mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- \"The power of the flu compels you!\" Sorry it has been so long since I wrote last. I've been busy or sleeping. Except last weekend, when I went home. But you know how family things go. I spent one full night with my sister and two nieces. They are as adorable as ever. Imagine the scene: It is Friday night, around 8:30 (my normal bedtime), and I am rocking on the recliner with the newest one, Teryn. I'm dozing off, dreaming the weird dreams you dream when you have a two month-old baby named Teryn asleep on your chest. It's actually very therapeutic and relaxing. So, there I am, relaxed and dreaming weird dreams, the TV on who-knows-what, when I am quickly awoken to my sister screaming like she just stepped on a leech, saying things like, "Oh, my GOD!" and "DARIEN!" I thought the worst for the split second it took me to jump up, baby still asleep and spitting white nasties all over my shirt as she dreamt of really big boobs (at least we have that thing in common). I thought something terrible had happened to my older niece. I looked over, and there was my niece standing up with everything she had eaten and drunk over the previous three days jettisoning from her gut at impressive speeds. It was like the scene in Exorcist except with eggs, grilled cheese sandwiches, and chocolate milk coming out instead of green soup. I was expecting Darien to start screaming, but she is the most stoic kid I have ever seen in my life. She instead turned around, looked at me, smiled, and waved. The stench of her vomit hit me at about this time, and then I started crying. Not really. But as she was waving, a second wave of vomit started coming out. This one wasn't as much a shooter as it was an oozer. Still disgusting. So, I yelled things like, "Oh, my GOD!" and "Amanda, she's erupting again!!" I wasn't about to help my sis clean that stuff up. I was holding the little one, an important job. And to my credit, she never even woke up during the whole melee. After my sis got Darien all cleaned up, she put the little one to bed and I rocked Darien to sleep as well. She never cried once, but boy did she smell like puke as she lay there in my arms. Kids. They are irresistible. My roommate wanted me to write about him. His name is Brandon Healy, and he is from Buffalo, New York, home of pretty decent chicken wings made really popular by Hooters. He is 20 years old and thus talks mainly about his two favorite topics: sex and weather. Yes, he is also a weather geek like myself, except he takes the geekiness way out into left field. To keep my sanity, I read great works of literature and other bits of reading material when not actually in school. He reads weather books for fun. I need a separation that he obviously doesn't. We get along great as roommates, for once. I just pray he doesn't get hit by a school bus anytime soon. He is really clean, and he is reasonably respectful of my private space. Except for, this past weekend, he got speakers for his mini CD player. Ever since then, I have been in the market for a sledge hammer. I Almost as much as I hate speakers. Even when I lived in my nice, cozy apartment in Missouri, I hardly ever had the music up loud at all. I just prefer peace and quiet. Lots of it. Ok. That's all I have time for. While writing this, did laundry, folded said laundry, took a shower, shaved, ironed a shirt, had a snack, and took my daily assortment of medicine and vitamins. I'm quite the multi-tasker. I'll try and update again before the weekend. No promises, though. 6:16 p.m. - Wednesday, Nov. 17, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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