…

I am currently sitting on the deck at my grandparents' house. I'll probably be here (though not necessarily on the deck) all night, as we are all here in preparation for my grandma to not be here tomorrow. This is the first time I've experienced the death of someone I've spent a lot of time with over my life...I was sad when my mom's dad died because I wished I could have gotten to know him better, but this is altogether different.

Over the past week or so this whole thing has gotten me to thinking about stuff, especially the question that everyone comes to in situations such as this: what happens to the ME part of me when I die? The brain stops sparking, the heart stops pumping...some people think that that's it but I don't like thinking about it that way, partly because it just seems disconnected. Other people say that we go on to some other life, but I want to hold off on putting my eggs into that basket for now.

I was thinking earlier about the whole "I'll always be in your heart after I die!" thing. At first I had dismissed it as a dumb movie cliche, but I have been considering whether that actually might have merit as a way to think about death. Who is my grandma? To me, all I know about her is from spending time with her. Observations like how she cooks, how she walks, or how she drives, as well as emotional bits that go along with those memories. That is who she is. To someone else, she is a different, though similar, person since none of them could have the same memories I have. Death isn't just a machine that stops working, nor is it a transition to some different life, since that's just us trying to impose our own sense of consciousness on the people we love.

That's also a question I've been thinking about. How do I know that other people aren't just figments of my imagination? When I look into someone's eyes, is that a separate person or just a reflection of myself? If I believe that other people are alive in the same way I am, I'm making a leap of faith in the same way that other people might take certain events as proof of the existence of God. Right now it looks like quantum mechanics could explain goings-on in the brain and the phenomenon of consciousness, and I would take that as pretty good proof that other people are truly other people, since they have their own quantum brain thing going on in their skull. So for now I think it's safe to go along with that assumption.

But putting that aside, when you get down to thinking about who a person <i>is</i>, all we have to fall back on is our own experience. My grandma is the collection of memories that originated from photons hitting my eyes and the various other sense mechanisms, coupled with all sorts of emotions, who has occupied a large portion of the 19 years I've been around to have memories. I am sad because I wish she could have continued being a part of my life for much longer. People personify death and call it things like the grim reaper or cancer, but that's just because they want something to blame for taking their loved ones away and all that accomplishes is anger. I suppose the best way of honoring someone who died is to recognize the impact they had and not let it go to waste.

PS

In order for you all to keep up your tallies, here's the entire list of Alcoholic Beverages Consumed in Canada:

DAY ONE
-2 Rye Whiskey & Ginger Ales
-a big B-52 coffee (Kahlua, vodka, coffee)
-a White Russian (Kahlua, Vodka, and a dash of cream)
-a screwdriver (OJ and vodka)
-a Kahlua and cream
-another screwdriver

DAY TWO
-a B-52 coffee
-three Captain and Colas (one single and one double) (Captain Morgan rum and coke)
-two Malibu Rum and cokes
-A screwdriver
-maybe another Malibu rum and coke (the world may never know)
-Another screwdriver
-...or was that one the one with cranberry?
-Probably another drink somewhere in here
-...or two
(seven hours later)
-the contents of my stomach from the previous day

So yeah. It was an awesome trip. And I didn't even have to spend half of each day recovering from terrible hangovers! I did eventually get a lesson in mediation in the form of yesterday's food though. The trip was not entirely devoid of life lessons. XD

Back in Amerricka!

Yeah. I think that since I'm sure you're all absolutely dying to know what happened the second day we were up there, I will just relate that.

We got up at 10ish after going to sleep at 3am (discovered that consciousness is inversely proportional to the amount of alcohol one has consumed) and had Aebleskiver (do you notice that the r at the end in Danish makes it plural? That way we don't have to say "Aebleskivers" because we're from DENMARK not KENTUCKY. *glares at his mother*) (But I love you anyway)

Speaking of loving my mother, I should relate all of the terrible genetic issues she gave me sometime. But that's for later.

Anyway, we went running around Vancouver while I grew continually more uncomfortable with all of the scary people staring at me and wanting to eat my flesh. It was unnerving. And then SOME PEOPLE were taking pictures of them, so they would just mug us for the camera and then devour our flesh. The world would find the memory card in that camera one day and see our last minutes fighting off a gang of STD vessels with a bag of Wavy Lays chips. It would be on the news. (In America, though, cuz I'm sure this kind of thing happens on Hastings all the time. It'd be old hat for Canadians.) (Not that I think Canada is a bad place. We have Idaho. *ZING.*)

So then we went into an Irish pub, which reminded me so much of actually being in Ireland last spring break it was scary. It even smelled the same which freaked me out a little but sure. I wasn't feeling hungry, so I just ate half of my mom's Irish nachos (I'm sure that name is ironic somehow since some British person somewhere inevitably things of Ireland as the UK's Mexico...) while sipping on another B-52 coffee, a Captain and Coke, and then a Double Captain and Coke since the first one wasn't strong enough (tee hee). Note that we hadn't even gotten out of the afternoon yet.

So then we went home, stopping at the liquor store on the way so my mom could get us a bottle of Skyy vodka (not a small one like we got last time. This one was a liter (litre?) bottle. Heck yes.

Upon making it home, I promptly proceeded to consume two Malibu Rum and Cokes, while Elliott had some evil concoction of Malibu, Rockstar energy drink, and vodka all in one thing. Ugh. (Sorry Elliott but that was just a little too unique for me XD)

Then dinner arrived in the form of the KFC delivery van. (Or, in French Canada, PFK or something. Oh French Canada.) While eating dinner, I had two screwdrivers and then a cranberry screwdriver (I'm sure it has a real name but I can't recall it right now) and then suddenly the vodka was gone.

Elliott and I made it through an entire liter of vodka.

At this point I knew my morning was in jeopardy so I started downing water like...a... *culturally insensitive metaphor here*

In any case, Elliott and I went for a walk again and then we got home and then we were there for a while (I started playing music really loud on my computer (sorry Cindy D:) and then I went to sit on the couch and talked to Demery about consciousness and then suddenly everyone was gone and I was in my sleeping bag. It was fancy.) and then we were asleep! It's really quite miraculous how easy it is to fall asleep when really really drunk.

I woke up to a dilemma. I was ridiculously thirsty, but I had that feeling in my stomach that said if I flexed even one muscle my esophagus would start running in reverse and there would be Much Unpleasantness. So I got up, quickly got water, and then walked to the bathroom before my brain knew what was happening. At this point I somehow decided that that would be a good time to use the bathroom, so while I was so occupied my mouth got all dry and my intestines started to lurch unnaturally and I prayed my mom's Child Vomit senses wouldn't start tingling because the following few moments would see me in a very awkward position.

After that episode was over, I washed out my mouth, drank some more (WATER, not alcohol. I'm not that stupid when I'm drunk. XD) and crawled back into the sleeping bag hoping that I would forget the last several minutes. Half an hour I got up again, puked again, decided that all of my food since I was six had been cleared from my digestive tract, cleaned out the contents of my gall bladder for good measure, then drank some more water and got to bed again before I could get a migraine (does that happen to anyone else? I get bad headaches after puking. As if the puking wasn't bad enough.)

When I woke up later, I did have a headache but I'm sure it wasn't nearly as bad as it would have been if I was not Responsibly Rehydrating for most of the night after inebriating myself. (And the fact that I have a Danish liver. Danes get buried in solid lead coffins so that our livers don't irradiate the countryside.) So I drank more water, had some coffee (ssh coffee isn't also a diuretic you're lying), went driving around to Tim Horton's (I am sorry my Canadian friends, they simply do not stand up to American greasy donuts. American fast food has elevated greasy food to an art form...everything else is just a pale imitation.) and then to Starbucks for more coffee and a bacon english muffin sandwich (like McDonalds except without the self-hatred) which made my stomach incredibly happy after the hell it had been through earlier that morning (the puking, not the Tim Horton's. TH was good, just...not Krispy Kreme.)

On the way over the border, Elliott and I got out and walked around while the car was stuck in line. We considered just running for it, and then tried to decide how long it would take for Border Patrol to shoot us. We stopped considering running.

Then we got over, and stopped at McDonalds for lunch. I didn't order anything because my stomach still felt like it was in a delicate state, but that didn't stop me from eating all of my mom's fries, taking a huge bite out of her barbecue angus burger (that one burger has 750 calories, and the meal is almost 1500. I got the meal version today after work because I was that starving and I have not been tempted to eat or drink anything except water since. Ugh.) and I finished the last three bites of Elliott's because he was done with it.

Then I laid back to listen to my music till we got home, getting ready for the two hour trip, and then I opened my eyes and we were home.

I really, really love how fast time goes while one is sleeping. They should pass out complimentary sleep meds on trains, cross country buses, and planes. It would make being a flight attendant a lot easier.

Ssh I know that's a horrible idea.

So yeah. Went home with the headache still pounding on me, went to sleep, woke up an hour later to find my headache had gone (I LOVE SLEEP SO MUCH IT CURES EVERYTHING) and my siblings had returned to my mom's house. Then I went to my dad's house (not just to escape my siblings, promise) so that I could borrow his car to get to work this week.

Now I am home, considering how long it will take for me to run out of calories from that terrible (but so, so tasty) McDonalds meal I had today (I WAS DESPERATE AND STARVING otherwise I wouldn't subject my arteries to that horrendous beating. Promise.). I could probably live on water for the next week and not be hungry.

But then again I wouldn't get to eat cereal in the morning.

I lurve breakfast.

Bye!

HI THERE part deux

So I forgot to relate one of my adventures.

Just a few fives of minutes ago, Elliott, Teejay, and I went on walkies down to seven eleven (they have those here in canada!). So we were walking and then we were at an intersection so Elliott turned around to hit the walk button but I kept going and ran into him and then I was like "hmm" while I fell onto my butt.

It was exciting.

The two people sitting on the bench near us found this very amusing. I'm sure I would have if it wasn't me being very confused as to why I was suddenly on the ground. But seeing as that WAS me I was...confused. Yeah.

Um...that's my story. We got pizza and a vitamin water and then came back here to Cindy's house which is where I'm writing this from. Yup.

...yup. :D

HI THERE

I'm in Canada right now and I have to say I am pretty darn tipsy right now.

My brain feels funky. Tee hee.

In any case, I suppose I should relate my adventures.

We came up here, and then went to dinner at the White Spot (tee hee) where I had a rye whiskey and ginger ale (TASTY) and a B-52 coffee (RIDICULOUSLY TASTY) I suppose I should list the things I've had so far.

1) Rye & Ginger Ale (x2)
2) B-52 Coffee (Whiskey, Kahlua, and coffee) (x1.5)
3) White Russian (Kahlua + Vodka + cream)

I just realized that I used "right now" at the end of both clauses of the first sentence. Yay grammar.

4) Screwdriver (Vodka + orange juice)
5) Kahlua and cream
6) Another screwdriver

So yeah. I've had a bit of drinkies. I am drinking water though so I won't wake up hating my consciousness. Please.

Um...so yeah. I'm going to stop typing before I use a racial slur or something. That would be unfortunate.

BOOZE!

So yeah. This is just the first day. I still have tomorrow night to have whatever I order at dinner plus a bottle of Malibu Rum that I bought to day. Er, today. Silly spacebar.

Um........tee hee. It's fun. I still haven't puked though, which is lovely.