I'm back in the saddle again...

I'm baaaaaaaack.

I'm not sure I really want to be... but I am. Math. I hate math. Here's to four long months. Woo.

I took last semester off, in case anybody was wondering. Not by choice, as I was kind of forced to. It all started when my math class was canceled. Yep. They canceled it mid-summer (I'm thinkin'?) but failed to notify anyone until two weeks before the Fall semester started. Ass. All ass. It wasn't like I could afford a damn math book (plus a zillion dollar online code) AND a computer book (which was almost a zillion dollars). So, I decided that it wasn't worth the hassle and that my college could f*ck off... so yeah, I made the decision to take a break. Work some, take the break, and go back in the Spring. Here I am. Spring 2014.

Ohhhh yeah, I should also add that they canceled my computer class, too. They canceled it on THE morning of the first class meeting. I think I made the right decision.

Math. Wooooo friggin' hooooo!!! My brother had my instructor for two straight semesters. I trust his judgement, so I decided to take Mr. Allen. Only about half of the class understood his humor today... I'm thinkin' it's going to be a looooong semester. I excel in sarcasm and dry humor... so I get it. I should also mention that he looks like a less cuter version of Ryan Gosling. Geezus. 

Oh, and I should also probably mention that about ten or so people that are in my class this semester, were in my previous math class. Yep. One of them, is the the older dude that hit on me a lot (or whatever the f*ck he was trying to do?). Lovely. I saw him standing by the door waiting for class... talk about a deer in the headlights. We made 'small talk'... which means we made long talk, because you cannot make small talk with this guy. The "so, what have you been up to?!" conversation. Me: "Yeah, well... I saw Pearl Jam a few months ago... and that friggin' ruled." He almost fainted. He had no clue that they had even toured, much less came through California. Five seconds or so later, "Ah, man... I have some old, rare footage of Mother... --- I CUT HIM OFF SO FAST TO SQUEEEE, LIKE THE MOTHER LOVE BONE FAN GIRL THAT I AM. OMG. --- ... Love Bone on VHS. Man... their singer... he was amazing. Just... the way he sang..." Me: "ANDYYYY!!!! I love Andy Wood. He was great. One of the greatest. He seemed like he had an amazing personality." Then he proceeded to ask if I had seen the new (it's not new) PJ documentary movie. "Zillions of times. I've watched it four times in the last two days. Vh1 Classic and Palladia love to feed my addiction. I also own it on DVD."

Ooookayyy... this dude... we can be friends. I think. I think? Yeah, maybe. I mean, he mentioned Mother Love Bone before I even threw that name out there. It takes a special breed. He flipped out when I spoke the MLB language right back to him. I seriously think that people think that I am secretly some 40-year-old police spy (who looks 12) who takes classes/hangs out on campus so I can spy on anyone doing illegal stuff on campus. That's how people make me feel sometimes... haha! I'm just a rad 27-year-old. That's all ;)

The second person being, the Marq Torien/Nathan Parsons look-alike. Dude... I KNOW!!! I do not need a repeat of that. If this semester is going to be a repeat... no, I do not need any repeats. He was one of the last people to walk in. He sat two seats away from me. Of course he did. However, he is not enrolled in the class and he wasn't on the wait list. I don't know if he got in or not... I guess I'll see on Thursday. Geezus.

Today's lecture wasn't too bad. We got through the first two sections of chapter 1. I can do that stuff. I can do that stuff almost in my sleep. Anything after chapter 1... probably not. heh.

Where should I go next with this thing? The fact that I hate funerals or that Tim Burton will forever be a genius in my mind?

Okay, I'm gonna go with Tim Burton forever being a genius in my mind. 

(Still photo from 'Big Fish')

"Big Fish" was one of the few Tim Burton films that I hadn't seen. I knew Pearl Jam had a song on the soundtrack (it plays in the closing credits) "Man of the Hour" and it's one of my fave songs. For some reason, I just never saw it. Dish on-Demand or whatever it's called has had it in their "free movie section" for a while now and I was going to watch it, but I forgot about it. Hey, it sucks getting old, kids. Heh. Anywayyy... my Uncle was an absolute mess, the day after my Grandfather passed. In between sobs, he kept talking about how he was so happy and so glad that they were able to take my Grandfather on his last fishing trip (my grandfather LOVED to fish. LOVED.) He kept talking about how he caught some big fish. Every other sentence, he talked about big fish... big fish... big fish. Ding, ding, ding... the light bulb went on. It was rather bright, too. I had heard Eddie Vedder talk about it... and I was thinking to myself, 'okay... I'll watch it. But not now. NOT now.' A few nights later, I was surfing through the 'free movies' on Dish and passed by Big Fish... "Nope!" Then I heard a voice, and it was singing "She ain't got no yo-yo"... "Yep!" and I went back to Big Fish and pressed the play button. So, I kinda love that movie. I do. The Ved was right. One can not finish that movie and leave with a dry eye, let me tell ya people. Damn. The end was what got me. Billy Crudup's character says something like, "my father was a big fish"... yeah, well, my grandfather was big fish. The imagery in that scene along with that quote was the start of some kind of a healing process... or maybe some sort of reassurance? That part made me bawl but it also made me smile. So yeah, Tim Burton can do no wrong, in my mind. Even the awkwardly uncomfortable "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory"... yeah. A genius you are, Tim.

I think I've depressed myself enough (and probably depressed anyone reading this), so I won't even go into my grandfather's funeral. Or maybe I should? Yeah. I will. It took place last Friday. People were sobbing before the damn thing even started. I don't know who had the bright idea to have a picture montage thing playing on the TV screen as everyone arrived (fully equipped with SAD music in the background)... but yeah, good friggin' job. AND when I first noticed it, it just so happened to be showing a picture of myself, my mother, brother, father, and grandmother WITH my grandfather last year on his birthday. GEEZUS. They must've looped that thing at least 3 times before the service even started. Once was enough, thanks. Like, my father was crying. I heard it. Whoa.

My grandfather was a vet (Korean War) so they started the service with a prayer and the traditional army presentation... "Taps". Friggin' "Taps". No. It was all downhill for me and probably everyone else from there. The guy officiating the service was a relative... a hilarious relative, and I knew he would do it right and make us smile, as well as laugh. However, even the funniest story still made a lot of us cry. Just, damnit. Damnit, I say. Every other sentence "and he loved to fish." Flashbacks to 'Big Fish' kept happening and yeah, I couldn't help but tear up. I think I had a dry eye for all of 5-10 minutes during the entire thing. My grandma laughed and tried to smile during the stories and what-not... but you can tell she was hurting. My uncle was about to break down but he managed to stay cool. My grandfather's sister sat in between my mother and I... hearing or seeing her cry would make me cry. Seeing random relatives, friends and former co-workers cry and hearing them tell their stories = no. Seeing my mother cry would make me cry. Seeing my father cry... let's just put it this way, I'm 27-years-old (almost 28), and I've probably seen my father cry maybe four or five times in my entire life. Just like my grandma, when my father cries... that's some serious stuff. I sensed that someone else was about to break down, but I tried to let him be... until the end when everyone was encouraged to give their 'final goodbyes' to the urn and what-not. I absolutely could not. The people within our family circle, absolutely could not. I can still see certain people breaking down in my mind and it still straight up destroys me. It probably will for a while. Hell, I even hugged a few people that I would NEVER hug (let alone touch) otherwise. Duuuuuuude. I even hugged my mother's biological "mother". Well, she kind of attack-hugged me... but I didn't exactly resist. Yeah.

The after party... no, um... the after shindig thingy-ma-bobber... whatever the hell it's called? THAT was interesting. Most of the people there I had no knowledge of. A lot of the people there I hadn't seen since I was probably a kid? Yeah, I kinda just kept to myself and stayed within my circle (mom, dad, brother). 

Some genius (I won't name names) thought it was a good idea to take a family photo. Yeeeeahhhh because let's all SMILE (because we were all sooooo happy. Woo!) and make that a friggin' family reunion photo. I cackled. I really did. I knew that was going to happen. I just knew. A post-funeral shindig thingy-ma-bobber is NO place for a 'family photo'. It was actually hilarious, though. I love let's all smile because we were told to smile but we don't really want to smile, pictures. I would post the picture... but taking the actual picture itself was already somewhat ill-advised.

Soooo yeah... that's what's been going on in the life of Liz...

I will now go and watch episodes of "Mr. Belvedere", because... well... why the hell not?!