Car Rides and Christmas

On the eve of Christmas Eve, my older sister and I shared my red blanket with the Colorado flag printed on it while murmuring quietly in my dad’s basement. A family argued on the television about how old you have to be to date and drink, but neither of us paid much attention. The new heater my dad bought warmed me into drowsiness, but I help conversation with my sister for a while before my mind begged me for sleep.

That was the first time my older sister and I ever hung out and talked in that house. By the time we moved to the northern end of Colorado Springs, she was almost out of high school, and back then we weren’t friendly towards one another. She, obviously, was older, and therefore cooler and uninterested in sibling love. When we did talk, it often led to bickering, as well as the occasional hole in the wall. Our little sisters like to have sleepovers in each other’s rooms and often fall asleep to giggles and whispers. If Mia and I ever tried to share a bed, one of us would inevitably be hurt by morning. She might have given me a bruise on the ribs, or I might have kicked her “unintentionally” in the face. We, in other words, were not friends. Our little sisters, however, are best friends. I like my sister being my sister, though. It’s a very different sort of relationship.

After a difficult night of sleep on the basement soda, I joined my dad in the kitchen to make breakfast. He prepared it all, but he had a doctor’s appointment–still cancer free!–so I cooked. And, to the younger girls’ pleasure, we opened every single bag and box beneath the pre-lit artificial tree. Later that evening, I underwent the same ceremony at my mom’s.

At this point, I would like to wish you all happy holidays, and I hope your 2015 starts out right!

On Christmas day, my mom and older sister boarded a plane headed to Oregon, and I drove from Colorado Springs back home. On my way through Denver, I started noticing the heavy black cloud with a curtain of white hanging below it. On my way out of Denver, the curtain blinded me. For an hour and a half, I drove at at a painfully slow rate to avoid sliding off the interstate as so many other vehicles already had. Half an hour of snow, and people’s bumpers were buried in ditches.

I was perfectly safe until hitting the exit ramp. Foot down all the way, nearly at a stop, and the ice slid my car into a stranger’s. It was a miracle I hit the nicest woman on the planet and did no damage whatsoever. Once I got home, though, I was shaking violently with anxiety-driven adrenaline. Wrapping me in his arms, Rob made me take a deep breath, and he calmed me down. The rest of my Christmas was leftovers and Bond films.

Now, I am happy to say I have some time to myself. I spent the day cleaning my apartment(which gets surprisingly disgusting if I leave my roommate to his own devices), I read a good chunk of John Dies at the End, and I’m just about ready to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

Be well, readers!



It makes me feel guilty when I don’t write or post to my blog for a while, especially considering that my last post was a reblog. Strangely, though, I want to to blame it on laziness, when it’s really just lack of time and motivation. The last few weeks have been very odd, too.

My dad and I have a hard time keeping in touch. My stepmom and I email back and forth occasionally, so I usually know what’s going on at home, but my dad never answers his phone or returns messages. A couple weeks ago, however, he did give me a call. He told me he went to the doctor after he got back from China–nobody had told me he was in China at all, by the way–and they got some funny results. He was scheduled to go into surgery the next morning.

Cancer has hit my family pretty hard.When I was in high school, my mom found out she had colon cancer. She had to get surgery, and she had to go through chemotherapy. Throughout the whole process, my dad was very sweet and helpful, even though they’re divorced and don’t get along. At the time, I was just starting to drive, so he helped pick her up after chemo, and he got her flowers. She wanted to do the same for him when he got his news, but the whole process went much more quickly.

Thankfully, my dad doesn’t have to experience chemo. He got the surgery, and after a few tests, they found out it was a complete success. So in a span of a week, my dad found out he had cancer and became cancer free.

I was going to drive down with my boyfriend the weekend after his surgery. Last November, I ended up having a few seizures in the hospital, and he drove up just to see me for a few minutes, so I wanted to return the favor. I wanted to be as supportive a daughter as he has been a father. The painkillers weren’t working as well as they should, though, and he picked up a stomach flu that kept him confined to the bathroom. My stepmom called to tell me that driving down wasn’t the best idea.

That weekend my little sister got injured in a wagon accident and broke her clavicle and separated her shoulder. I’m not entirely sure what a wagon accident entails, but I’m pretty sure she’ll stay away from wagons from now on.

While my parents both have cancer, and my sisters are all just as accident prone as I am, my family has ultimately retained its health. I really do appreciate modern medicine and caring doctors.

Bettering Myself

When I was younger, my dad had an idea that was supposed to stop me (and others) from whining. He bought blue Livestrong bands, and we were supposed to switch arms every time we whined. It never helped me, but I don’t wear bracelets anymore because I always mess with them.

On the topic of complaining, I’m sore, but I don’t mind at all. My other has been going to the gym and biking everywhere, while I sit on the couch and watch Regular Show. So this morning when I woke up at 7, I got my butt out of bed and walked over to my apartment’s fitness room. There was only one other person after a while, but she ran on the treadmill and bailed after 20 minutes. I actually feel pretty good night now. My biggest hope is that I’ll sleep better through the night if I continue to run or do yoga or go to the gym.

Eating better is probably going to be harder for me. I think I just have to help my boyfriend in making huge, healthy meals that I can eat for leftovers throughout the week. He is the best cook I’ve met, but I’m not quite sure how healthy all the food he makes is. I just have to dedicate myself to fruits and vegetables for a while, which definitely isn’t bad. I really enjoy salads and smoothies. In fact, I like a lot of healthy food. I was vegan for a bit in high school (courtesy of my dad and stepmom), and I did discover some great recipes. Of course, I often substitute chicken or salmon for tofu.

You know, Livestrong bands and veganism weren’t the only odd things about my childhood. It was always great being with my mom. We fought a lot in my angsty teenage years, but we went to the movies together every couple weeks, and we are now very close. My dad was very entertaining to live with. In the car, he would humor ideas of conspiracies he had heard on NPR, and he would drop conversations mid-sentence only to pick them up again two days later (again mid-sentence). He always had a project running, too. I’m fairly certain he made yogurt, tofu, cheese, soy milk, alcoholic root beer, and much more. He always introduced us to weird foods, too, like ketchup ice-cream and spelt pizza.

I went through a little bit of a dark time in high school, when I was really depressed and hanging out with a few people I don’t even want to pass on the streets now. I never did any drugs or drink any alcohol, though. At that time, I was less fun to be around–I swore a lot to look cool, and I was very judgmental and defensive. I like to think that’s all behind me, now. I’ve changed quite a bit in the past few years, and it’s definitely for the better.

Now, I’m just trying to better myself further.