First Instinct

It still surprises me that after all this time, my first instinct when something extremely exciting or traumatic happens is to call my love. I found a job posting this morning and dialed the number to the ranch and hung up after one ring when I realized that not only is she not at the ranch, but no one is, as her parents are at the hospital - her dad has been admitted and her brother went to live with her aunt for a while.

I've had very limited contact with her mom and her brother lately and her father is in very poor condition after falling off the tractor due to heart problems. I hadn't realized how much I still cared for her parents until her little brother sent me a scared email about their dad. I mean, when people blame you for the death of their child, even if that blame is entirely misplaced, it's hard not to be angry, but they are still family, and I guess always will be.

Update

Strange times have been had. I have inflammation of my ribcage, which Ginkgo Girl, as H will heretoforth be known in this blog, (yes, I did write this sentence that way to get to use the word heretoforth), thinks she caused by sleeping on my chest. I highly doubt this.

Getting through the middle of July was particularly hard this year.

My love's father is recovering from serious injury.

A friend from NUJLS came to visit. We had lots of fun and took advantage of his chemistry knowledge.

Minute by Minute

Minute by minute I'm trying to slog through the day. I've even done a few productive things today and managed to eat a little. I'm trying to remember the good things. There were so many good things.

July 12

Ten years ago, I was happy. I was just another happy camper (literally) at OSRUI having a good time in Chalutzim and putting finishing touches on Yom Horim. I spent menuchah and a little time after lights out writing letters to my girlfriend. I guess it's funny that I don't particularly remember July, 12, 2000 as I had no reason to when it happened. Why should a random Wednesday at camp stick out particularly more than any other day, especially when I didn't know that I would want to remember that day.

In fact, the only thing I know to have happened on that day happened 500 miles away from Oconomowoc. And I didn't know until three days later.

Today, on the other hand, I'm a wreck.

Nomenclature dilemma

I was going to refer to H as LBG on my blog. LBG, standing for little blonde girl, a term by which she self identifies, would read too much like LBJ, not particularly one of her favorite former presidents. So, I'm trying to think of other options, because initials are silly.

In any event, I met her parents and her sister this weekend, which went rather better than when she met my parents. I think my brother would like her though, not that my parents don't, but they have a funny way of showing it. Not that I really care what my brother thinks.

Also, I confirmed I lost something of importance from my love today. I lost it a while ago but was living under the delusion that I would find it somewhere in my mess. I can no longer live under that illusion. I realize that stuff is stuff, and that memories are more important than stuff, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to hold on to what little stuff I have from her.