John

This is how wonderful he is, he's going to fly across the world so he can be here for me on Saturday. Doesn't he just reek of awesome? I think so.
I'm dreading Saturday. I'm also dreading going back to work- which I have to call and request extra time off still.
Feck. I have so much to do, and I dont want to do any of it.

Death and lack of Emotion

The problem I find in the last two days is my lack of emotion. At times I forget that my grandma has died. My sister's husband, Brad, asked me how I was and I responded with an over enthusiastic "Dandy!" and he looked and me strange. My inner monologue went something like this, "Oh right, you're grieving. Stupid Jen."

I don't feel upset. I'm not happy. Well I am, just not in regards to her death. I'm just.. I'm so Jaded.

At my Mom's funeral I cried. At my grandpa's funeral I cried and then played pokemon. This time around, the last of that side of my family being gone, I can't imagine I'll feel anything. And it's worrysome.
I bottle my emotions, I've gotten really good at it. And I'm scared that maybe, just maybe, when the bottle is full I'll lose my mind and everyone around me will suffer.

Maybe the biggest difference this time around is I have an amazing support group. Emily, John, My sister, my parents... people who I took for granted/didn't know then and now..

Or maybe I really am just numb to death. But no one else die so we can test it out, ok? That'd be awesome. Everyone keep living.

Ps. Micheal Jacksons death didn't even make me sad.

March 31st 1926- July 6th 2009

Today around 3:30Pm my grandma died. We knew it was coming, since they told us they didn’t expect her to live much longer yesterday night. I left work early, and then instead of going to the nursing home to be with her, I stayed home and pretended everything was ok. I am ok, but mostly I think it’s due to shock and my inability to feel real emotions.

So out of the lack of anything better to do, and feeling sentimental I bring you: Pictures of my superdisfunctionalandveryinsane family.

My grandparents were married 42 years. I know it seems hard to imagine, being related to me and all, these two were the nicest people I had ever met. Granted she was a bit crazy…

This is my Mom’s friend from AA, My mom and my grandma.

My grandma in either the 70’s or the 80’s. She didn’t date or write on any of the millions of pictures, shame.   

Grandma’s Birth Certificate. I need to get it laminated or something, it’s in near tatters since it’s 83 years old..

My mom and Me. Do you see the insanity that was my wardrobe? I thought I was the coolest kid in the world with my elastic sleeves with ruffles…

Check out those ears! My lovely brother Pat, at 6 yrs old.

Me and my little sister Hope. God we’re so young…

I’m loving the magenta, aren’t you? Stylish old man. bwahaha.

Some dinner some where. God shoulder pads were hot.

      

  My mom in the olden days. It makes me happy to know that I’m not the only Boyd who was forced to wear ruffles and sport a mullet.

Baby Jen and then Pat and Jenny @ 12 &11 I believe?

I love that they’re holding hands.  

High waisted pants? Check. Matching shoes? Check. Ridiculous Hat? Checkity Check check.

My mom and Fritz the hot dog dog. Do you see now why I want one?

Me and Pat. God 4&3 maybe? I don’t know anymore.

Halloween when I was 6 maybe? I had no teeth! Or pants.. Hmm.

Moment of seriousness: I want to inherit this outfit. (Told ya she was crazy…)

Pat, Hope and myself. I think it was my birthday.

SHOULDER PADS!

I was so cool it hurts me to look at this picture. Seriously, I’m in pain.      

Me and My dad in Chicago. Look at how cool he is. LOLOL.

I don’t know who this is, but I love how they’re in a cage.

The caption on the back reads:   “The Day you were locked in the bathroom March 16th 2000” I’m scared to think who exactly was locked in the bathroom…

Both of my grandmas chilling at the Maxted’s house. 

Theres more, but Emily’s here and theres rum to be had!

Sorry

I feel like all I'm doing lately is apologizing for not writing here. But work got in the way and on my two days off I was off having a blast with Emily.
I meant to write here last night and later today, finish my epic England post, but yesterday my mom called saying they don't think my grandma's going to make it through the night.

I'm not holding my breath this time around, but it doesn't make it any easier. So I'm not really in the mood to share my thoughts and feelings when I have so many (thoughts) but so few, (feelings) and thus, I will be putting off and update until further notice. So probably this afternoon when I'm going stir crazy and want something to distract myself.

Help me

I want to move out. Of this apartment. I want to get the hell out of dodge and either get my own place or move in with Jo-Anne. I need to.
I went to go to the bathroom and in the toilet is the remains of Joey's joint. I figured it was just a cigarette except tobacco isn't green. Not even the menthol kind.
Awesome.

So now my bathroom smells like pot. I don't know how "Please don't bring drugs into the apartment" translated into "Hey, Get high in my bathroom" but it did.

And now I want out. I do, I need to get out of here seeing as neither of them have any respect for me at all. I need to get out of here for my sanity. I Just need to. But I don't know how. Do I continue paying rent? Do I buy out of my lease and say "Sorry fucker." I don't know what to do.
I'm so confused, and as much as I love being on my own, I hate who I moved out with even more.