Just how am I going to get up?

I want to do something great with my life.

But how do I start?

Watching someone die from afar

This morning my uncle called while I was brushing my teeth. My brother kept peering past the doorway until I was done, and then gave me the phone.

Conversation started out fairly normal; cheerful, even, but within a minute or two we got down to business. I could hear the sadness in my uncle's voice, but he was trying his best to sound normal and casual about the whole thing.

"Cara's getting rid of a lot of her clothes," he said to me. "Most of them are really nice, so I was wondering if you'd like some of them."

I said I would be happy to receive some of her clothing.

"What dress size are you? Do you like boots?" He asked me. I didn't know my dress size.

I felt so sad for my uncle; to anyone else, he wouldn't sound quite so depressed, but I could tell that he was. His daughter is dying and he's calling people up to ask them if they want her clothing, because she knows that she won't have much use for them in a short while. I can't think of a more depressing situation than that.

Ever since I got older, my cousin's been cordial to me, but around 9 or 10 I lost the feeling of her really loving me. This is the age at which your relatives stop caring, and it goes on until you're about 20.

I want to talk to her so badly, but she doesn't want to be bothered by anyone outside her immediate family, it seems. Though, it might just be my family. We always seem so terribly out of place with them.

I just picture myself holding her and crying into her chest. I want to tell her "I love you," and have it mean something.

"Do you wear leather?" my uncle asks.

"Well, I might," I reply, feeling a little awkward.

"In what situation would you wear it? The leather I'm talking about it a rather nice waistcoat," he responds, consternation lacing his tone.

"I don't know... it would depend on the style of the coat. I'd know once I saw it," I say.

He goes on to try and describe the coat to me, and I stop him; "I probably wouldn't end up wearing it that much, actually, even if I did like it. I'm sure there are other people who would wear it more than I," I say hurriedly. I would feel horrible if any of Cara's possessions just ended up in a closet, and I'm sure that would be the fate of a nice coat like that when put in my care.

The boy nobody plays with

I had to babysit tonight, after a fantastic (yet tiring) day at Showa Boston Institute, and I wasn't sure exactly what I was going to do. For a few years I have refused to babysit because I'm so afraid of doing something wrong with someone else's kid, even though I know I would rake in the dough ($10 an hour is really good for an actual job, let alone babysitting). However, after a particularly expensive purchase, I promised my dad I would babysit for 20 hours in order to help pay for it. (He's brought it down to 15 hours, because it wasn't as expensive as we anticipated, but I would rather pay for all of it and have some left over, rather than my dad claiming him paying for the rest of it was my birthday present.)

Tonight, I babysat for 2 hours. As of right now, I'm only babysitting girls, because all the people I know with boys who would hire me have very violent, hard-to-control boys. Generally, the girls are more low-key.

I was surprised upon entering my neighbor's house how thrilled the girls were to see me. Well, Elly was excited to see me. Hannah was chewing on her blanket. Back a year or two ago, when I came over to be a "mother's helper" (training for babysitting, basically), Elly seemed terrified that I would take their current sitter's place. I don't know what's changed, but at least she didn't bite me this time.

Hannah immediately assaulted me with the picture she'd just drawn, but then decided to show it to her dad because I was being informed what to do in case of an emergency and given mac and cheese.

While we were watching Cinderella III, her masterpiece double-timed as a mat to sit on, but when Hannah decided I was more comfortable, she brought it to my attention again. She explained to me that the blue square was a kitty, the red squiggles were grass and the rabbit heads that looked a bit like jellyfish were children. After pointing out the kitty, she pointed at one of the children, off the the right, apart from all the other children:

"That's Bob," she explained.

"Why is Bob all alone?" I asked her.

"No-one plays with Bob," she replied.

I tried to find out more about Bob, but she soon became distracted with a purple metallic marker.

She also wouldn't let her mom out the door with me, so I have returned home with no further knowledge of Bob and no money, either.

Oh well. It wasn't as if I really had much use for either of them.

I have never seen a duller brown

I usually like taking the bus, despite the bitter cold and long wait for my bus (it's always the last one, about half-an-hour late), but the one thing I try to avoid is that guy. I forgot his name; it really doesn't matter, either, so he's "that guy".

I had suspected before that guy had a crush on me. I was disgusted, and thus pushed the thought out of my mind. If I was going to go straight, it wouldn't be for the likes of him! He's not that short, but is stout and husky. He has a face I suspect even his mother was surprised at and dull brown eyes. He has a twin brother who is about a million times better-looking than him, and I understand why that guy's brother pretends not to even know him. He describes himself as the "fun-loving party-goer" and his brother as the "boring studious one".

It's actually more like this: that guy is the "one who has the ability to be incredibly annoying at all times just by existing" and his brother is the "studious, well-behaved one who has done nothing to deserve the curse of his brother, and has possibly been ostracized by others just by being related to that irritant".

I know it sounds really harsh, but I can't think of anyone who likes that guy. And I don't feel sorry for him, because he really is that annoying.

At any rate, after Josh's bus left (and thus, his friend Alex's hat, which he was lending me because I was cold and had been using Josh's arm as a source of warmth) I went over to talk to Casey and Nellie. Unfortunately, that guy was there too. Casey began encouraging me to kick his ass, and I decided to, literally. I eventually managed to hit my target. (Though it was probably the least well-executed, wimpiest kick I have ever given in my life.)

He looked back in surprise and said: "Oh man, I though you pinched my butt!"

HOW DISGUSTING! If I ever pinched his butt, even accidentally, I would have to have my hands amputated.

I then replied: "I'm never going to lay my hands on anyone's ass other than Rachel's."

He looked a bit confused, mumbled something, and then, in consternation:

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

I looked at him in disgust and exasperation: "No, I have a girlfriend."

"You should get a boyfriend."

Is he hitting on me? There is so much wrong about this!

"Penises are gross. Seriously, I hate them. I plan never to volunatarily look at visual depictions of penises, nor do I ever want to be affiliated with them. Besides that fact, I have an absolutely amazing girlfriend."

"You should get a boyfriend."

What the fuck! How amazingly annoying! Is this boy even in possession of a brain?

"Um... no. I'm perfectly happy with my girlfriend. I doubt anyone could make me happier than she."

Then the bus came. (Thank God.)

During a conversation Casey, Nellie and I were having about eyes, he insisted that he had "mood-ring eyes" ("You can tell what kind of day I'm having by the color of my eyes!").

I don't think I neglected to mention that I have never seem a duller brown.