The holidays are already stressful and it's not even December yet.
Also, I forgot that in the winter I am lucky if I'm healthy for more than a few days at a time.

I remember a time when I thought blogging (and checking my email, and being on AIM, and myspace, and facebook, and the forum) was cool, and did so regularly, but that time is like a distant dream...

Thanksgiving!

Today is my favorite holiday of the year. What could be better than lots of food, board games, movies, sitting around lazily all day, and of course, my family on their best behavior? I also like that the commercialism, for the most part, skips straight from halloween to Christmas, which means that I am not already sick of Thanksgiving by the time it is upon us.
I have a well-deserved day off from work today (I've pulled a couple late nights this week), and the weather is gorgeous, so I am in a great mood and eagerly awaiting the arrival of my cousins... some of them I have not seen in a year. Ian has been on a missions trip to Argentina since I saw him last. So it will be fun to catch up with everyone.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

annoying

So I burned my foot pretty badly a few weeks ago. And it's been taking a long time to heal. I went to the doctor afterward and he told me it would take about a month. At the rate it is going I think it will take a lot longer, but that is beside the point.
It started to heal a little bit and now when I am sitting still, or trying to fall asleep at night, it itches so badly that I think it's going to drive me insane. The only cure for it is to soak it in saltwater which of course makes it burn. But that is, unfortunately, more bearable.

Sorry, is this TMI? I don't know. This is my blog so I can blog about whatever, right? Tonight I feel like blogging about my itching open wounds... hope you like to hear about that stuff. :)

P.S. The worst part is that we are out of Epsom salts, so I think I'm going to have to use regular salt now... I don't know if it works the same, I don't know anything about chemistry... I almost failed it in high school.

My dad told me this cool story

This story is about when my parents were dating, way back in the day.

So they'd been dating about a year and it got to that point where the girl (in this case, my mom) finally said, "So are you gonna marry me, or what?"
Both my parents were very involved with the Navigators when they were in college, which, if you don't know, is a huge Christian organization. So they were both pretty firm in their faith and involved in leading bible studies and stuff. Anyway, my dad was doing a bible study about waiting on God. And, as he put it, "the whole point of waiting on God is that you're waiting on God, not that you're just suspending decision-making until you get too impatient." So he told my mom he was waiting on God to direct him. (According to my dad she didn't like this answer much, but I'll give my mom some credit, I'll bet she was pretty patient with him.)
So, it came to the point where a decision finally needed to be made, and my dad still didn't feel like he was getting any answers from God, so he went into a theater at OSU and prayed. He told me this was the only time in his life where he felt he had a spiritual vision, although I'm not exactly sure what that looked like. Anyway, he said he was reminded so forcibly of Abraham and Isaac that he felt God calling him to a similar choice: either choose to follow God wherever He led, or get engaged to my mom. So after a lot of wrestling and frustration, my dad told God that he would follow him no matter what the cost. And God's response, according to my dad, was, "Then you can have Anne."

I thought this was a cute story (I like to think about what my parents were like at my age/life stage), but, more importantly, I thought it was very telling as to the future strength of their marriage. So I like it, and thinking of this story brightened my day a little today.

P.S.

I might throw up again.
I just thought you'd all like to know.

My brother sucks. Part 1,789,873

I'm having a crappy day; it's part of a larger, crappier weekend. Or, if you're willing to travel back in time with me a bit further, we could call the previous 8 days pretty frustrating.
You see, last weekend, after months of (we thought) sobriety, my brother went missing and came home with the following: no recollection of the previous night, a hangover, a nasty black eye and a hospital bracelet. After some digging we discovered that he had gotten drunk with some friends and caused such a scene that he was arrested, hog-tied, and pepper-sprayed before he was taken to the hospital.
The following evening, he announced that he would like to quit smoking pot. Having heard this promise several times from him in my short life, I decided to suspend judgment. You see, I've been told many times in a variety of ways that I need to forgive my brother and continue to give him a second, third, fourth (I've lost count of what number we're on now) chance. So I put in a good solid effort. I even hung out with him several times last week and played board games.
So, yesterday was Kristin's bridal shower, and we were out all day getting ready and hosting this shower. When we came home at about 5 o'clock in the evening, my brother was gone and had left a note saying (among other things) that he would find somewhere else to live. Apparently he had gotten stoned and fought with my dad. My dad was going out and told him he could not be alone in the house with my sister (this is a promise they made to her for her comfort/safety). Daniel pitched a fit and left. He has no cell phone so we didn't see him or hear from him all last night. Needless to say, it was a shitty night and although we all tried to remain cheerful I was pretty much livid. Matt and I hung out with Becca to prevent further shenanigans (with my siblings, these things often come in twos).
This morning I woke up nauseous (I get up at 4 am on Sundays). I was at work roughly an hour before I decided I probably couldn't handle it. I called every co-worker and only two people answered their phones (they couldn't help me) and no one else even called me back. Which was frustrating, especially since I was literally throwing up in the bathroom on my breaks, but there was nothing I could do about it. It was too busy for me to leave. So I worked the whole shift (and for those of you who are disgusted by this, just FYI, I didn't make drinks, touch food, or even touch cups. I just touched money). Anyway, when I came home I was starting to feel better, until Daniel showed up on the front porch. The conversation went like this:
Daniel: Am I welcome?
Dad: That depends, are you stoned?
Daniel (haughtily): No.
Dad: Then I guess you're welcome.
(Daniel starts walking up the stairs)
Dad: We're going to have to talk about what happened last night.
Daniel: I have nothing to say to you (slams door).

Not exactly the contrite spirit you'd be hoping for in this situation, but my brother is a self-centered drug addict, so I expect nothing more.
Anyway, I have said this about 5 billion times already, but I am tired of this. Life needs some more stability. We need to be able to go a week without a major crisis. It is so unbelievably childish to run away from your home or your problems, but I have put up with this no less than 4 times in the past year and a half, twice with police intervention.
So (and please keep in mind I am not looking for anyone's opinion on how to "deal with" my brother, I think unless you have been in this situation yourself, it is so easy to simplify it down to forgiving your brother seven times seventy, and that's not what real love or real life is about). So, anyway, I am tired and pissed and feel trapped, and need to vent. Because I don't know what else to do, I have had enough from him.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.