Category: past


But I’m waiting for my whitestrips to finish.

Every night when I’m lying here, and really, every day, I hear fire trucks on their way to calls. It always reminds me of the time about a year ago that just hearing the siren of a fire engine, not a police siren nor an ambulance siren, elicited from me a deep sorrow and grief, moving me almost instantly to tears. At the time, I didn’t understand why it happened all of the sudden, just that it did and it started in the pit of my stomach. I mentioned it to my ex and told him that I hoped that  nothing would ever happen to him to make me feel that way. I didn’t say it then, but the thought crossed my mind that it wasn’t so much that something would happen to him as happen to us. To me. I’d pushed it from my mind, but it was always there nagging at me. Call it a premonition or a glimpse into the future. A foreshadowing of events to come. Then again, I always knew what would happen to us, I just…played my part, hoping that it wouldn’t be. Always the pawn, always the puppet. Interestingly now the sound has no lasting effect on me. I no longer feel a deep sorrow at the sound. It makes me a little sad and brings back some memories, but aside from that, it affects me pretty much like it always has in the past.

Sometimes my “future sight” scares me. Sometimes it’s just a plain nuisance. I don’t think I can see the future so much as I can make a very good educated guess from the surrounding events and circumstances. I’m usually right too. However, a part of me suspects a possible inexplicable hand in all of this. I won’t divulge because people always think I’m crazy when I do. I tend to know what will happen, but I go with it anyways…hoping…always hoping…that maybe, just maybe it won’t turn out like that. What’s the point of knowing what will happen if you can’t do anything to stop it? Little things are insignificant and can be avoided, but the major events are never able to be avoided by me long. Sometimes, my impatience gets the better of me and I make it happen before – at least I think – than it’s supposed to which makes for some serious stress on all sides, but it doesn’t matter because it changes nothing about the outcome. Then there are times when no matter how I know what will happen, I’m still surprised by it because it’s sudden.

Going back to the firefighter thing, it really bugs me now when people mention what heroes firemen are. While, yes, running into a burning and collapsing building, risking your life for the sake of others while everyone else runs away demands a ridiculous amount of respect, I don’t think it’s much more significant than police work or military work or teachers or even surgeons (though one can argue that their pay is several leagues higher than any public servant). Call me biased, but I think their work pales in comparison to police business. Most likely it’s because I have insight now into their lives. That one probationary fireman jaded all firefighters for me forever. He clued me into how sexist all fire departments are, filled with macho, pig-headed men who make and have chauvinistic comments, views and actions. Also, they have very poor diets for people who always need to be in shape. How poorly female firefighters are treated. He was telling me stories once and he was ranting about how dumb drivers are (and we all know this, so I agree, really). Per as usual, I try to temper out the rant by saying that people freeze when they’re afraid and there are elderly, autistic, etc drivers out there. I’m thinking of my grandparents, my mom with her vision problem, and countless patients that I’m like, omg they DROVE here??? for various reasons. Not to mention the bad traffic around here. The point is, I just wanted to remind him that people are people. He gets upset and says he doesn’t care if they’re disabled, old, autistic or nothing. When the fire engine has it’s siren on you need to get out of the way. While he is right, the way he said it really rubbed me the wrong way and I hope that’s not how other firefighters think. I always had this picture in my head that all first responders were cool, calm, collected and considerate of others, since their goal after all is the rescue and preservation of life. Instead all I could see from his stories and insight, were stressed out men wasting their time with repeat offenders and obnoxious crap. It was disheartening to them and to me. And on top of it all, when did the life of one person become more important than the lives of the rest of the population? You save one, but jeopardize the lives of countless others as you race to the hospital for this one person?

I dunno. I am so jaded about it all now. The firefighter career is, for me, forever ruined. It’s not worth the stress and lack of time, and the politics. Maybe a fireman with a better mindset, more optimism, better ability to think, more humble. They all seem so righteous. I understand that the pressure is high and the subject matter is psychologically tough. Why make it harder on the people than it has to be? The mind games and the bullying…you’re supposed to be a team. Buh. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

I think I left them on too long. My teeth are pounding.


July 4th!

I’m here down south at my abode! Sister is at work and my brother in law is taking a shower after mowing the lawn. We celebrated July 4th yesterday with my mom and brother who went home afterwards yesterday. With having the week off, I’m sad that it’s already Saturday and that a week has passed so quickly. I’m tying this on the Mac because I figured I needed to turn it on at some point. Electronics. It’s kind of weird being here with my BIL. **whaaat would you want with a waaaaabit???** It’s just a little awkward, but mostly we kind of do our own things. This morning I managed to finish the rest of  my list of yard work goals. Actually come to think of it, I think I’ve been doing something physical 90% of this break! Nothing beats the feeling of accomplishment and physical exertion. Heh heh. Finally managed to weed, fix the stones and fill with topsoil my little plant bed thing next to the patio. It looks less like an unmanaged project and more like something that adds value to the house. Fixed and added more grasses to the back, complete with mulch, tried to fix the left corner with the older grasses which had become completely overrun with weeds. Planted the black-eye susans, asiatic lilies and the bleeding heart from my grandpa. There’s now a splash of color up front, no bags of soil/mulch just sitting around, much less weeds, and trimmed back those blasted juniper. Originally the scope was larger to where I was supposed to run around with weed killer for the lawn and insecticide for the plants (freakin’ Japanese beetles have obliterated my apple trees), but I’m tired and it would prohibit my pups from being able to lay outside which they absolutely love. Liana is very much at home here. Gable treats it like a vacation home. In his eyes his home is up north. And considering that there is much less weeds than last year (so much rain that the grass hasn’t died much, AND I put down weed killer) I’m good with that.

So I spent the morning playing more Xenoblade. I’ve now managed to get farther than in the original Wii game!!! Woooooo I have a good chance of actually finishing the game before the next one comes out! As much as I complained about the lack of language choice in the 3DS one and the graphics suffered a bit, I love the portability. In fact, I was taking a playbuzz quiz on what type of gamer I am and there was a question about which platform you prefer. Well, when I really think about it, I couldn’t deny that my favorite always has been: handheld. The convenience is overpowering and allows for better immersion than TV consoles in my opinion…regardless of lack of as much content and graphic quality. I contend now what I always have and that is, when it boils down to it, story, gameplay, and side quests trump everything else to me. It really doesn’t matter what it looks like.

OH. Yeah what I was getting to the whole time (sorry, the Mac’s Firefox browser only allows me to see at most 4 lines of this post so it’s hard for me to remember what I was writing in the past without stopping to scroll up) was that after the Xenoblade, I sat outside and soaked in a few rays with the dogs, then came in and played guitar until my left callous-free fingers couldn’t take it anymore. Found some old papers on my shelf and opened on in particular. Read about a book I’d read in 6th grade english and stumbled across a stack of old diary/journal entries! Apparently I used to literally use a 3-ring binder to record my feelings, experiences and such. Here’s a random entry:

9/9/04 – This room is incredibly cold. I just came from orchestra and I think that I need more practice if I want to score a good char in the audition on Monday. Well I here I am in English class. The only one in my row. Of course. That’s what I hate about school., now that remember why  [sic]. People just aren’t too incredibly nice. But then I guess it’s partly my fault since I never say anything. Probably only 3 classes do I really feel comfortable in: Orchestra, Japanese, and accounting. All my non-high level core classes. Of course. They’re a lot nicer if you don’t know who the people around you are. Maybe I’m too quiet. I don’t know. But I do wish I could be more self-confident.

Suddenly I remember why I wrote these. This was my 12 grade English class and the teacher would have us take the first 10 minutes of class to write anything we want. Of course I would treat it like a journal. I remember looking forward to writing about my troubles and experiences. Great job Mrs….I don’t remember. lol. I just know she was related to a guy  named Josh Gerardo who went to my church. In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I continued it into my first year of college! That was the beginning of my senior year of high school (you can tell how much I enjoyed it…) So, here’s an excerpt from college:

11/11/05 – It happened again this morning. Right after I came back from my bio test. A friend from a long time ago instant messaged me. He asked me about his ex-girlfriend and wanted me to find something out about her. It turned out that she got a new boyfriend. from there he asked me what he should do. He still had feelings for her and couldn’t get over it. Myself, I have absolutely no relationship experience at all, but as usual, I went into therapist mode and told him what I thought – basically giving him advice. in the end, he left teling me that I really helped him by telling him the things I did and that I was a really good friend. I felt really good about that, but afterwards I was amazed once again.  It seems that people enjoy asking me for relationship advice, eventhough I don’t know anything about it. This is probably the 4 or 5 time this has happened.

Darn I wish I had written a name down. I have no recollection of this/those experience(s). Reading back on old journal entries are so much fun…I really think I should continue to keep a hand-written  journal. There are just things that I can’t post on here because, yes, I do realize that this is public for the whole internet to see. Also, there’s something about hand-written that more is therapeutic than typing. It is slower, but it feels more…intimate? It’s good for our useless, weakened arm/hand muscles too. Maybe before bed every night. Similar to reading an honest to goodness paper book as opposed to a digital copy. Yeah. I like that. Whenever I get on here I’m all over the place and can’t properly convey what I wish to in the little time I normally allow myself.

Time to read these through!

Have a great 4th of July everyone!

…stupid Mac