And then…

Within a month (or so) of meeting Timothy, I met Julia. =O (Trust me, she’s crazy. You don’t want to know.)

 

So, a little history, right? No. History is boring, people. What’s wrong with you? Silly. Anyway.

 

I’m staying with my grandparents. All alone. Because my mother deserted me! And sent me off to live with someone else! -sob- Actually, that’s not true. She didn’t desert me. I deserted her. Which is what happens when childrens grow up. Apparently, I haven’t done that yet, though, because they’ve put a time limit on how long I’m allowed to be all growed up. =D

 

After this lovely, exciting, adventure-full two weeks with my grandparents, where I do lots of lovely, exciting, adventure-full things… then I go to Canada, where I get to spend 7 weeks… doing things. (Don’t ask. I have no idea. >.> ) Aaaafter those splendid weeks in Canada, then I return to the States, where I will spend… I don’t know how long… with my brother. Because he loves me. Obviously. Psh. Silly.

 

And all this… for (almost) free! *throws confetti* Why? … I don’t know. God loves me? :anxious:

 

Yes. Yes, yes, yes. No? Oh. I don’t know. I’m tired. I think it’s around this time that I decide I need sleep, or something. Besides, they’re looking at me funnily. =O

 

But! I would like to state that besides Julia being crazy, she’s also a lot of fun. =D

 

Thank you, and goodnight!

And So It Ends…

Gracious. So, Cherith and Timothy have officially met. And survived the encounter. =O

That child has no end of energy. :noway:

Apparently, I have an anti-aura that breaks everything. Fortunately, Timothy was able to magically appear beside me whenever I broke something, and just fix it with *his* aura. Seriously. Something would be broken… and he’d stand there, silently watching me with a grave expression on his face. And then it would work… and he’d mock me. =( I got that a lot. *nods*

So, anyway. To explain. This group came, and they were like, really a lot of computer geeks. And perfectionists. And so they sat at their computers and did things. While I wandered around, bored to death. Because Timothy’s a grouch, and refused to entertain me. It was distressing. *nods sadly*

I cooked a lot. Always too much, too gross, or not enough, but anyway. *cough* They ate it, and some of them even liked it. =O AND OH MY GOODNESS. Timothy eats less than I do!

So yeah. That’s it. *beams* I need to sleep for a few weeks straight. *nods sagely*

Picture of us both together was taken, too, which was astounding. \:D/

*coughs and adds a disclamer about how Valentine’s Day isn’t *alll* bad*

Today’s a very special day
It fills our hearts with glee
We tell each other about our thoughts
While filling ourselves with sweets

And even though my mouth’s too full
To tell you how I feel
I think you’ll understand the words
I chose for you today

I’d love to say ‘I love you,’
But it’s the chocolate that I want
So get your sticky hands off mine
And go find someone else

gasp. Aren’t we polite.

You know… today’s a great day for everyone who’s feeling lovey-dovey, but what about those people whose husband just died? Whose sibling is in the hospital, in a coma? Whose fiance is in another country, fighting, or whatever it is they do these days?

That’s what I thought. Who cares about *them*? They’d dampen our spirits, so pass the chocolate and play that L-O-V-E song, again! =D

As a side note, that cellphone has an annoying alarm. *pats it* I’m awake, thank you. Go find someone else to bother.

*traipses off to take her pills and eat breakfast ALL ALONE* (Oooh, psyco-analize me and find out that the reason I don’t like Valentine’s Day is because I was ABANDONED at a young AGE! *sob*)

*watches her hands freeze off*

“Grandfather, look! You have lived to see another Arizona sunrise!”

So, Kari and I decided — Okay, fine. I decided. Kari just sorta stood there staring at me like I had lost my mind. Which I haven’t, by the way. It’s still very much… around. Anyway. I decided that it would be the coolest thing ever to die on the evening of December 31st. Wouldn’t it? Having lasted alllll that time, and then never getting to see the dawn of the next day, which just happened to be the next year, as well? Yes. Very cool. Mother says I got my morbid mind from reading too many books, but I told her it was her fault because she bore me, anyway. She didn’t believe me.

And yup, that’s all I wanted to say. Dying on New Year’s Eve would be really cool. *nods and waddles off*

Operation: SAT

WAS A COMPLETE FAILURE!

 

Actually, it wasn’t. The test has been taken; Cherith is still alive. Sounds pretty successful to me.

 

Actually, I am more than alive. I am exuberant. Sleepy, but very, very happy. I didn’t do so hot on the math sections, but I was not really expecting to, anyway. I feel pretty good about the written sections, though. And I only hit my head on the desk once. *beams* Aren’t I special.

 

So I step outside of the *FREEZING* building, and I look around, squinting into the warm, bright sun and I see OH LOOK IT’S DAD. He wasn’t late. Hah, he was even early! Anyway. So then we (Jorge drove us there and back) stopped at a tornillo place, which basically means that dad and he spent almost an hour picking out just the right screws to fix Jorge’s shower head. So then we finally arrive back at the church and we eat this… extremely greasy and really, really good soup. And then dad shoo’s me off to Jorge’s office and disappears to fix said shower head. Uhm… okay? Just take your time. I’m not at all tired after spending 6 hours sitting in a freezing room with a bunch of giggling and talkative kids who are *way* older than me. I’m not dying to get home so I can sleep in a real bed and do just that. Sleep.

 

Did I mention that I spent all last night telling my body to fall asleep? I wasn’t nervous. Really. I was pretty calm, all things considered. Actually, I was kind of just in denial, but it amounts to the same thing! I was kind of in a almost-sleep all night. I knew I wasn’t asleep, but I wasn’t quite awake either. I finally gave up and got up at around 6:15. Dad was awake, too. I washed my hair with a bottle of water (it was cold. And interesting. But if my hair isn’t cooperating, it causes great distress to my soul. And I did not need more distractions) and then we had some eggs and beans. And then Jorge drove us to Escuela John F. Kennedy. No. I am not joking. What a dumb thing to name your school, huh? But since they strive to be as American as possible, I guess I sorta forgive them. Hah.

 

¨No parents past this point, please.¨ Hah. I pulled dad along until we arrived at the classroom. Actually, I think it was a gym-type-thing. It was cold. We walk in and I hear my name being called. ¨Uhm, present?¨ A woman looks at me. ¨Are you from this school?¨ Do I LOOK like I’m from your school, woman? I didn’t think so. And I speak Spanish. ¨No.¨ ¨Admission ticket?¨ I fumble with my backpack zipper until I finally get it open and pull out a folder. She looks it over and tells me to take a seat. I start towards the back of the room, and a hand stops me. ¨Go sit up there in the stands for right now.¨ Erm… okay? So I go join a few kids in the stands until all the names get called and they sort us all out. ¨Uhm, can I go sit down now?¨ She nods vaguely and I make my way to the very, very back of the room. I get closterphobic when I’m in the middle of a room with people behind me. *beams*

 

And then I realize that I forgot to bring along my Admission ticket. So I walk back down the long aisle and retrieve my ticket, switching pencils while I’m at it. I take my purse along because I did NOT want to leave it sitting there along with everyone elses bags. It had my passport *and* my residence card in it. Not happening. So I finally get seated, and everyone sorta mills around until the guy who was calling out our names tells us to quiet down. No one listens. He says it again, this time in Spanish. It worked, sort of. The guy was obviously an American; it made me feel better, for some odd reason. He gives us our instructions, one step at a time as we fill out the front of our answer sheets and the like. Finally, after what seems like an age, the test begins.

 

Tick tock, tick tock, people. Don’t waste time staring off into space, you’ve got a test to take! I concentrated pretty well, all things considered. My mind was working, too, which was surprising. It hasn’t worked right for a long time. The time went slowly, not quickly as I had thought it would. I completed each section with time to spare and I even caught a mistake because of being able to go back through my answers. I wiggled, I chewed on my nails, I wished I were anywhere but right there, I pleaded with God to keep my mind working… and finally, finally I heard those blessed words. ¨All right. Put down your pencils. That was the last section; you are now done with the test.¨ I could have jumped up and hugged the guy. Kids started standing up, milling around. ¨Stay seated, kids. We’ve still got to pick up your booklets.¨ Maybe it’s actually a school filled with deaf people instead of super-smart ones. No one listened. ¨Don’t leave the building!¨ He pleaded, he threatened… and they walked out the door. I sat at my desk like a good girl, smirking at his distress. He finally gave up and went back to looking through the booklets to make sure they were all there.

 

¨Okay,¨ he said to a near-empty room. ¨You can go now. Congratulations on finishing the test. I’m proud of you guys. See you on Monday!¨ I stood up and walked out the door, picking my backpack up on the way out. Happy? I asked myself. Relieved, was the answer. Thoroughly and wonderfully relieved. What now?

 

I’m still working on that one.

Winter is here…

Hello, goodbye. I see a tear drop. I see a frown.

Dumb poem.

Anyway.

Hi. *beams* I haz returned from my absence. Internet is a lovely thing, except when it doesn’t work.

But now I’m hungry. So I’ll just go eat and spare anyone who is dumb enough to read this. (Yes, that means you, Julia. =D)

*waddles off to find food and some warm slippers*

Oh and SCREAM AND SHOUT AND JUMP AROUND. There will be no dessert for anyone who doesn’t. :noway:

And on a more serious note, if you would all keep me in your prayers this weekend as I have an SAT test coming up and we are slightly (slightly? … monstrously) worried that my heart might freak out along with my mind when I take it…. I would be most appreciative. =)
*trips on her way to the kitchen*

The End.

“And they lived happily ever after. The end.” The end comes after the forever. How does that work?

I survived another CCI conference. Kinda.

“Todo lo que se es blah blah blah, I fell in looveee…” Anyway. Even though rap is evil, Vida Mia is an incredible song. It’s the plea of an unborn child to its mother. Absolutely amazing. But the best part is that I got Juan to sing the whole thing from memory while I recorded it on my cord-less mp3 player.

Did I mention that my backpack got stolen? Yeah. Buh bye, muzik.

Buses are evil, just so you know. But worse than the buses are the bus drivers. When it’s hot outside, turn on the air conditioner. When it gets cold TURN ON THE HEATER. *dies* Oh. And if you can, avoid ADO. There’s no leg room between the seats. Just terrible. *shakes her head in disgust*

Oh, oh, oh! If you come from Tabasco, you’re automatically one of my best friends. Just so you know. *nods*

I went barefoot all weekend. Everyone found it funny… but it was necessary procedure. My feet swolleded up so badly that they didn’t fit in my shoes. (Shoes are evil, too, by the way.) And then thanks to the fact that we had to walk 1/5 of the way home from the bus station (WHICH IS A LONG WAY, PEOPLE), even my legs were huuuge when we arrived. Mother, as any good mother would have, naturally freaked out and demanded that I lay down and oh, so dramatic because dad was letting me kill myself and oh no, my pills aren’t working and oh my heart I’m going to die because said heart isn’t getting blood to my limbs.

Thanks mom, but uhm… I already knew all that. *smiles angelically*

I got given three bracelets and the ghost shadow of a ring while I was away. Yes. I’m wearing all four things. :noway:

I got to meet Fanny’s family, and GOODNESS GRACIOUS. Nicest people I have EVER met. They fell all over me and dad. I have no idea what exaggerations Fanny told them, but obviously they thought we were pretty spectacular. They showed us around the city, took us to the bus station to buy tickets (yay for staying even later than necessary just because we can?), and then to the house of someone who grows chocolate trees. Cocoa, in Spanish. Do they call them the same thing in English? Anyway. We learned (again. Yay for CCI and its educational tourist trips) about how chocolate is made. And then I got to watch as the owner picked a cocoa pod, sliced it open with a machete and took a bite out of the white stuff. It looked sick. But booyyyy, did it taste gooood. Very good. I could have gone on eating the creamy, white seeds until the day I die. Which, apparently, isn’t too far off, or something.

So. I left thinking, “Oh, yay. I can act normal for once because no one will know that I was just on my death bed.” And then the first thing people say to me when they greet me is, “Oh! I heard you were sick! How are you feeelinggg?!” I hate it when people ooze sympathy, but it’s even worse when it’s authentic. Anyway. As if everyone (one hundred and forty-ish people, actually) didn’t already know about how I’m obviously too ill to be making such a terribly exhausting trip (okay, it was long, but c’mon. You just have to sit there…), Saul, a member of the CCI board of directors, announces to the WHOLE ENTIRE CONFERENCE that I need prayer because I have a heart condition. Oh boy. So I die while everyone turns to stare at me. And then HE CALLS ME UP TO THE FRONT OF THE ROOM. I wouldn’t have gone, but Wilber was called up too (he had just gotted better from being stabbed to death. Which, yeah, is not only incredibly amazing, but also really sad. He has a sweet scar, though. :anxious:). So Wilber, some old American guy and I went up to the front and had to sing CCI’s song, or whatever. And do the hand motions. >.>

And then Ale hugged me and smiled a really good “you’re so young…” smile and I went back to my seat. *bangs her head against the wall* After the announcements were over, Juan comes up to me, strumming casually on his guitar and said even more casually, “You didn’t tell me you were sick.” As though I tell every person I just met that I have a medical condition. People are so weird. Anyway. Then he wanted to know all about it. And then later, the next day, I think, one of the Americans who had prayed for me came up to me where I was sitting on a table talking with Juan. And he goes, “Why don’t you explain to me why I was praying for you yesterday.” And I was S:OEIHGJRI:J. But I was a good girl and I started telling him. But then the medical words got too complicated and I resorted to English and “So yeah… it’s complicated.” He nodded, thanked me, told me to keep trusting in God and walked away.

And I sigh with relief and turn back to Juan, about to apologize for speaking in English (because they all hate that). And he’s looking at me with his dark brown eyes, his face so serious. And he says, while fiddling with his keys (he fiddles almost as much as I do. 0_o), “There’s no cure?” And I was rendered speechless. “I said that in Spanish?” I demanded, perfectly positive that I had not. “No,” he answered, looking down at his keys. “You said it in English. There’s no cure?” And he looks back at me with those big, almost-black eyes and I grit my teeth and force a smile. “Nah,” I tell him lightly. “I’m stuck taking pills for forever.” And he kept looking at me sadly, oh so seriously, as though we were discussing the murder of some pour helpless animal.

I’M FINE, PEOPLE. I’M FINE. Or I would be if you’d all stop obsessing over things. My dad… oh boy. My dad… . My dad loves me. I’ve NEVER seen him care about something the way he does about me. “Have you taken your pills?” “How are you feeling, Bah-bah?” “You need anything?” “Here, let me get you more juice.” “Sit here while I go find someone to talk to you.” It was a good thing I was too busy to stay in one place long enough. I probably would have exploded from the attention. Thankfully, Tabasco-ens still tease the living day lights out of me for doing pretty much not much, so we’re good.

Which was another thing. Everyone (Tabasco teens) knew me. >.> And I didn’t know them. Which is a very uncomfortable situation in which to find yourself. “Hiii! You’re Cherith, right? I’ve heard SO much about you. I’m such and such a person. Such and such a person has told me SO much about you!” <.< But it’s okay. Because I know them all know. =P

And this is where I say that maybe, just maybe, there are some people in this world that have the capacity of changing my perspectives on humanity. I have never much such mature, caring, loving, fun, adapting and out going teens in the span of my short existence. They just… love me. “Hi,” and all of a sudden I’m one of them. One of them… but they still have this silly notion that I know more than them about camps. Oh. And I’m actually in my twenties. >.> That number grows every year. Note to self: walking around barefoot all weekend because I have “an allergic reaction to shoes,” stumbling over my words in two languages, having to ask almost everyone to repeat themselves over and over again and then my reputation for being… me… from the past three years…. isn’t enough to convince people that I’m not all that stupendous. They *still* think I’m a lot of fun. They sacrificed their whole afternoon/night just to drop by Fanny’s house and hang out with me before we left on the bus.

And I really, really need to find a new cord for my mp3 player so I can get these recordings on my computer, fix them up, and put them on repeat for the next few months. =D

I got Patty to agree with me that the people in Tabasco talk funnily. And I’m not the only one who has trouble understanding them. “N’k'ver.” Chico (no. I don’t know his real name. Deal with it), Raquel, Samuel, Oscar, Mary Carmen, Chuleta (and I can’t pronounce her real name…), Wilber, Ivan, Obed, Nelson, Jesus, Karla, Juan and all the rest are some of the coolest people on the planet. (Julia is an exception, as is Danike. Everyone knows they’re the coolest people ever.) They’re so talented. And they love camps. Except Juan. But that’s okay, because his amazing voice makes that forgivable. Kinda. We’ll convert him soon enough.

So yes. Here’s to the most miserable and amazing weekend of my life. *waddles off to catch up on her sleep* (Did I mention that I’ve had like, 10 hours of sleep since like, the Monday before yesterday? Yeah…)

News about my future college plans will be forthcoming. After I get the details sorted out, go into denial, come out and then plunge back into my boring, dull and depressingly unexciting life. Thank you for your attention and if you didn’t read most of that, don’t worry. I probably didn’t mean half of it. I need sleep…