincerely hates me.
Effects: I am not going to Waterloo today, though we rented a car anyway. Crash is going for work stuffs, and possibly a leetle visiting/hanging out, and then we're going to all pile in the car tomorrow morning and check it out en masse, whether my ear feels like it or not. In the interest of this I am going to take it easy today. I will do the dishes, and some laundry, and maybe a small amount of packing, but nothing exciting.
I'm tempted to sit and write all day long, except I don't feel anything in my head except my ear.. I did come across a bit in an old drunken post I wrote while I was talking about what to name my new fish that I would like to edit though, and use as one of those "bits about me" for my user info someday- So without further ado:
About my dark sense of humour-
I always feel it's important that people know I have a very dark sense of humour, and when I say dark I don't just mean a light grey, or even a charcoal grey, I mean SO DARK NOTHING LIGHT WOULD BE ABLE TO BE VISUALLY PERCEIVED IN THERE, EVEN IF IT HAD AN INTERNAL LIGHT SOURCE OF ITS OWN...
The Infamous Example: My grandfather died in 1990. We were very sad of course, memorial services were held at his church, crying was done, etc... But the body was not interred until MUCH later. There wasn't any serious reason, just that Grandpa had wanted to be buried in his family plot in Woodlawn cemetery in Brooklyn, but he died in Ohio. My mother and I had to leave before the body was cremated, so when we returned at Christmas it was our job to pick him up and transport him to NY to be buried- Of course by then it's the DEAD OF WINTER, IN NEW ENGLAND and you just don't do things like DIG then... That meant that from December 1990 until well into 1992, Grandpa was living behind our television, simply because it's a serious pain in the ass to get the whole family together to go down to New York. Why behind the TV? That was all my mom, I couldn't tell you a good reason if I tried.
During this time there had also been a great deal of dispensing of my grandpa's stuff. My grandparents had one of those 50's relationships-You were never REALLY sure they actually even LIKED each other. They fought a lot about really stupid shit, and she was always complaining about him, and he about her. They slept in separate rooms (though with his snoring I at least sympathized on that one- I often threatened to go sleep at my uncle's place and claimed it likely wouldn't do any good, since they still lived nearby) so when Grandma started unloading almost all of his worldly belongings after he died I was utterly not shocked, in fact it gave me a secret giggle because I was pretty pissed at him a lot of the time, he was not an easy guy to get along with.
My mom of course got a LOT of his stuff, because no matter how much she hates to admit it, she will never get over him, probably in the same way I will never get over my dad. She said she could never bring herself to like him, yet she put little bits of him out all over our house after he passed away.
This story, originally about my dark sense of humour, mentioned paragraphs before when you thought you knew what I was talking about, has to do with a pair of his old shoes, a lovely pair of classic saddle shoes, brown on white, sitting next to the fire place as if he had just taken them off for a rest. They were discovered there by a friend of mine while a group of us sat in my living room, right by the TV, just laughing and enjoying ourselves.
This innocent friend of mine in the room says to me, during the friendly visit, "S. Whose shoes are those by the fire place- they look too big for you!"
"They're my grandfather's" I reply.
"Why do you have them?" friend asks, innocently, "Don't they fit him anymore?"
I grin the grin of a person about to do wrong... "I don't know! Let's find out!"
I jump from my seat on the floor, pull the television away from the wall, slowly revealing a small box which I then pick up, proceed to put atop the shoes pronouncing "NOPE! Doesn't look like it!" and then put the box gleefully back behind the television...
Another friend, who knows me for the SICK FIEND that I can sometimes be, begins to HOWL with laughter about this, while most everyone else in the room is still struck DUMB with disbelief..
Dark I say, black as pitch, charcoal, velvet soaked in motor oil, light just can't get through me at all... I can be a lot of fun at parties, just think twice about inviting me to your funeral... ;)
Bad news: My right ear still pretty sincerely hates me.
Effects: I am not going to Waterloo today, though we rented a car anyway. Crash is going for work stuffs, and possibly a leetle visiting/hanging out, and then we're going to all pile in the car tomorrow morning and check it out en masse, whether my ear feels like it or not. In the interest of this I am going to take it easy today. I will do the dishes, and some laundry, and maybe a small amount of packing, but nothing exciting.
I'm tempted to sit and write all day long, except I don't feel anything in my head except my ear.. I did come across a bit in an old drunken post I wrote while I was talking about what to name my new fish that I would like to edit though, and use as one of those "bits about me" for my user info someday- So without further ado:
About my dark sense of humour-
I always feel it's important that people know I have a very dark sense of humour, and when I say dark I don't just mean a light grey, or even a charcoal grey, I mean SO DARK NOTHING LIGHT WOULD BE ABLE TO BE VISUALLY PERCEIVED IN THERE, EVEN IF IT HAD AN INTERNAL LIGHT SOURCE OF ITS OWN...
The Infamous Example: My grandfather died in 1990. We were very sad of course, memorial services were held at his church, crying was done, etc... But the body was not interred until MUCH later. There wasn't any serious reason, just that Grandpa had wanted to be buried in his family plot in Woodlawn cemetery in Brooklyn, but he died in Ohio. My mother and I had to leave before the body was cremated, so when we returned at Christmas it was our job to pick him up and transport him to NY to be buried- Of course by then it's the DEAD OF WINTER, IN NEW ENGLAND and you just don't do things like DIG then... That meant that from December 1990 until well into 1992, Grandpa was living behind our television, simply because it's a serious pain in the ass to get the whole family together to go down to New York. Why behind the TV? That was all my mom, I couldn't tell you a good reason if I tried.
During this time there had also been a great deal of dispensing of my grandpa's stuff. My grandparents had one of those 50's relationships-You were never REALLY sure they actually even LIKED each other. They fought a lot about really stupid shit, and she was always complaining about him, and he about her. They slept in separate rooms (though with his snoring I at least sympathized on that one- I often threatened to go sleep at my uncle's place and claimed it likely wouldn't do any good, since they still lived nearby) so when Grandma started unloading almost all of his worldly belongings after he died I was utterly not shocked, in fact it gave me a secret giggle because I was pretty pissed at him a lot of the time, he was not an easy guy to get along with.
My mom of course got a LOT of his stuff, because no matter how much she hates to admit it, she will never get over him, probably in the same way I will never get over my dad. She said she could never bring herself to like him, yet she put little bits of him out all over our house after he passed away.
This story, originally about my dark sense of humour, mentioned paragraphs before when you thought you knew what I was talking about, has to do with a pair of his old shoes, a lovely pair of classic saddle shoes, brown on white, sitting next to the fire place as if he had just taken them off for a rest. They were discovered there by a friend of mine while a group of us sat in my living room, right by the TV, just laughing and enjoying ourselves.
This innocent friend of mine in the room says to me, during the friendly visit, "S. Whose shoes are those by the fire place- they look too big for you!"
"They're my grandfather's" I reply.
"Why do you have them?" friend asks, innocently, "Don't they fit him anymore?"
I grin the grin of a person about to do wrong... "I don't know! Let's find out!"
I jump from my seat on the floor, pull the television away from the wall, slowly revealing a small box which I then pick up, proceed to put atop the shoes pronouncing "NOPE! Doesn't look like it!" and then put the box gleefully back behind the television...
Another friend, who knows me for the SICK FIEND that I can sometimes be, begins to HOWL with laughter about this, while most everyone else in the room is still struck DUMB with disbelief..
Dark I say, black as pitch, charcoal, velvet soaked in motor oil, light just can't get through me at all... I can be a lot of fun at parties, just think twice about inviting me to your funeral... ;)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-03-17 11:33 am (UTC)That's BEAUTIFUL.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-17 11:34 am (UTC)Kindred Spirit!
Date: 2006-03-17 11:34 am (UTC)Hi.
My father died of a massive heart attack Christmas morning, 2002.
He'd always been a little on the overprotective side. I was convinced well into my early 20's that my father was GodonEarth. When he died, he was one of my best friends.
A year or so after he'd died, I'm at a friend's place.
Friends are passing on clothes from one person's girl who's too big for them, to the other's who's growing into them.
They come to this one skirt.
It's short.
Granted, it's a skirt for a 5 year old, so it's going to be.
But the first words out of my mouth were, "If my father ever saw me in something like that, he'd have had a coronary."
One of my best friends pipes up, deadpan, with "Sooner"
*brief pause while everyone in the room looks to see how I take this*
I burst out laughing.
My dad's where I got the black humour from. He would have appreciated it.
Re: Kindred Spirit!
Date: 2006-03-17 11:41 am (UTC)Re: Kindred Spirit!
Date: 2006-03-17 11:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-17 11:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-17 02:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-17 05:38 pm (UTC)