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Post by Marigold Gamgee on Nov 30, 2004 21:55:44 GMT -5
I may or may not post here.. I think I might do it tomorrow. Maybe. So, basically, this is a spam post. Woo!
A Preview to Mari's Memories: You're not going to get much detail. Sorry about that. Just - I don't feel like it now, and I doubt I will then, either. So be warned. I could be led into the thing, though...
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Post by Firondoiel on Dec 6, 2004 15:50:18 GMT -5
Wow, Arwen. I didn't know anything was wrong when you called me. I'm glad I could help calm you down though.
Earliest Memory: I’m not exactly sure what my earliest memory is. *thinks hard* I guess it might be playing with my sister in the floor of our room in Carrboro, NC. We had all these little animals I loved to play with. We would gather up all the boxes we could find then throw a green blanket over them to create an island then set up all the animals houses and have a jolly time playing together. I’d say I was about two and my sister seven. That is really fuzzy though. The first thing I can clearly remember is when I broke my arm. I was three and my parents had just installed this two foot high gate in the doorway of my sister’s and mine room to keep my baby brother from crawling in there and swallowing one of our little toys. That evening my mom told me to go clean up the mess in my room. I pouted and marched down the hall because my sister had helped make that mess and in my mind it was cruel and unfair to inflict such a dreadful thing as to make me pick up the toys by myself. I started over the gate and somehow I lost my balance and fell. I don’t remember falling, just trying to get up from the floor. I sat up but when I moved my right arm it pain would shoot through it. I screamed and started crying then tried to pick my arm up but dropped it when that hurt to. My meddling made it fall into a really weird ‘V’ position. Then my Mom picked me up and shouted for my dad and that I had broken my arm. I was put on the middle bench in our van and my Mom kept trying to slide an ice pack under my arm but I would scream every time she tried. Every movement the car made hurt my arm and make me yelp so I was a wreck by the time we reached the hospital. My Mom carried me in then I was put on this table and the hospital people made my family leave the room and then I was held down and they started to set my arm. I quickly passed out but awoke at home with a cast on my arm and my family all around me.
Best Memory: Hmmm, I don’t know for certain. Any of the many late night/early morning talks I’ve had with my sister over the past two years, phone calls with Arwen, my mom deciding at the last minute to take me to the midnight showing of ROTK, accepting Jesus in my life, and many other moments throughout my life.
Scariest Memory: Let’s see, I was about four I suppose, and my family was staying in a condo at the beach with my grandparents. My dad and older siblings had gone to a water park and my mom was supposed to take me a little later. My mom and I were getting ready to go and all the sudden I couldn’t find her. I was so terrified that I had been left by myself, I had always had this fear of getting separated from my family. Without thinking I turned and ran out the door and into the elevator and pushed the first button I could reach. I was crying so hard that I couldn’t see which one it was. There were twelve floors in the building and I went to top one. The doors opened and a man and teenage boy stood there looking a little surprised at seeing a little girl bawling in the elevator. Seeing strange people just terrified me more and I started crying harder but the man stepped in and asked me if I was lost and I think I said yes because he took my hand and told me he’d find my family for me. I instantly stopped crying and began to calm down. We started to go down and I had no idea what floor was mine but when reached it the doors opened and my grandfather was standing there. I don’t know how it worked out that way but I didn’t care. I was so glad to see him and he picked me up and my mom was behind him. My Mom had actually been in the condo and for some reason I couldn’t find her and she had seen me run out the door and into the elevator.
Worst Memory: My worst memory would probably be the Saturday night near the end of last March when I went to bed and at about 11:30 I heard an extremely loud banging noise happening over and over then finally stopping with one last loud bang. I sat up in bed for a minute feeling rather confused then didn’t hear anything else so I went back to sleep. The next morning I got up and pulled my shade up and in the church parking lot next door there were several emergency and rescue vehicles and a large group of people and the large dumpster they had set up at the end of the lot closest to our house. I couldn’t see what they were looking at but I immediately thought back to what I heard last night and realized what had happened. I stood there a minute then went walking into the living room where the rest of my family was feeling awful and they told me what I basically already knew. A girl had been coming home from work last night and went speeding around the curve by the church, lost control, went flying off the road, and her car flipped several times in the parking lot before crashing into the dumpster. No one saw her car until this morning and she was dead by then. My parents were wondering how come they didn’t hear the crash when I said I had my Mom looked at me and asked “Why didn’t you tell us? Maybe we could have gotten help to her.” I didn’t answer and fortunately my Mom was distracted so I didn’t have to talk about it then. I was already blaming myself but that comment really stung because it was true. Maybe we could have. I went back to my room and stood in there for a few minutes then left and started getting ready for church. When I got there, people who rarely speak to me began coming up and asking me details about the wreck beside my house. I felt extremely numb but I was able to answer all the questions calmly. Later that day, I exploded in my mod’s journal here at Rivendell and felt a bit better after letting it out. My mom also said later that even if I had woken them up they wouldn’t have been able to see her car from our house and would have probably gone back to bed but that didn’t really make me feel any different from the fact that is was at least partly my fault she was dead. I dwelled on this all the time for several weeks but I’m better at ignoring it now and it’s not brought up by other people anymore so I don’t have to talk about it with my family.
Most Painful Memory: Well, I’ve tried several times to write my most painful memory but it’s not working. It’s very personal and I can’t tell all of it so that makes it a bit confusing and hard to understand why it was so painful. Basically, someone very close to me accused me of doing something extremely bad and wouldn’t believe that I hadn’t, no matter what I said. This party even accused me of lying to cover it up and if accusing me wasn’t hurtful enough some very painful things were said to me. This person obviously still thinks I did that but has never said anything further on the subject.
Various fights with my parents are painful to remember as well. Things I said and things they said make me cringe when thinking about it. Then my ‘worst memory’ is a painful one too.
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Post by Mippin on Jan 6, 2005 21:02:42 GMT -5
Here's an account of my birthday.. in a nutshell.
*go to school* Sarah: Happy birthday Mip! Hey, there's a band named Gwar. Me: Yes, I listen to them. I told ye about them. I had ye listen to them once. Sarah: oh.. yeah.. I thought you mentioned them. Me: I like the flying eyeball. Sarah: You get a Gwar t-shirt, then.
First hour:
Me: zzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Second Hour:
People in audience in reference to Chippy an' myself: "Aw, man.. it's the two sickest minds in class against each other..."
Me: This is an oversized, special edition Russian Lawn Gnome. He moves. Like an animatronic. He also whirs. Alex: This is a disfuctional Furby. She insults people, shoots acid from her eyes, and kills most of your family. I have no family left, thanks to her...
Random Person: And it's her birthday. Wish her happy birthday (this isn't in reference to me, but to another girl in my class) Me (whispering to person beside me): And no one needs to know it's my birthday.. ^^ Person Beside Me: It's really your birthday? Me: Yeah...
Me: You carry a sthingy with you all the time? That... rocks. Nick: Yeah... Me: I carry sporks. Nick:...I love you.
Me (to girl who shares said birthday): You.. stole my birthday. Her: No I didn't. Me: Well, we were born on the same day... Her: No way... it's your birthday, too? Me: ...yeah... Her: You lie! Seriously? It's your birthday too? That's AWESOME!
Danielle: Happy birthday, both of you. Die soon. Me: Yeah, same to you, only drawn-out and painful.
Third Hour:
Me: *headdesk*
Fourth Hour:
Me: I like ketchup.
Fifth Hour:
Me: What's so strange about stroking a dead pheasant? Emily: You need a manicure. I'll give you one for your birthday. Me: That's just odd, Emily.
Sixth Hour:
Miss Branno: No one can really.. speak in metre.. unless they're exceptionally intelligent, or bored, or have nothing better to do.. probably intelligent, though. Gage: Nicole! Speak in metre!!
Me: Rhyme scheme is completely biased. Miss Branno: Oh? Me: Yeah. you'd have to take accents into consideration. Considering that the English speak properly, we'd have to realise that things that don't rhyme for measly Americans, may rhyme for the Brits. Miss Branno: This is true. Gerdie: Hey.. I think you have a point. Me: Indeed, take the words llama, and farmer. With a british accent, these rhyme *british accent* Mark Llama, Gerbil Farmer. *american accent* See, it rhymes. Gerdie: Wow.. that's the best. Me: You don't count.
When I got home:
Mum, Dad, Brother: Happy birthday. *eat cake*
Yeah.
I have fuzzy socks.
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Post by Galadrie*snackle*den on Jan 6, 2005 21:57:33 GMT -5
Happy Birthday! XD ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D
-Menelien
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Post by Mippin on Jan 6, 2005 22:03:02 GMT -5
Whee! Thank'ee! ^^
I decided I'm going to quote a conversation I had... sometime last year... about birthdays:
Person: It's weird. My mom was asking me what I wanted for my birthday. Me: Oh? P: Yeah... I said I didn't want anything. Me: *nods* Makes sense. P: She asked me if I wanted to do anything. No, I don't want to do anything. Me: *more nodding* P: It's just a birthday. I don't want presents, or cake, or a party or anything. I'm just closer to death, and it's just another day. Me: Insightful. Perhaps a wee bit depressing, but you make a good point.
That's basically how I've felt all day.. to some extent. Though not.. 'Gah.. closer to death.' just the 'it's just another day' part.
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Post by Amarië on Jan 6, 2005 22:41:06 GMT -5
Very odd day... o.o
Happy birthday! (again) ;D
*likes that conversation*
Makes you wonder what the meaning of life is... So, the meaning of life is supposedly love? What if you have no love in your life? And it's all basically hate... and fake... and just pointless?
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Post by Marigold Gamgee on Jan 7, 2005 13:36:02 GMT -5
Then.. you should go find love fast, except that's self-defeating, because it's harder to find genuine love when you're actively seeking it, and.. yeah. Otherwise you'll just be unhappy, I suppose.
Nice, eh?
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Post by Arwen on Jan 7, 2005 20:28:08 GMT -5
Wow, it makes the future seem so much brighter.
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Post by Mippin on Jan 30, 2005 22:38:00 GMT -5
So it does.
Paradoxeses are odd. Like change being constant, but it really is...
In other news, I am rather ill. Must drug self *reaches for pills* I think I've taken.. about four different medications today.. multiple doses o' a couple.. an' Advil sucks. Just thought I'd mention that.
My ears bled today. Literally. Don't know why they bled.. but yeah.. they were bleeding.. an' that was... odd.
String quartets covering heavy metal are fun.
So are swings.
And um.. being alone, without necessarily being alone... being alone together.. there's an interesting paradox-y thing right there. ^^
Anywho.. that's my Worthless Post™ for today.
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Post by Marigold Gamgee on Jan 31, 2005 14:35:57 GMT -5
Swings are very nice.
And it's a very interesting paradox indeed. A wonderful one. ^^
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Post by Amarië on Feb 2, 2005 22:43:14 GMT -5
yup, that's always fun. ^^
hope ye get better soon, too!
everyone is sick, aren't they? I'm not sick. Weird.
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Post by Marigold Gamgee on Feb 3, 2005 0:52:44 GMT -5
It's the chocolate.
I suppose I'll just have to find a way to get chocolate and make myself better.
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Post by Amarië on Feb 5, 2005 21:22:03 GMT -5
well, I'm kind of sick now... so...
but, it took me a lot longer to get sick. Maybe I'll get better sooner than normal. (okay, probably not)
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Post by Marigold Gamgee on Feb 6, 2005 13:52:55 GMT -5
It's an epidemic! *cowers*
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Post by Mippin on Feb 6, 2005 14:19:24 GMT -5
I'm still a bit sick.. *shrug*
Annnywho.. a post.. because.. I can. *greens*
Um.. letsee...
Did a song interpretation in school.. had to bring in lyrics an' tell the class how we found it symbolic an' why we chose it an' all... I chose Hallowed Be Thy Name by Iron Maiden. Woo.
As it turns out, I'm the only one who brought in Iron Maiden, and I'm the only one.. who listens.. to Iron Maiden in my class...
That's not terribly surprising, though... I've found that although it looks like a good amount of people listen to them, not many people do. *shrugs* So, some of the alt. rockers in my class thought.. "Heeey.. that's pretty nifty.." when I played a clip of the song.. but as I say.. I'm surrounded by alt rockers.. an' there's only about.. three of them in the class, anyway..
So I stick out.. which is a good thing. I think I'm doing rather well at breaking that stereotypical mold that all honours students must be very quaint, an' quiet students who don't listen to anything hard.... because the people who do must just be reject stoners who are failing all their classes. Interesting.
In other news... I find that I just can't really associate with many people in the majority of my classes.. they're just.. there. They're boring, and have their own agenda.. and if you say anything to challenge their opinion... it's crazy.. I guess because they're so used to being right all the time that they automatically think their way of thinking is right.. which I guess makes sense, and I wonder why it is I don't think that way, because I've been exposed to rather the same sort of education they have. Perhaps it's just my experience in various different places? *shrugs again*
So, I was just kind of thinking about all these.. social groups.. whatever...
I mean.. most of my life I've been stuck in with the gifted people. I had the gifted programme in Miami, Omega here, Challenge in Naples.. all gifted... and ye'd think that they were made up of some really spiff an' weird people.. but after a while, ye notice that only a handful of them are actually weird.. and even less are actually spiffy.
Most of my life, people have rather shunned these gifted programmes, because I never really met anyone else... so what sort of social experience is that? Every year.. most people in these programmes know everyone in their class, save maybe one or two new people. Me, I've been around the block a few times, I guess... so it's curious to see how they all rather clung to each other, and how they still do. Y'know... as if it would be some dishonour to just completely shrug them off, because you've spent a good deal of your life with them.
So, we've drifted a bit.. we still get together sometimes, but there is that weird vibe in the air that a lot of people aren't used to... it's different. It's funny to see how they find that so shocking. But hey.. things change. So it's not really that weird if I walk down that road, and they walk down the other... it was bound to happen anyway... I just wonder what they think about it.
What does someone who has spent all their life in one place think about change?
To get to the real point of all this... I can't comprehend it.. I can't begin to try to understand what that's like... what someone who has spent so very long with the same people comes to think of when all of a sudden they're stuck with a whole bunch of new people, new situations, new places and things... what is that like for them?
Just observing some of my peers, I watched as they tried to get along... going out of their way at lunch to find each other and whatnot...
But I don't know.. for me that was really nothing. New people, new places.. bring it on, I'm used to it. There's a point where it starts to get routine.. where I find myself expecting it, craving it, almost. If things stay the same for too long, it bothers me. Things have to change, and isn't it funny? Things have to change for me, because by their changing, life goes on the same for me. That is to say... change.. is constant.
So that was a little muddled up ramble about things I've observed pertaining to change.. if ye can make any sense out of it that works... or maybe if any of ye know what it's like to be stationary for so long.. ye could share yer experiences with change, maybe? I'd really like to see how things like that are processed for a person who hasn't had a lot of change in their life. *nods*
Anywho.. that's all for now. Woo.
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