Approachable

Another meal, another round of strange conversations.  At lunch, Predad sat down with me.  Later, when Tamar came and Predad was gone, I complained about Predad coming around, saying I don't understand why she wants to be around me when I am not friendly towards her at all.  (I mostly didn't talk as she sat there.  I would rather eat alone, in silence, then listen to her mostly incoherent babbling.)  "Well isn't this a common problem for you?" Tamar asked. 
"What's a common problem?"
"Well, you know, since you're easily approachable." 
What?  I don't agree at all.  I don't her I feel like I have the exact opposite problem.  People don't want to come anywhere near me.  I complained about an episode from several years ago where someone said some nasty things about me, that implied, among other things, that he would rather not go anywhere near me. 
"He was just being a stupid boy!" she answered.  "He just wanted your attention, so he said those things."
Well, he most certainly got attention from me.  The negative kind of course, and then I began to avoid him because I was all "Uh-huh.  This guy is awful and mean and really?  I can't believe he said those things with absolutely no evidence." 
Tamar maintains that he wanted my attention.  I'm skeptical.  He had plenty of opportunity and could have used all sorts of false reasons to come and talk to me and we had mutual friends and he never used any of it.
The conversation ended with Tamar saying that "I don't know how men think!"
"I can tell you right now," Jenny chimed in.  "They don't think." 
Oh well good.  Another person giving guys a slide on the whole being brainless thing. 
I still disagree with Tamar about being approachable.  It's not that I generally try to turn people off, though there are time I actively try, it's that I'm not doing anything nice.  Really. 
I would ask other people what they think but I can kind of guess.  Josie would agree, though she would frame it differently than Tamar did.  Ashley would probably say something nasty about it.  Dan would say something about me being an enigma, which is a whole other thing I am frustrated with right there. 

Christmas Eve

I did go out with my friends last night, but I had trouble sleeping on Christmas Eve's Eve.  I get up at eight every day, normally, and I think my brain is still trying to get me up at that time.  In addition to that, the neighbor's got this really awful dog.  My parents refer to these dogs as yippers, and I probably don't have to tell you what it is about this dog that was waking me up twice in the early morning. 
I shouldn't make excuses as to why I was so grumpy.  I was trying really hard not to be, but I get depressed at Christmas.  Without fail.  I can't remember a Christmas after my middle childhood that didn't get me sad somehow. 
I tried to get some things done, and then my Mom and sister wanted to go to the hospital to visit my Grandma.  I wanted to go too, so I came along. 
My Mom and sister decided they needed to go to a craft store, so I got dragged along.  While we were in the parking lot, I saw someone I went to school with years ago.  I don't think he saw me, thankfully.  I don't know what he's doing, and I luckily am not half the loser some of our fellow students have become, but I hate to rely on gloating.  Even if we could argue I deserve it. 
My Mom and sister spent a long time looking at frames and posters.  I think they originally went in just to exchange something and turned into a redecorating of the bathroom.  This happens a lot when they shop and I've learned over the year to keep myself entertained.  This time I wandered around a bit, focusing on candles.  Candles are one of those things I would use if someone else bought them for me.  I am loathe to spend the money myself.  I am even more loathe to spend my time sticking my nose in a bunch of dusty jars filled with colorful wax. 
I realized as they were checking out that it was 1:30 in the afternoon and I still hadn't had anything to eat.  I tried to remember my last meal.  Madison and I had split a basket of sweet potato fries at the bar last night.  That was it.  That was my last "meal."  I eyed the rootbeer-flavored candies.  They were appealing. 
We finally got to the hospital.  My Grandma was in the room, trying to sleep.  She was awake, but she refused to open her eyes, a normal tactic she likes to use.  We tried to get her to at least talk to us.
A few weeks ago, Faith had given me one of those headbands with reindeer ears on it.  I wore it at a Christmas party, and now I put it on in the hospital.  Even though my mood was souring, I was trying not to get upset. 
When my Grandma finally opened her eyes for more than a minute, she said "What the hell is that on your head?"
That's what she's like.  On a good day. 
She then decided she didn't want to open her eyes.  Then she was moaning for us to give her water to drink.  She's recently taken to ordering us to give her water, even though she can get it herself.  She also started ordering me around to wipe her face.  We're trying to get her out of the hospital and she won't do anything to help herself, since they try to determine if she can take of herself to place her in the appropriate kind of home. 
I went to the cafeteria to try to find something to eat.  I wandered around and saw nothing I wanted.  I have had so much sugar lately just the thought made me sick. 
I went back to my Grandma's room.  They were trying again to wake her.  She wasn't cooperating.  I suggested maybe splashing a little water in her face, which my Mom did.  My sister and I tickled her toes.  This mostly didn't work. 
She has a tv in her room, and I started looking around.  I found Criminal Minds, and this cheered me up disproportionately.  I squealed.  The sound wasn't that loud, but it scared my Grandma enough that she kept her eyes open for five minutes. 

I have recently taking to calling my love, Matthew Gray Gubler, the hottness.  Obviously if you've seen him, you don't need me to explain why I call him this.  My parents have started teasing me, because they think it's ridiculous. 
I tried to watch my show.  Nate texted me, saying Merry Christmas.  I was a little surprised, since Nate is Jewish, but I considered that maybe his family did secular Christmas celebrations.  We chatted a little via text messaging.  He said that his family was having tacos for dinner, which made me laugh and made me realize they really weren't doing anything special.  (Which is fine, because really, they don't have to.) 
Because Nate is part of a particular group of friends, I started thinking about those people.  I really wished I was celebrating Christmas with one (or more) of them instead of being stuck in this hospital, trying to bring Christmas cheer to my Grandma who not only was rudely ignoring us but not even trying to take care of herself enough to get out of the hospital. 
I texted Paul.  I almost called Paul to tell him that I missed him and explain this recent episode of my life.  He puts up with a lot from me. 
But I hesitated to call.  Paul's got family too, probably lucky enough to have the unselfish kind, and interrupting their Christmas celebrations is unfair.  I texted him "Merry Christmas."  Maybe if I was lucky he'd call me?  If not it meant he was probably busy. 
In the meantime, my family was in and out of the room, taking care of things for my Grandma.  I was left in there to watch her.  A nurse came in and started measuring her vitals.  My Grandma opened her eyes long enough to insult the woman's hair, which was tied back in a ponytail with a headband.  It looked absolutely fine, but my Grandma does this all the time, and this is part of the reason we have a hard time getting her help: no one wants to do something extra for an old woman who showers abuse on people.  I berated her for saying that. 
Then someone else came in to change her diaper and she peed all over the bed while all the sheets were gone. 

Happy Gobble Gobble

I almost said something to Elena about Thanksgiving having a traditional nap as well as a meal.  It seems that she never studies except when I need to do something in the room. 
So I attempted to sleep and faded in and out, but didn't really sleep the way I wanted to.  Even though I was still tired, I gave up. 
And then of course, twenty minutes after I got up, she left.  I feel very much like I can't win. 
Some of my friends invited me to come round and watch the Thanksgiving episode of Friends, which I was actually excited for.  I haven't watched those episodes since last year, and I always enjoy them.
Right before I got there I passed the community table, which is basically where people drop off stuff they don't want anymore.  I got this adorable SpongeBob humidifier.  I don't really need a humidifier, but I just sort of like having this bright sunshine in my room.  He's sitting on the window sill near my bed and it really makes me smile.  I'm thinking if I get crafty with it, I can maybe repurpose to be a lamp.  When Elizabeth and Jenny saw it, they thought it was really cute.  An old lady saw me with it and gushed over it, which surprised me, because I've seen her be really nasty at other people.  I don't think she was familiar with SpongeBob, because she didn't recognize him. 
When I got there they were watching Varsity Blues, which is such a sexist, nasty movie.  Lola really likes the film, though I haven't the faintest idea why, considering how it portrays women and generally stupid it is.  I mostly texted people instead.
We watched the first three Thanksgiving episodes of Friends.  I had a good laugh.
My parents called, and I spoke to them on the phone briefly.  I was actually a little annoyed, since I got off the phone right as third episode was ending and everyone else wanted to go home.  So then it was over. 
I watched a bit of tv.  Paul texted me that he was grateful that I listen to him when he needed to talk to someone.  Earlier in the day I had texted him that I was thankful he put up with me.  I had been thinking about Paul the day before, during a conversation about Thanksgiving and being grateful for things.  The thing I find I am most consistently grateful for are me friends.  And in the last year or so, Paul and I have become really close.  So I found myself thinking about how particularly grateful I am for him, even when I get on his nerves sometimes. 
Later on, Jimmy and I talked, and it was so nice to catch up with him.  I told him about a writing project which I've been considering.  Jimmy told me about how his family has a tradition of "complaining" that a particular dessert needs "more practice."  It sounds like a fun little ritual.  We had a lovely little chat about our lives and plans for the future.  Jimmy is thinking of applying to the same graduate schools I am, which means maybe we'll end up at the same place.  A girl can dream, right?
It might also be good because then they'll be someone around I can trust.  And maybe it'll encourage Paul to come live there, and maybe together?  (Paul and I've been chatting about being roommates for over a year now.  I suspect we have to do it now.)
So it's been a really quiet, though very pleasant, sort of holiday.