Easter Disbelief

I don’t know how it is for other families, but mine never seemed to try to convince me about the Easter Bunny.

I believed in Santa Clause, yes, but the parents seemed to try with that one, and succeeded, but trying to convince me that the Easter bunny was real…

The baskets with chocolate happened, appearing in the living room in the morning, but I remember finding the stash of chocolate to go into those baskets before.

Easter was a belief that walked hand in hand with the Tooth Fairy.

I would, when I lost a tooth, go up to Mom or Dad and present them with the tooth so that they could make sure that the money would happen.

If it was from them giving it to a fairy, I didn’t much care, but I wanted the money so I could either put it in my piggy bank or so I could buy pixie sticks or something.

I’m fairly certain that when hiding the plastic eggs that they had filled with chocolate, it was more for the game or it.

It wasn’t like having a number of gifts labeled “From Santa”, no, it was more like a way to earn the chocolate that would be split between me and my sisters, and then rationed throughout the next month to last.

It was a chance for Mom and Dad to sit back and have us search in ‘turns’ for an egg, yet another holiday that meant we were barred from the living room, it was a holiday that was sort of like Halloween except that you got the day off school and you didn’t have to walk for candy.

It was magical, for sure, and it still is now even when it’s going on about whose ‘turn’ it is to be the Easter Bunny in the house.

That meant that you were the one who went to Bulk Barn for the loot.

Quite possibly it was the overused picture of the cartoonized bunny hiding eggs in a field that made belief impossible. Our eggs were hidden in our living room. I never found eggs outside.

But, my rambling about a holiday with a magical being in it that we weren’t forced/cajoled into believing in aside, I want to know if anyone else had this?

Did anyone else joke like you’re actually 20 years older than your 7 year old self about the Easter Bunny having come?

Do you (if you’re a parent) try your best to feed this belief that a rabbit deposits chocolate for you once a year?

Just me being curious.

Oh, and Happy Easter ūüėÄ

P.S. Lexy, I think we have bunny ears from an old Halloween costume somewhere...

Gone, Gone, Going…? Now? No. … Now?

I am currently waiting for laundry to be done, and feeling alternating feelings (no duh) of chest constricting stress and  fluttery anxiety, and chest constricting anticipation and fluttery excitement.

I leave for Grundy Park tomorrow, probably at the crack of dawn should I ask Dad now, and I am starting and finishing my packing today.

Yes I’m late, but I’m a procrastinator almost by nature. I’m procrastinating¬†waiting for laundry to be done, because a while ago, I had my laundry waiting for me to bring it upstairs, and it was sitting in front of our freezer, which was left open, and it leaked.

I moved my stuff after it got wet, and left it down there to be done again when the washer was next free.

Mold grew.

I washed it twice.

I am washing it again, to get the sour-ish smell from it before I go.

I am not packing my stuff into a suitcase, because¬†my Mom says that it’d be easier to pack in the car if it were in these huge, 3fx1fx2f¬†ish plastic bins, so I have a plastic bin¬†in my room, in the hall outside of my room, one downstairs by my nearly-done laundry, and one in the front room of my house.

Scratch that, I have TWO (Three)¬†in the front room, because I need one separate for sleeping things such as sheets and pj’s.

It feels very much so as if I should be going right now, but then the chest crushing gets tighter with the feeling of Holy-I’m-Not-DONE-PACKING! untill I reassure myself and my insane part that no, we aren’t leaving right yet.

And then the sane part of me thinks of something.

What if I forget something!!!

Insane hears this as well, and slaps Sane on the head.

It’s because we’re not done PACKING! Get to work we’ve got like an hour to get everything together and in the car!

 Sane runs into a wall.

DOOM!

No, we aren’t leaving untill tomorrow, I reassure myself. And Laundry cannot be rushed.

And so I stand in front of the Door of Panic with my trusty Gandalf Wizard Staff solidly blocking the way.

From myself.

*sigh* Am I sure that there is actually an insane side, and it’s not just me?

Yes. I just happen to be strongly influenced by myInsane side when writing. Every writer has this part of them, it just so happens that mine feels the need to talk to me occassionally.

Insane people are in Sane people, and neither part are going past me to the Panic Room, because a)nothing gets done there, and b) NONE SHALL PASS!

All LOTR Gandalf the Grey jokes and references aside, I shall finish the Laundry of Impending Doom, cut it down to be hidden away in the Boxes of Plastic Containment, sealed away untill they are needed to fight the foe called Nakedness.

Shoot I gotta find myself some nail clippers, and perhaps a few more pairs of wool work socks.

Did you know that Costco has awesome underwear on sale? You wouldn’t think so, but they are comfortable.

A while ago, how many days ago matters not, Mum brought me to Costco to stock up on food items that will help in my quest of survival for the coming 2 months.

Working at a park is different from working as a Ranger in many ways, and one of which is that we don’t have chefs to cook and buy¬†our food.

¬†For the last couple of weeks Dad has been storing away chili¬†and stew and hamburger patties in the freezer, either in sealed plastic¬†bags or in Tupperware , so that for at least the first two weeks of no-trips-into-town-to-buy-food I might be able to survive. I am extremely thankful that we get a lot of freezer space at Grundy (everyone, not just me, though I’d like to believe I AM that special).

I will also be leaving with print out and digital recipes of such things as stew, easy stroganoff (which is not a loose, sexually active Swedish general), salsa-couscous chicken, and many-layered salads.

We bought juice,¬†meat, some veggies, cookies (the important things), underwear (they’re nice ūüėÄ Sane: Don’t SAY that! Insane: BWAHAHA!)¬†, and a whole slew of bread for me to make my main source of sustenance for during the day: Sandwiches.

To the sound of Pocahontas’ “Savages”:

Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Hardly ever Eaten! Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Where is my Mayonnaise?!

Credited to my friends (from rangers)¬†sister. Google Map Delta. It’s a place. They live there.¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† ūüėÄ

WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!

No.

Food is packed away, and I think that I’ll go through the plastic bins tha I have already and sort out the mixes of shirts, sweaters, pants, and shorts from in them.

I will probably have way more than I need, but…

Rather have more than I need than not enough.

Right.

 BUT WHAT IF SOMETHING IS FORGOTTEN???!!!

No. Grundy is 4 hours or so away, and the Parents will be visiting fairly regularly! Back!!! Back from the gates of Panic!

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

¬†So tomorrow I’m gone, or going, or whatever, and I’ll probably be freaking out.

By the end of the first week I’ll likely be fine, but then I’ll start being paranoid about what, exactly I’ll have forgotten.

Because I will have forgotten SOMETHING.

But that is edging around my Gandalf staff, (BWAHA!), so we shall move on.

I was procrastinating a bit earlier, reading one of the books I liberated from my Mom’s school (they have a better library, and because she’s a teacher there, she can take them out over the summer), called “The Book of Lost Things” by John Connolly. The link will bring you to his site on it.

It’s good.

Like, Really good.

Most times I can predict what will happen at the end of the book by the time I get through the first 3-5 chapters, and I had a bit of¬†a feeling about what would happen, but so many things happened that promised a slightly different outcome,¬†I couldn’t put it down.

Of course, since Lexy probably won’t be reading this untill I’m long gone, I can freely admit that instead of folding laundry a bit earlier, i was reading this. I put it away any time someone came down to the basement, and started fiddling with laundry.

I still got a lot done, even while reading it.

…Weird.

The dryer just made it’s¬†“I’m-done” jingle noise (sounds a bit like a small part of an ice-cream¬†truck’s jingle), and this is getting kind of long, so I’ll bid you all goodbye for now. Whether I post small segments about my work for the next 2 months depends on if the claim to internet access is true or not.

Ciao!

~Doodled93~

Insane: THERE’S NO MORE TIME!

P.S. Afterthought: It is now about¬†10:28 pm, and I pretty much have everything packed, but I look at my 2 bins of clothing, my 1/4 bin of work clothes, and my slightly bursting bin of sleeping¬†stuff (it has a sleeping bag and pillow in it), and I feel I am missing a lot. Clothing-wise. I know I am not anywhere done my toiletries packing, as i currently have only JUST put the all-important nail clippers in my tinier¬†toiletries¬†bin, and I have no swim towel, no shower towel, and all of my electronics (including an EXTREMELY IMPORTANT digital alarm clock) are scattered around my house. Mostly uncharged too. Anyone else finish packing and look at your stuff and thing “nope. Not done.”? Also, pj’s is underlined in red, as well as bin. That is rediculous!

Doodled93 aka Tall Sister

Hey all!

This is Tall Sister (known from Lexy0387’s Gone for a Walk), but¬† more commonly known as Doodled93 at fanfiction.net, wattpad.com, and fictionpress.com, and probably other, future writing venues. Yes, for those of you who know, I am indeed the one who helped savagely prepare a duck last February during our family’s Hogswatch, (you can also look it up in the Terry Pratchett Wiki) I am the one who takes a good portion of the rather, if I do say so myself, glorious/gorgeous pictures for the blog (though, yes, a lot of them are found online as well)…

If you know me from any of the other writing venues (more likely in fanfiction I believe), you will know (or not, depending) that I have major issues holding personal work and proffessional work hand in hand, in equality, and more often than not end up freaking out about updating a story because I was finishing an assignment/essay, or freaking out about how I should have been working on that assignment/essay instead of that new chapter that I just posted.

Yes, my life really IS just THAT fun.

Hmm, I only really decided to try for one of these blog things because I’ll be going to some university next year (I have two that are my main goals, with one that I’ve already been accepted to), and it’ll be an interesting way to remember everything, and possibly keep my family updated when I’m shoulders deep in various paints and mediums and don’t have clean enough hands to contact thet¬†‘rents. I’m sure Lexy can at least be the go-between, unless she goes all Lex Luthor¬†due to creepy men at work ūüėÄ Love you Lex *mwah*

Hmm, I just had a thought about what if any of my friends found this… I may actually send them a link, but while I’m at the same school?… perhaps not…

Sad thing is that a good number of my buds know what my username is, if only because they’ve seen me signing review responses with ~Doodled93~ , so now I’m kind of contemplating changing the username… great way to start a blog eh?

Sadly, unlike my lucky sisters, my name doesn’t shorten to anything really great (and no, I have a rather unique name, so whatever you’re thinking my name is it’s probably wrong), or anything that can be written with people looking at it, squinting, and trying to sound it out while giving it weird accents (I know this for a FACT from experimentation) and getting a result like a body part of an underwater creature.

When I was in middle school though, the secretary had a bit of a funny sort-of English accent, and it mangled my name just that little bit¬† any time that she called me down to the office (and no, it didn’t hapen THAT often). It sounded a lot, up till 8th grade (when she finally got her mouth around it), like she was calling for Danny _(insert my last name)_, and it confused most of the permanent teachers at the best of times.

At the worst of times, substitute teachers would inform the secretary (over my protests that no, she was talking about ME) that there was no Danny _(insert my last name here)_ in this class.

So perhaps I can go by Danny, or Dani, or some other¬†clever letter change of the name Danny… I don’t know. Thoughts on this?

Oh, also, the link to this will probabl¬†change later, once I figure out something a bit more appropriate than “Drawn in and Quartered” with it’s lousy artistic (and slightly violent) pun.

Ciao~

~Doodled93~