indiana_j: (Default)
Been up since 8:20 so I could get the car inspected by Allstate - decided not to waste the morning when I got back, so I've been cleaning like a fiend since them.  Moved my black bookcase from the bedroom to the living room where we've always had this HUGE corner of nothing.  Oh man, looks awesome.

Anyway, while I continue to clean while I wait for my parents (lunch and shopping at Tysons!), have a picture of Marion.

indiana_j: (colorful)
When I was a kid, I was really lucky to have parents that not only approved of my reading habits but actively encouraged and engaged me in reading.  I don't think I was ever told that a book I wanted to read was above me - I'd be warned that I might not understand some things and encouraged to give it a try.  Help could be sought by way of dictionary and/or either/both of my parents if I ran into a section I didn't understand.

While we were living in the Philippines, my parents had a lot of furniture commissioned because they could get good, quality handmade pieces for not a lot of money.  There's a lot of stuff that I remember from my childhood that was made there (and a lot of it they still have!) but the one piece that I still love is their rolltop desk that had bookshelves with glass doors.  The books kept there were anything from Treasure Island to the Encyclopedia Britannica series and I pretty much had my run of them.  From dog eared books to supple leather bound ones - I was allowed to read them all.

I was really, really young when I had my first taste of The Lord of the Rings.  Six or seven, I believe.  My mom helped me read parts of it but she carried on a tradition that would last into my teens - she read the book out loud to me, too.  She'd probably been reading to me since I was a baby and, well, it really didn't stop until I was about 13.  So, she read Tolkien to me when I was real young, which is why I really like the books.  Tolkien can be, well, Tolkien but it's hard to deny affection for the books when the copy you own used to be your father's from when he was in his late teens and your mother read you probably the entire thing from that very copy.  The copy that my dad finally gave up and just gave it to me after I kept 'borrowing' it, by the way.

When I turned 10, my dad introduced me to Terry Brooks by basically saying "You know how much you love Tolkien?"  (as he indicated the copy that was being held together by duct tape now) "It's like that but you get action on the second page.  Not page 200."

Now, I read the Shannara series on my own (as far as I remember: there's a very vague memory of a tooth ache or having lost a tooth and the first Shannara book being pulled out by my mom) but my mom and I read several of Brooks' Landover series together.  I remember comfortable nights sitting next to her, hearing her read for what had to be ages in a reading voice that I'd kill to have.  Looking back, I feel sorrow for when they eventually stopped and I can't remember if those nights died a natural death or if I'd declared I was too old to be read too.

I can only hope it hadn't been the second one.

But at night, she'd read to me from the Landover series and during the day I devoured the Shannara series.  It had been years since dad had read the books but he was game enough to keep up in my exuberant talks of them.  My sister, by the way, must have hated me during our play times because I clearly remember pretending characters from the books were amongst us and I remember it drove her INSANE.  (We also played 'lumberjack' so I can't really say much.)

I genuinely enjoy the books to this day (to be honest, Landover isn't a series I'd get into on my own.  I'll stick with the Shannara series), I think they're fun, neat and, well, really good.

But there's also the part that's emotionally attached beyond the enjoyment of reading a favorite author or rejoining remembered characters.  It's a bit of home every time I crack his books open.
indiana_j: (Walking alone)
I don't know if this story takes place before or after my sister was born - if it's before, it was when my parents were living with my dad's parents in Philly as my dad looked for working when they had come back to the States after leaving the Navy.

Every night, without fail, my grandpop would come home from work and he'd put on my favorite song.  At the time, much to my poor parents distress, I was in love with "Rubbie Duckie" sung by Ernie from Sesame Street and while they hated that song (but still played it) my ever indulgent grandpop would put it on and as I started reaching for him, because I knew what was coming, he would take me out of my playpen and he would dance with me.

Every night to the same song.

I remember dancing with him at his retirement party (it was a crowded house but we managed and I remember it clearly) and he still loved to talk about the first time he'd ever danced with me.

RIP, Grandpop.


He passed last night in his sleep, comfortable (even though he'd apparently been talking prior through enough morphine to put down a horse - yeah, that's my family for you) and surrounded by his family.  I was lucky enough that I had most of my grandparents through my twenties and both grandfather's through my late twenties.

I hate that my family and I have suffered through all these losses in such a short frame of time.  I'm tired and I'm going to continue to be tired for a while - all I can do is hope and pray that my Aunt Alice makes it out of the hospital okay soon.

Also, thank you to everyone who has helped me make it through these really, really difficult and shitty weeks.  I'm a mess right now, no getting around that, but I would be much worse if it hadn't been for you guys.  (For those who might feel the need to call - please do.  I'm not really going to be much good talking today but I can return phone calls tomorrow.)


Feb. 2nd, 2010 09:02 am
indiana_j: (Love)
Today, 30 years ago, Joe and Terry Watkins got hitched during a blizzard in Thurso, Scotland (led by a drunk priest with a crazy eyeball).

The story goes that while they knew of each other (the base in Thurso was small), their real connection came during a party in January.  My father was being chased through the party by what probably could have been called the town bicycle.  Wisely having nothing to do with the woman or her diseases, he spotted my mom and made a beeline to her.  Throwing his arm over her shoulders, he begged her to say she was his date ... and, well.  Soon after, they did start dating.

And 3-4 weeks (it depends on which one is telling the story) later, they were married.

A month of dating led to 30 years of marriage, two grown children, 6 countries and a hell of a lot more moving around than that.  I'm proud to say that my parents are as stupidly in love with each other as they were 30 years ago.  I just wish that I was near enough to them to help them celebrate.

And yes, getting married on Groundhogs Day was deliberate, as my dad said "I knew I'd end up forgetting the date because I know myself, so I wanted a day that was easily memorable and something that wasn't Valentine's Day".
indiana_j: (broken through)
Gah. My mom's 50th is in two weeks (and I leave in just over a week) and I don't know what to get her. *flails*


Apr. 4th, 2009 12:18 pm
indiana_j: (Jericho // crazy)
You know it's been a while since you did a thorough cleaning of your car when you go "...road flares?  I have road flares?". XD  (Thanks, dad. :D)
indiana_j: (Default)
Happy 29th anniversary to my parents, who are still pretty stupid in love (to which my mom heartily agreed with my saying so the other day :D).  29 years after a courtship that lasted less than a month (dated, got engaged and married within 3 - 4 [it changes depending on which parent you speak to] weeks).

*grins*  Their first anniversary present was the fact that my mom's plane landed at Heathrow at all and that they managed to make it back to the house in the snow storm.

indiana_j: (Default)
First, I wanted to thank everyone for their support and wishes over the last two weeks.  Life kind of sucked for a bit but you guys always come through.  And I got my mommy. :D  Thanks for the comments and emails - y'all rock.


My subconscious needs to go jump off a cliff.  I've been having pretty disturbing dreams and nightmares the last few nights.  Normally when I have nightmares, they're things that play off my weird brain issues.  I mean, I had those as well (I dreamt I was at my birthday dinner with half family and half friends and I got frustrated with not being able to order what I want and by the time I did, I was in tears and everyone left ...yeah.) but the others?  Damn.

One night I dreamt that I was a cop but I was carting around the soul of a serial killer - it was hotly debated about how I got it.  Either he attempted to kill me - and I saw that.  Nothing like watching someone gut me.  Or I killed him so I could then become a killer as well.  The gutting scenes, TWO of them, were very visiual and it only got worse.  When my personality switched over to his, it was a very physical reaction.  Bones breaking, muscles ripping, blood everywhere...

And I wish I could write as well as I want to because I don't have the words to say how freaky that actually was.


Work is apparently attempting to kill me.  This should surprise no one.


I seem to be still pretty stretched thin and I'm not quite sure how to unthin myself.


I have a giant monkey, my mom is visiting soon, my roommates are great, my friends are awesome and I'm the maid of honor in a good friends wedding.  Things could be much worse.

indiana_j: (Dresden // Kevlar helps)
They're releasing Heather from the hospital this morning, so she'll actually be able to enjoy having both my mom and I here for a bit.  Unless she sleeps, of course. ;)  But my mom's getting cleaned up to go get her and then I'm here until tomorrow afternoon sometime.  Mom's plan, so far, is to stay here until Wednesday, drive to Georgia and then come back up on Sunday or Monday.  She'll stay with Heather until Wednesday and then I've got her until she flies out. :D  So Thursday through that Monday.

\o/  (Oh god, I need to clean.)

So I'm hoping Heather's going to be up for some real food so we can go to breakfast after she gets home.

indiana_j: (Default)
Since I had forgotten my camera cord, I used my phone to take a majority of the picture.  *sigh*  I cannot get them off the phone without either 1. buying a card for it or 2. emailing them one at a time so those'll go up later.

Piiiiictures )
Well, that's it for the camera pics.  When I eventually get the other pictures of (Conwy Wales and London, to name a few locations), I'll post those.
indiana_j: (Default)
Flight was uneventful (though even with quick check in, the lines were pretty long so it didn't matter that I got there with oodles of time, I didn't get a chance to fire up the laptop) and we're now in England.  It's a testament to my exhaustion that I climbed into bed around 3 and didn't wake until 6:30...  And kept dozing on the couch.  We're off to Monkey World tomorrow but there'll be internet times.

Sleep now.  After I molest the Sausage Kitty.


Dec. 9th, 2008 07:28 am
indiana_j: (Default)
I don't need googlemaps anymore!  *hugs TomTom*

Away, away

Dec. 5th, 2008 04:21 pm
indiana_j: (Default)
I'll be down in the Hampton Roads area this weekend since I didn't see my sister over Thanksgiving.  Since I came in late today, due to insomnia last night, I'm working until 7 and then leaving to go straight down there.  At least work will be quiet for the last two hours that I'm here.
indiana_j: (Default)
Pictures from the recent trip to England. :)  I'm quite taken with a number of these shots, enough to ignore the few blurry ones. ;)

indiana_j: (Default)
Though my brain is slowly melting into mush. Flight home wasn't so bad, miss my family horribly, miss England but it is good to be home again. More fleshed out thoughts later, with pictures.


Nov. 29th, 2007 06:18 pm
indiana_j: (Default)
I GOT MY PASSPORT!  It's in my hot little hands right now!  Or, well, right now my cat is sitting on -- I think she might be trying to hatch little passports or something.  I got it!  I can go to England!  I can see my parents and Kate and Alasdair and EEEEE!  I'M GOING TO ENGLAND!  (This brought to you by my paranoia that it would be denied and I'd spend my Christmas alone, in despair.  My brain is a funny place.)

...I can fly to Toronto!  (Not at the same time, mind you but I can!  Whenever I want!  I don't have to drive!)

...dear GOD, American passports got fugly.  And I look drugged.


indiana_j: (Default)

April 2016



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