So, I'm in Illinois.

The town is pretty much as I remembered. That's bad.
I'm also still waiting to start work. That's boring.

Good quality tiime with niece and nephew. I'm their worst nightmare as a homework coach (That's cool. I bet you could learn more about that if you looked it up. How do you spell that? The dictionary could tell you.). I feel good about being in their lives (as well as the lives of my whole family) for a while. We don't talk much directly about the loss of my sister-in-law, but it's something that still permeates our daily lives. My mom talks about doing "girly" things with the niece. A couple of casual references to the fact that my brother is still on anti-depressants. I'm using her old car to get to work. My niece had to write an autobiography for school, and Wendy's death was practically punctuation to the horror show that has been the poor girl's life.

There's a real happiness and espirit d'corps here, but a palpable sadness, too. I can't help but get a little pissed off when I see ads that celebrate "Breast Cancer Survivors." Images of women saying, "I'm strong. I'lll beat this thing." I happen to know a woman who was strong as hell, and didn't. I celebrate her.

Didn't expect that little rant to come out. C'est la vie.

So, I'm in Illinois.

The town is pretty much as I remembered. That's bad.
I'm also still waiting to start work. That's boring.

Good quality tiime with niece and nephew. I'm their worst nightmare as a homework coach (That's cool. I bet you could learn more about that if you looked it up. How do you spell that? The dictionary could tell you.). I feel good about being in their lives (as well as the lives of my whole family) for a while. We don't talk much directly about the loss of my sister-in-law, but it's something that still permeates our daily lives. My mom talks about doing "girly" things with the niece. A couple of casual references to the fact that my brother is still on anti-depressants. I'm using her old car to get to work. My niece had to write an autobiography for school, and Wendy's death was practically punctuation to the horror show that has been the poor girl's life.

There's a real happiness and espirit d'corps here, but a palpable sadness, too. I can't help but get a little pissed off when I see ads that celebrate "Breast Cancer Survivors." Images of women saying, "I'm strong. I'lll beat this thing." I happen to know a woman who was strong as hell, and didn't. I celebrate her.

Didn't expect that little rant to come out. C'est la vie.