Allison

bought plane tix to LA for the 24th through 31st of july. Feelin' good, feeling good.

on day 2 of pool building. feeling good about that, too.

going to go to fayettechill tonight and hang. feeling really good about that!

today's a pretty good day, imo.

Anyways, you may want to read the last half of this entry.

My grandma died. It's so queer to realize that I have no more maternal grandparents. It's queer to think that my mother doesn't have a mother. They talked on the phone daily. Perhaps I should talk to my mom daily now.

From the Courier:
Mary Alice Jones, 85, of Pottsville, went to be with the Lord on Tuesday, Sept. 15, 2009, at her residence.
The daughter of Irvin and Coley McQuiston Peters, she was born June 26, 1924, in Monticello. She was a long time member of the Mars Hill Cumberland Presbyterian Church and the Eastern Star. She enjoyed traveling, reading, sewing and crocheting. She was preceded in death by her parents; husband, Billy Warren Jones; one great-grandson, Mason Lee Cowan; and one brother Robert I Peters.
Survivors include one daughter, Kathryn Byrum and husband, Jimmy; three sons, Robert Jones and wife, Nina, William Jones and wife, Martha, and George Jones and wife, Kathrine; 12 grandchildren; 13 great-grandchildren; and one daughter-in-law, Doris Jones.
Memorial service will be held at a later date. Cremation arrangements are under the direction of Humphrey Funeral Service. Memorials may be made to a charity of choice.
Internet obituary and on-line guest book available at www.humphreyfuneral.com.

o_O has been hooking me up with some recommendations, and I dl'd summer dance mania 2008, but I need MOAR.

☆ YAY ☆

from me and mom and dad and teasnot and reita (mussie was too good for us to consent to having his picture taken)

A good year for the damned liberal college students!

Huzzah Mr. 'Bama. wished you would've swung your little girls around on stage though!

The first 20mg to the rest of my life? Maybe. So many others on my friendslist have posted about their own usage of these pills that I feel I have learned a lot already.

I'm not sure what is going to happen here, but I'm hoping whatever does happen will give me the kick in the butt I need to be willing and eager to go out with people, not fall apart at the least hint of criticism, and all the other things that make me curl up into a useless ball of tears.

here's an mp3 to celebrate.

I have decided that the three character equivilent for "*facepalm*" is "-.-"

They're very much the same thing and I don't know why i didn't realize this sooner.

---

The last time I had to post something like this was six years ago. Then, I talked about how short Mason's life was. Well, William Warren Jones's was much longer and substantial. it still makes me sad. I love you, Grandpa Bill.

It's going on the list.

notvainatall

:)

What is the appropriate way to mourn a mechanical device?

A few moments ago, I was thinking it would be cute to draw a christmas card on a couple of my characters, so I rambled from my warm bed to the cold night of the den to fetch my notebook, which was left in my scanner when I started working on a doll base a couple of days ago.

I lifted the notebook and found a disaster.


I'm sure many people would say its ridiculous to grieve or shed tears over something that's just a mesh of glass, plastic and electrons, but I am a child of the material and digital age. I am almost expected to bond with anything and everything I come across with, trees, books, computer parts.

And this HP scanjet was special. I earned half the money to buy it by doing physical labor all the way back in sixth grade; I chopped down a pen of cedar sprouts.

I remember going to staples and finding it, it cost about $130, about what the camera did that took this picture.

I brought it home; I'm pretty sure it was a sunday afternoon; I opened it up in the living room first and pulled out the huge foldout pictures-for-dummies instructions that HP loved that year (anyone get an hp pavilion in 2001? you remember what I mean)

Slowly I carried it to the den to plug into my computer (the ast adventure! 400. those hp pavilions wouldn't come out until xp did in october). It had a parallel and usb connection, which was important because windows 95 didn't support usb and we didn't have a port for it anyways.

The first time it ran it was so loud! GROWNGROWNGROWNGROWN and since it was parallel, it took forever to scan. But I scanned all the harry potter fan art I'd been drawing that year and knew what it was like to be able to color my own pictures. I had a scanner. Not many people did back then, and still many don't today.

When we got the hp pavilion, the AA!400 got moved to my bedroom, and the scanner went with it since the install software didn't work in XP, so I assumed I couldn't scan anything with that computer. The quality of those old scans then was so terrible xD Never do image adjustments in the hardware stage, kids.

When my brother showed me the love that was windows camera and fax wizard, the scanner resumed its rightful place in the den at the foot of the desktop desk. And it scanned and scanned and scanned. Little samples of handwriting, random objects, and even faces went next to that glass, and now its shattered. I guess it could only live as long as we had usb1 and xp (I never got to try it on vista. My macbook refused to talk to it)

I have my new scanner in my dorm at school. I didn't bring it with me because I had enough junk to lug back here and I figured I still had a good scanner that had several years left in it (does it still?) So no more scanning things until January 10th. (I took my sketchbook back with me out of the den, although it seems futile now).

I dont know what broke it. Common sense and instinct both point towards my nephews that were here thursday night and this afternoon both and are so rambunctious. Legality states it could've easily been my dog as well, but logic states that a dog, even jumping rowdy wouldn't have the weight of even the youngest nephew, plus it would've been half as much anyways, given the number of legs.

I guess I'm making this post mostly because I have this intense desire to TALK about my emotions, look for sympathy, anything, something. My parents are asleep and so is stu, and most anyone who would read this, but I can't wait the hours until morning to get this out.

Something that's also hard to deal with is the idea 'is it maybe still usable?' I noticed the irony pretty quickly that the green power light and the little lcd asking how many copies I wanted to print were still on. what a faithful beast. I don't think the moving mechanism or the lights are broken, but I'd have to clean the glass up first. There's tape on the corners of the glass. Did you know that?

Every so often as I would look inside, I would wonder about the quiet airless world where the light lived and I could never go. Now I can. I picked up the three large pieces that had fallen inside and set them on top of the rest, and tugged at the large piece in the corner that was still taped up, but I don't want to mess with the scene too much (first reason why I took a picture actually).

The cover isn't damaged at all. My sketchbook has some weird green dots(old crayon caked on, no doubt) and a small tear on the page and little slivers of glass.

It would be ridiculous to enfold the thing in my arms, and yet I feel guilty for shutting the door and turning the light out on it. That is no fit mausoleum.

I guess tomorrow will have a phone call to ask if any of my nephews stepped on something they want to tell their aunt allie about, delicate glass removals, and either a tearful goodbye or a lip-biting operation. I don't know. But thank you for reading this demieulogy.

O scanjet!