I Yam Wat I Yam

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Blog note

By Jennifer -
I tried adding a second address to Blogger's comment notification field, but it won't take one. So I did what Phy suggested and set up a filter so comments get mailed to me, then automatically forwarded to him. Pido, let me know if you want to get an E-mail whenever somebody leaves a comment here and I'll add you to it. Also switched the timestamps over to Eastern time. Seemed more appropriate than Pacific. And gave pidomon admin privileges, ceiling cat help us all.
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The Island Gets the Splotchy Virus Again

By Anonymous -
Here's what I would like to do. I want to create a story that branches out in a variety of different, unexpected ways. I don't know how realistic it is, but that's what I'm aiming for. Hopefully, at least one thread of the story can make a decent number of hops before it dies out. If you are one of the carriers of this story virus (i.e. you have been tagged and choose to contribute to it), you will have one responsibility, in addition to contributing your own piece of the story: you will have to tag at least one person that continues your story thread. So, say you tag five people. If four people decide to not participate, it's okay, as long as the fifth one does. And if all five participate, well that's five interesting threads the story spins off into. Not a requirement, but something your readers would appreciate: to help people trace your own particular thread of the narrative, it will be helpful if you include links to the chapters preceding yours. -Splotchy...
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Lot Of Triggers This Week For Some Reason

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I'm not sure what set anything off this week. I just had some very vivid images of Michele at M.D. Anderson, non responsive, with machines beeping and binging, and never opening her eyes while I was there. I had vivid memories of the family meeting with the doctor and making sure Michele's wishes were carried out. I had vivid memories this week of the machines getting quieter and quieter. It seems like yesterday that after her son and daughter said goodbye that I went in the hospital ICU room to get whatever was still in there so they didn't have to. And for some reason the image in my head was looking at Michele, her dead body, knowing she was the best of us and had drawn the short straw,and missing her as much in that moment as I do right now. I love you Michele. Your the best sister a brother could ever ask for.
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