Robot From The Future! » sad

Why I don’t need to see Avatar

Stella — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 01:09:14 +0000

James Cameron, you have joined George Lucas on the Dark Side. You’re dead to me now.

Oh, the tears that I will weep . . .

Stella — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 21:42:29 +0000

. . . for the Halo movie that will never be. This ODST trailer is heartbreakingly awesome.

Sigh.

Car FAIL

Stella — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 18:08:54 +0000

I hate it when reality sets in.

I ordered my Camaro, oh, idunno . . . months ago. It was supposed to be here in April. But it wasn’t. Then it was supposed to be here in May. And then it wasn’t. It was supposed to be here in June, July, August. But it isn’t. The dealer kept putting me off and putting me off. Now it’s supposed to be here in September.

Right.

In the meantime, I have some unavoidable car repairs, vehicle registration, and an insurance policy to pay for. The window of perfect opportunity has passed, and it’s no longer worth it to get the Camaro just now. I’m gonna have to wait for the spring to make these costs worth it, since I definitely won’t recoup them in a sale.

I had three special deliveries that were supposed to arrive this summer, but I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with one out of three. I’m trying not to be too whiny about that, because I really can’t complain about my life. I have it pretty good. But leave it to me to always want just a bit more. So yeah. There goes the dream summer with my dream car, cruising around with special people inside it.

In the meantime, I’ll be over here appreciating what I do have, but not giving up hope for the things I want.

I am officially going mad.

Stella — Wed, 20 May 2009 15:24:30 +0000

Every car I see is a Camaro.

Every single one.

I even saw a ’76 go by yesterday and I sighed longingly. Over a piece of crap ’76.

I need my car.

You complete me, baby. You complete me.

Burying Santa Claus

Stella — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 20:30:15 +0000

It was him, but he wasn’t there. It was like a waxwork, hollow and glassy. I thought that if anything touched it it would crumble away and there would be nothing inside. I could only look for a second, and only because I had to see it for myself. I would never have believed it otherwise. It was a strange mockery of the man, but not anything really like him. I had to walk out, and was glad my little sister only came to the funeral and not the viewing.

There isn’t a Santa Claus any more, Virginia.

We shuffled in, we sniffled during the hymns, and we laughed and cried — mostly cried — while he was eulogized. But it seemed such an empty spectacle. Words are insufficient for love, which is why we kiss or embrace to show it. But when you can’t reach out and touch that person any more, there isn’t anything you can say that can make up for the loss. Collective grief helps some, but it can also be overwhelming.

As I looked out at the hundreds and hundreds of people jamming pews that are rarely half-full on Sundays, I could see how much this man meant. He could get more people into a church than God — that has to be something. But unfortunately as with God, our prayers and words receive no audible answer. The uncertainty gnaws at us, so we band together and hope that someone out there is listening.

Funerals really are for the living and not the dead.