For those who were confused by yesterdays post, Chunkey Monkey is my favorite flavor of Ben and Jerry's ice cream, it is banana flavor with big chunks of banana, dark chocolate, and walnuts. That is what i ate for breakfast yesterday. I wish i still had some left.
Portland and Nina Hagen and all that was fun, but i find i don't have much to say about it right now. I didn't get time to see pygmy (i'm sorry pygmy) because the whole day went by faster than we thought it would, and mostly greg and i wanted to show ktsmurf around Porland since she had never really seen much of it before. The Nina show was great, its so neat to see her 50 and still kicking so much ass. Sorry i can't say much more, i have other things on my mind.
I found out yesterday my grandpa died (the day before). I am not terribly woefully sad....i am sad, but with how things were going for him in the last couple of months, he was suffering a lot, and i think he wanted to die. He was a loving man but also very stubborn, so when he wasn't able to take care of himself anymore he resisted moving to an assisted living home even though my grandmother wanted to. He resisted having a live in nurse even though relatives offered to pay for the service, and instead relied heavily on my granmother who is also old and somewhat frail and shouldn't have had to take care of him as much as she did. Eventually he got so bad they did have to move, and from what i hear he was horrible and bitter to my grandmother from that point on because he was offended that it was no longer her taking care of him. Even when they finally moved in to assisted living he would still ask my grandmother to do things that the nurses should be doing, like helping him up. The last time i talked to my dad (before this phone call) my grandma had injured her knee from trying to help him up and he was almost pulling her over. She has already had both knees and a hip replaced. Grandpa was having a lot of problems. He had diabetes that was effecting his ability to walk. They found cancer in his bladder which was inoprable due to how far along it was and how weak he was, which in turn caused increasing incontinece which caused a lot of anxiety in him. He couldn't sleep through the night anymore, but when they would try to take him to go out or to do anything he would start to fall asleep or pass out. He wasn't happy anymore. A few months ago he told my dad "i feel like i am on my last tank of gas".
Yeah. So i guess they don't really know what he died of exactly. He was complaining about severe chest pain, they ran a bunch of tests, and there was no sign of a heart attack or anything. After that he had a severe anxiety attack so they sedated him and put him on morphine. After that he sort of just slipped into unconciousness, and though they didn't drug him further, he never resurfaced. He stayed like this for a couple of days. Then he passed away around noon on Saturday around noon (march 12). RIP.
I'll miss him. He had an interesting life. I loved hima lot as a kid. I could go into all of that on here, but i find i don't want to.
I'll be gone for the funeral from Wednesday of this week through Saturday, riding to Southern California in my parents van. Then after its over flying back on saturday so i don't miss any more work. I haven't felt like crying or anything, but i am worried that when i see all the other family members crying that their sadness will make me cry. I hate crying. When i was in highschool it always felt so good, like a release. Now it feels so horrible, it tires me out, makes me feel like i have no energy and am spread too thin. It makes me feel all hollow and scraped out inside. I don't want more reasons to cry. Blah.
This is sort of a depressing post i think. Sorry for those of you who have suffered through it.
I don't want to get really old. I already feel old sometimes. I turn 23 this month. I am starting to get vericose veins now....thanks genetics. It makes me feel like everything really is downhill now. I used to be a little goth in highschool. Someone asked me what i would be when i grew up, and i always said "I'll be dead by the time i'm 25." I don't think this is the case but sometimes i wonder things. Like, is that really the point from which everything will go downhill in my life, like the spark of life will actually be dead? Will there still be adventure to be had? Or, even though i don't believe in fate or karma or whatnot, will i mysteriously drop dead on my 25th birthday or during my 25th year simply because i used to say stuff like that when i was younger? Wait wait, i changed my mind!!! And some intervening divine force says "too late, you made up your mind earlier!"
Silly.
Ok i have had enough of this journal entry.
Portland and Nina Hagen and all that was fun, but i find i don't have much to say about it right now. I didn't get time to see pygmy (i'm sorry pygmy) because the whole day went by faster than we thought it would, and mostly greg and i wanted to show ktsmurf around Porland since she had never really seen much of it before. The Nina show was great, its so neat to see her 50 and still kicking so much ass. Sorry i can't say much more, i have other things on my mind.
I found out yesterday my grandpa died (the day before). I am not terribly woefully sad....i am sad, but with how things were going for him in the last couple of months, he was suffering a lot, and i think he wanted to die. He was a loving man but also very stubborn, so when he wasn't able to take care of himself anymore he resisted moving to an assisted living home even though my grandmother wanted to. He resisted having a live in nurse even though relatives offered to pay for the service, and instead relied heavily on my granmother who is also old and somewhat frail and shouldn't have had to take care of him as much as she did. Eventually he got so bad they did have to move, and from what i hear he was horrible and bitter to my grandmother from that point on because he was offended that it was no longer her taking care of him. Even when they finally moved in to assisted living he would still ask my grandmother to do things that the nurses should be doing, like helping him up. The last time i talked to my dad (before this phone call) my grandma had injured her knee from trying to help him up and he was almost pulling her over. She has already had both knees and a hip replaced. Grandpa was having a lot of problems. He had diabetes that was effecting his ability to walk. They found cancer in his bladder which was inoprable due to how far along it was and how weak he was, which in turn caused increasing incontinece which caused a lot of anxiety in him. He couldn't sleep through the night anymore, but when they would try to take him to go out or to do anything he would start to fall asleep or pass out. He wasn't happy anymore. A few months ago he told my dad "i feel like i am on my last tank of gas".
Yeah. So i guess they don't really know what he died of exactly. He was complaining about severe chest pain, they ran a bunch of tests, and there was no sign of a heart attack or anything. After that he had a severe anxiety attack so they sedated him and put him on morphine. After that he sort of just slipped into unconciousness, and though they didn't drug him further, he never resurfaced. He stayed like this for a couple of days. Then he passed away around noon on Saturday around noon (march 12). RIP.
I'll miss him. He had an interesting life. I loved hima lot as a kid. I could go into all of that on here, but i find i don't want to.
I'll be gone for the funeral from Wednesday of this week through Saturday, riding to Southern California in my parents van. Then after its over flying back on saturday so i don't miss any more work. I haven't felt like crying or anything, but i am worried that when i see all the other family members crying that their sadness will make me cry. I hate crying. When i was in highschool it always felt so good, like a release. Now it feels so horrible, it tires me out, makes me feel like i have no energy and am spread too thin. It makes me feel all hollow and scraped out inside. I don't want more reasons to cry. Blah.
This is sort of a depressing post i think. Sorry for those of you who have suffered through it.
I don't want to get really old. I already feel old sometimes. I turn 23 this month. I am starting to get vericose veins now....thanks genetics. It makes me feel like everything really is downhill now. I used to be a little goth in highschool. Someone asked me what i would be when i grew up, and i always said "I'll be dead by the time i'm 25." I don't think this is the case but sometimes i wonder things. Like, is that really the point from which everything will go downhill in my life, like the spark of life will actually be dead? Will there still be adventure to be had? Or, even though i don't believe in fate or karma or whatnot, will i mysteriously drop dead on my 25th birthday or during my 25th year simply because i used to say stuff like that when i was younger? Wait wait, i changed my mind!!! And some intervening divine force says "too late, you made up your mind earlier!"
Silly.
Ok i have had enough of this journal entry.
VIEW 16 of 16 COMMENTS
anyways, i dont think it goes down hill unless you neglect your body.. ..but i definately think it goes sideways. i remember seeing 20 year olds and wondering how the hell anyone could be attracted to someone so damn old.. ..and i underrstand now. i think we start liking nasty things.. kindof like beer, and hardcore porn.. thats my latest. err.. i mean the beer. anyways, youll die if youre set on dying, if not, i think we will be destracted and forget.. maybe remember some time when we are in our 80s... say, "oh yeah.." and then fall over dead.
hey, ..wait, what was i saying?