Wow, it's been a really long time hasn't it? A lot has happened, hence my disappearance. The most impactful had to be the loss of my dear Fry, named after Stephen Fry, or Fry from Futurama, whichever you prefer. Fry is what I call my darling computer, and until about a month ago it has served as quite the loyal companion.
However it is getting fixed, and in the mean time I have acquired a new laptop, or notebook as they call them, and am now in the process of choosing a name for it.
Leave me comments with name suggestions, and reasons, if you want. If not, I'll let you know what I chose next time.
Beyond that, my auntie died a while ago, a while being a very short while. I wasn't very close to her, especially after I moved out of Finland and only see her about once or twice a year, both times within the same month.
But I remember being at my gran's house in the summer when I was an itty bitty child, not much taller than a bulldog but somehow much louder, my aunt would park herself and her caravan (gypsy heritage, I must point out) for the whole summer. She came to fish, and I stayed with her whenever I could because I loved the feeling of the rocking boat and the excitement when you felt that line tense. Sometime your whole body filled with euphoria when you drew that heavy lump of edible goodness out of the water, and then that moment of fear and sadness when you watch your aunt smash it's head onto the side of the boat four or five times, until the brains begin spilling and the eyes are hanging out, and you can be sure it's dead.
This past summer I'd noticed she'd gotten much older, much faster than I thought. Since she's a smoker, I figured it's that that's aging her.
And I suppose it was.
Everyone in my family dies of cancer. Someday it'll be my turn to choose a body part where it can attack.
The good thing about this, because yes- I hate to be an optimistic sod but - there is a good side, is that it's made me realise how easy it is to just disappear and die off. I don't want to disappear, and I don't want to waste a single fucking day.
That's why I won't be sad for my aunt, because she wasn't sad for those fish, and because she doesn't care I'm not sad because she's dead. Besides, she wouldn't have wanted me to be sad. So I spent a day being sad, frustrated, and got mad at people I love, until I ate some fish and remembered, and I didn't care any more.
The funeral's tomorrow, and I'm going to celebrate.
Good day, ladies and gentlemen, good day.