So. Life.
Life happens. It's been pretty awful to me, with some rays of sunshine here and there.
In January, my biological paternal great grandmother died from a terminal illness that no one thought was prudent to tell me she had. Yeah. I found out she died through fucking facebook. I hate my biological father's family, they're all assholes.
The dog my family has had since I was seven died in February. Attacked by coyotes.
In March, my grandmother, who I told you back in October had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, passed away. I'm still having a hard time believing it.
In April, my maternal great grandmother died.
I failed almost all of my classes in first semester, and just did poorly in second.
So of course, my financial aid was taken away. But that's my fault.
In general I've been pretty depressed and lonely since I'm living up here with no friends and no family.
I'm living in an apartment now. It's three rooms, each with a single person in them. I got a job as a cashier at Walmart.
My initial roommate's name is Sam, a tall scrawny asian guy whose parents own the house/apartment. He's nice. A bit lazy on the housework, sometimes noisy, but prompt about paying bills, and in general a very nice guy. He's 24
We've had two different roommates since I moved in at the end of April. The first was this cool chick named Marjory who work for Utah Conservation Corps. She was gone a lot, but very friendly. She was like 26-ish? I had a crush on her.
I'm only glad she's gone because it means her friend won't be around anymore. The guy first guy I've ever had sex with. The guy I never actually wanted to have sex with. I'm glad she's gone because he doesn't hang around anymore.
Our new roommate just moved in this week. Her name is Muriel. She's nice, and she has a fuckton of stuff. She's 24, too, and went to high school with Sam. She's... very attractive, but presumably straight.
Oh, and I have a dog. He's a big, furry Siberian Husky, and the friendliest dog you'll ever meet. He's a total bro. He's pretty much the best part of my life. His name is Roggvir. Rogg for short.
My baby brother, Talon, is getting big. He walks now, and talks a little. Mom sends me lots of pictures.
Rogg: http://i292.photobucket.com/albums/mm36/Lyexsah/IMG_0682.jpg
http://i292.photobucket.com/albums/mm36/Lyexsah/IMG_0687.jpg
http://i292.photobucket.com/albums/mm36/Lyexsah/IMG_0678.jpg
Talon: http://i292.photobucket.com/albums/mm36/Lyexsah/IMG_0644.jpg
http://i292.photobucket.com/albums/mm36/Lyexsah/IMG_0648.jpg
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Comments
Sorry to hear about,
Your great grandmother's passing. Sorry about your dog too. Yeah, sometimes family members act like idiots with regard to telling the younger members about a parent/grandparent who becomes seriously ill. They think they are sheltering you from the heartache it can cause. I hope you can move past this in school. Your concentration was likely affected due to the recent rash of death's in the family. Good luck in the future.
Yeah.
It's pretty awful. But really they didn't tell me that she was sick because they didn't give a damn if I knew or not. That side of my family would prefer that I didn't exist.
I'm sorry about your losses.
I'm sorry about your losses. That's a lot to take in. It really sucks that you had to find out about your great grandmother through Facebook. Your family really should've told you so you at least could've been prepared.
Your dog is really, really cute. Huskies are my favorite dog breed and I want one soooo badly. I've never seen one that long-haired though. Is he a mix, perhaps?
Honestly
Yeah, it's pretty shitty. But it happens, whatever.
The shelter says he is a Husky because his previous owners said he was a Husky. I really, strongly suspect he's an Alaskan Malamute, which is pretty much just a bigger, furrier version of a Husky.
He's a sweetheart, and he's made me feel a lot better these days.