понедельник, 20 октября 2008 г.

christinas restaurant new york




A friend from high school agreed to adopt Clarissa Iapos;m not entirely sure when heapos;ll be by to get her, but now I know for a fact sheapos;ll be in a loving home, and I wonapos;t have to take in a new rat to replace her.

Oliviaapos;s hind paw is actually starting to look better, and her fur is growing back. Her breathing is still labored, but I think there might not be anything I can do about that. At least, not without taking her to a vet. Liv has been back in the cage with Belle and Penny since yesterday, and before that I had her isolated on a bed. I switched Claire with Liv, and Claire is on the bed now. Iapos;m glad my friend is adopting her. He said he could relate to her in the sense that he was a good person (or in her case, rat) but often had difficult socializing.

On to other news, because I promise I didnapos;t take a near twenty day hiatus just because of my rats.

My grandmother died. Iapos;m not entirely broken up about it, as Iapos;ve not seen her for about ten years. To be very honest with you, Iapos;ve no recollection of her appearance. She was my fatherapos;s mother, and at his request my entire immediate family kept away from his parents and siblings. I can understand it to an extent really; his father was abusive and an alcoholic who would wake him and his siblings up at odd hours of the night and have them see what heapos;d done to their mother. His mother was a drunk as well, and a heavy smoker. From the little I know about my fatherapos;s childhood, his mother was generally too intoxicated to care for him or his siblings, because from what Iapos;ve heard he was raised mainly by his older sister and brother. None of my paternal grandparentapos;s children, and I sadly do include my father in that, turned out well. To the best of my knowledge theyapos;re all drunks, smokers, deviants, or a combination of the three. I spoke with my mother a few nights back, and she told me that she, my father, and my younger three siblings all went to the wake, funeral, and a get together at an auntapos;s house. My sister told me that my father read the obituary out loud from the newspaper the day after the funeral, and snorted when he read "a loving mother and grandmother", denouncing it as "a load of bull shit" and storming off. I feel bad really, to be more upset about my petapos;s failing health then the death of my grandmother, but to be totally honest I doubt she even remembered who I was. In fact, I wouldnapos;t be surprised if none of my relatives at the funeral or after party realized I was missing. I lived about five blocks from my paternal grandparents during high school. I never saw them once. In contrast I lived maybe two or three miles from my maternal grandparents (again not a long distance, but further away than my other set) who were also at least a decade older than my fatherapos;s parents, and saw them weekly if not more.

I think thatapos;s it for now, though Iapos;m still not done with my updating.

Yours and such,

Merri

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