Hello, blog people. I’m baaaaack…

Okay, so I’ve been busy. Stuff. Life. Also, because I was all like “this blog is all about me being awesome and stuff!” but I haven’t been awesome lately. I took time off from martial arts to heal my leg, and have been pretty sporadic with the gym… and my diet has been really terrible, so I’ve basically spent the last month eating sugar and watching TV. And I didn’t want to write about how I haven’t really done anything lately.

I did, however, go up to Chetwynd and see my father for the first time in five years. It was strange going back. The town I grew up in is so different now. We went up for my grandfather’s memorial service. My grandparents were a big part of the founding of Chetwynd, of helping the community grow. Now all my grandparents are gone, and it was like a ghost town up there. Like the town’s spirit was gone. It reminded me of an Irish song called “The Town I Loved So Well“, where a man laments at how the town he grew up in has changed for the worse. Maybe it was the bleak weather, or the empty streets, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. It’s just… weird now.

The memorial service was hard. My cousin and I had agreed to give the eulogy, but my cousin had a hard time getting through the writing process. The only reason I managed it was because I read it like it was an academic paper, not my grandpa’s eulogy. So, I went up by myself and read out a hastily-completed (read: finished less than 20 minutes before the start of the service) eulogy, when I hadn’t actually done a read through of the completed version. It was not my best public speaking thing ever, but I got through it by trying not to think about my grandfather. Instead, I thought of this:

ImageWhich kept me distracted until I was done. It’s really hard to think about my grandpa and Tom Hardy at the same time. I don’t have the emotional capacity for that. Particularly Tom Hardy when he’s being Bane, and terrorizing Gotham. Though, Tom Hardy anytime takes up valuable real estate in my brain, so basically, he moves in and everything else has to shut up and sit down. Except when he’s in shitty fucking movies like that stupid spy thing he did with baby Kirk, because that was a fucking travesty. Seriously, whoever wrote that movie – do you know ANYTHING about spy craft? AT ALL? (The CIA can’t operate on US soil, idiot. Also, spies aren’t friends with other spies, because they know that they can’t be trusted. Aaaand lastly, as a woman, I’m a little offended that she picked the one who treated her bad in the end. And what the fuck did it mean when she said she didn’t want Tom Hardy because he’s British? THAT’S PART OF THE APPEAL. HE’S NOT AMERICAN. And how, exactly, does he get a job with the CIA and not the British SIS? There was no part of that movie that made any sense.)

What the hell was I writing about again? Oh yeah. The memorial service. (Hey, you can’t blame me for getting distracted, it looked like it was going to be a good movie and then it wasn’t. It was a LIE.)

Soo… yeah. I’m glad I wore my nice dress and stuff, because I wasn’t expecting to be the one to give the eulogy. My dad asked us to say “a few words.” Then I sat down and they started the slideshow. I’m not sure which picture it was, but one picture came up that made my dad, my sister, my cousin and I all erupt in a shower of tears:

ImageBecause it finally hit home that my grandpa was gone. My grandpa, the man who used to dance with us in the living room to the Bear Necessities, take us outside to pick raspberries and let us run around like hooligans in his house. He made our first dollhouse, all the furniture and a spectacular canopy Barbie bed, for which my grandma sewed custom bedding. The store room was always full of tasty munchies – which must be where I get my hoarding tendencies from – and they were the best grandparents a kid could ask for. And now, they’re gone. I thought I would be relieved when the memorial was over, but at the end, I just felt sad.

I has a sadAww. Now I am sad. And I don’t want to write about the awesome tournament in Kamloops when I am sad, because it significantly detracts from the awesomeness. Sooo… I’m going to write about that in the next post. Maybe tomorrow. I don’t know. Commitments are tough.