I could drink a case of you

[cosmolinguist]

I've done this sort of thing before, and found that LiveJournal seems to have its uses after all. I figured all that would happen is that I'd whine and get it out of my system, and probably hear some nice things from my friends, and that would be as close to feeling better as I would get. It's a lot closer than I was last night at this time, so I'll take it.

But you guys reminded me of who I am. You told me that I'm a good writer, admirable, even. You told me not to worry about quitting school and not to be too hard on myself. You even told me crying is good sometimes!

Thank you. It means a lot.

I'm a lot better today. After all that complaining about how things wouldn't get any better, even if I wrote them down, it seems that something certainly has changed between going to sleep last night and waking up this morning; I do actually feel a little better about everything in the world. I don't understand it, but that's nothing new for me. I can handle that.

I just wanted to say I love my friends.


My dad is really digging this whole winter idea. It's finally gotten cold here, even though there's still no snow. So tonight he was talking about having apple cider, but we don't have any, so he heated up water for hot chocolate instead. He asked me if I wanted some and I said sure. This is an impressively domestic thing for my dad. He asked if I wanted marshmallows and I said no, that's okay. He brought it into the living room, where I was reading and he was watching TV, a minute later.

He had the sort of mug you'd get if you ordered a double something at a coffee place ("I put two packets of hot chocolate in!" he said) and I had my personal favorite mug, the one I always put my tea in. It's just a glass one, which happens to have a sort of wintery design painted on the side, with snow and trees and whatnot. I don't see how he could've known that, though, so I suppose I just got lucky. I know the hot chocolate wouldn't taste any different if it were in one of the mugs that said "Pioneer Seed" or "Manchester-Hartland Telephone Co-op" on the side, but I still like the glass one better.

And I noticed there was a lone giant marshmallow floating in my cup. Just as I saw it, Dad said, "I just had to put one in there." I giggled. "It makes it more ... smooth." For some reason, I found the marshmalllow delightful.

He sat down and asked me, "Do you want one of these ... crackers?" I didn't know what he was talking about but I took what he was handing me, and saw that it was my new favorite kind of Christmas candy: you put peanut butter between two Ritz crackers and dip it in melted chocolate chips and/or chocolate almond bark; they're so good. I'd just looked for some of these earlier this evening and hadn't found any, but leave it to my dad to scrounge up candy that I thought was all gone.

So I sat there with my chocolate and even though I immediately burned my tongue, I must say I was a remarkably happy kid, and continue to be so even now.

Comments

[ladyortyger.livejournal.com]

that's lovely.

[davmoo.livejournal.com]

My dad is really digging this whole winter idea.

Your dad is evil.

[cosmolinguist]

I know. I hate it, myself, but he's always loved winter. When I was little I used to think that was because it was the only season he didn't have farm things to worry about; I always think of my dad in winter as reading the newspaper in his tracksuit and going outside in his giant parka to walk in the woods or play with his kids. The rest of the year seems to be spent in the fields or working on machinery or something.