Stupid quiz
So it’s been ages since the Vix has been around. One would think this means she is going to post about her Christmas with the smallish type person and her family, but nope. Maybe it would mean that she is going to post proper news. But nope, not that either. The short friend’s niece had a fun little quiz, so the Vix swiped it and is going to fill it in with her own answers.
2011 IS ALMOST OVER, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
• Were you involved in something you’ll never forget?
Always.
• Dyed your hair?
Black, and blonde, and pink, and red by mistake once
• Came close to losing your life?
Stupid deer. Yes.
2011: FRIENDS & ENEMIES
• Did you meet any new friends this year?
What good is a new year without new friends?
• Did you hate anyone?
There are a few that I don’t particularly care for, but none that I hate.
• Do you have any regrets when it comes to your friendship?
Nope. I have the best, most wonderful friends in the world.
2011: YOUR BIRTHDAY!
• Did you have cake?
Uh… uh… uh… Yup. I think so. Pretty sure the Mama made me chocolate cake.
• Did you get any presents?
Duh! Chocolate cake!
2011: ALL ABOUT YOU
• Did you change at all?
More than most people will ever know.
• Did you change your style?
No, I like my style fine the way it is. Perfectly unique
• Were you in school?
Yups. Went back in the fall again too. 
• Did anyone close to you give birth?
Don’t think so.
• Did you go on any vacations?
I dids! To Halifax!!
2011: WRAP UP!
• Was 2011 a good year?
Pretty decent, even with its ups and downs.
• Do you think 2012 will top 2011?
Always. For one thing, I’m actually doing something for New Years this year.
IN THE YEAR 2011 I CONFESS THAT I…
• Kissed in the snow?
Uh, no. But the year’s not over yet.. ;P
• Done something you’ve regretted?
Sadly yes.
• Painted a picture?
I think so… kinda.
• Cut in a line of waiting people?
Maybes…
• Told someone you were busy when you weren’t?
Yups.
• Lied about how old you were?
Why would I bother? Too much effort!
IN 2011 I…
• Disappointed someone close?
Just now in fact, so yes.
• Had a secret?
Sure have. Sigh. Hate secrets!
• Pretended to be happy?
Yups. Who wants to spread the noxiousness of depression?
• Slept under the stars?
I will have to do that in 2012… it’s been WAY too long.
• Changed your outlook on life?
Maybe a little. I’m trying to at any rate.
• Learned something new about yourself?
Yes actually. Will I tell you what? Not hardly.
• Found out who your real friends were?
I sure did. I already knew though.
• Met great people?
Sure did. Classmates!
• Stayed up till sunrise?
Of courses.
• Cried over the stupidest thing?
Always. That’s a pretty regular habit with me
• Had friends who were drifting away from you?
I wonder if I’m not that friend… the drifting one.
• Spent most of your money on food?
Of courses. Food is AWESOMES!
• Had a fist fight?
Not ever, let alone last year.
• Gotten sick?
Sighs. Yups.
• Liked more than 5 people at the same time?
I like lots of people, but not in the way you mean I don’t think.
• Song that reminds you of summer 2011?
Live Like You Were Dying, by Tim McGraw
• Lost any friends this year?
Does a cousin count? Sigh. We used to be kinda friends, when we were younger…
• Best summer days spent?
In Halifax with the En and her Boy.
• Are you with someone you think you will still be with in 2012?
Decline to comment.
What makes the Vix nervous
So the Vix is not being a very regular blogger at all lately. This is owing in part to the ever increasing work load at school. Only in part though. As the things that are going on at the moment are not things the Vix cares to discuss in such a public forum, she is having a hard time finding regular things to blog about. Don’t take it personally dear readers, the Vix has not forgotten that you exist.
What makes the Vix nervous? This is one of those suggestion topics that appeared after an entry one day. It peaked the Vix’ interest, and here she is to try to write about it. It will be a challenge, as she is not particularly in the mood to write, but that is beside the point. Honing one’s craft is a necessary part of life; one must practice, practice, practice if they want to become better. Thus, when one claims to be a writer, one must write whether one feels like it or not. This entry may end up progressing past basic nervousness into what the Vix fears, but we will see.
Dogs make the Vix nervous. They are loud, in your face and overly demanding. For all that the Vix loves animals, she does not deal well with any of those attributes. This is why she is a cat person. (Note to self: BUY Cat food! Poor Cat might start getting cranky if that dish doesn’t get more food into it this evening.)
School work makes the Vix nervous. Will she do well? How well can she do? Did she study the right things? What if she put the wrong answer, even though she knew the right answer? That goes on and on the entire time, and she is quite obsessive about getting back her marks from her work that has been passed in.
Power outages also make the Vix nervous. It is a source of fear for her, to lose the electricity and be unable to heat her house, or have a shower, or even get a cold drink from the fridge.
This offers the ability for the Vix to move into what frightens her. Deer frighten the Vix, as do moose and bears. They are not supposed to be on the roads, yet there they are, frequently going kamikaze to try to thin the human population. The very sight of a deer on the road makes the Vix very unhappy, particularly when it is close to her. There have been too many close calls to count with the darned things, and only the Vix quick reflexes saved her during those times. That isn’t counting the two times that the deer actually did go kamikaze all over the Vix’ car. Pinky did not survive the attack; the Brain only got through by the skin of his teeth. Stupid animals. While the Vix is aware that they were here first, GET OFF THE ROAD! Seriously, Cat will sit at the edge of the road and watch the traffic. Once there is nothing coming, she crosses, usually at full speed. Why can’t deer have that same basic sense?!
Another thing that frightens the Vix is that she will die, never having lived. That is why Blockbuster going down has turned into a good thing. It had forced the Vix out of her existence into something more fleshy, with more life involved. Of course, this happened after the Vix got over her depression at losing a job of 6 years. However, the Vix is in school now, to better her skill set so she can do what she wants in life. This summer she visited the En in Halifax, after talking about it for years on end. When the new season starts in the Spring, the Vix intends to go sky diving as well. Life is meant to be lived, and the Vix has started to do things to ensure that she does live.
Cheers!
Life and days from hell
Yesterday started out like any other day. The Vix got up and was to school just nicely on time for her 8:30 class. Somehow she even found the subject interesting in a good way. Generally she doesn’t care much for economics, as it is really depressing, but it was all about exchange rates between countries and she didn’t want to rip her own ears off by the time it was done. It was a nice change.
Now to give a bit of back story from the other week, the Vix is pretty certain that she has neglected to blog about the fact that the Father is now in the nursing home. The self same nursing home that both his mother and mother-in-law died of the self same disease that is killing him. But it is better for him there. It is less institution-ally, and since there are a bunch of people from up home on the same floor, there are people in and out all the time that know him. This gets him more visitors, which will hopefully help him hold onto his sense of self a little longer.
More back story, this time from Wednesday, at lunch time the Mother called the Vix. This isn’t unusual, though she doesn’t call everyday. Here’s a recap of part of the conversation.
“Are you sitting down?”
“No, I had to come into the ahllway to get service for my phone. Should I sit on the floor?”
“No, that’s fine. But do you want the good news or bad news first?”
Let the Vix make the observation that she HATES this question. HATES it with a bloody passion! Who WANTS bad news!? However, “Try me with the bad first, that way maybe the good will make me happy again.”
“Fair enough. The alternator is gone in my car. It’s going to cost about 500$ to fix.”
This is where the Vix leaned against the wall, because she didn’t quite have the strength to stand up right for a moment. “Okay. And?”
“The good news is that they can fix it today.”
“How are you going to PAY for it!?”
“Oh, I have money set aside to pay for the next month of the home. I’ll use that and worry about it later.”
… End recap.
For all that it was the Mother’s car that was broken, she was taking it quite well. It actually cost closer to $300 than $500, which was a small mercy. The Vix on the other hand did not take it so well. Rotten afternoon Wednesday.
So we’re back to yesterday. The Father had an appointment at the hospital, so the Mother took him over to it. When they went to leave, her car wouldn’t start. Again. Consequently, when the Vix was jsut getting out of economics, her phone rang. “Can you come take your father back to the home while the car guy and I try to get this over to his garage?”
What was the Vix to do? The only thing she could do. “Sure Mum, be right over after I email my teacher that I might be late for my next class.” There was a free period, so she didn’t think that she would be late, but better safe than sorry, right?
Once she reached the hospital, the first thing that became obvious was that the Father was having a bad day. He moved slowly, looking old and decrepit, and did not want to leave the Mother. However, between the two of us, he got into the Brain (the Vix’ car). One small bit of pleasure, he was watching the Mother in the rearview mirror as she went back to her car. “Oh, there. —–’s getting in the other car.” At least he still knows the Mother’s name, and proved that yesterday when he called her by name.
The Vix managed to contain her pleasure and just answered, “Yup. She’s gotta take the car to get fixed. I’ll take you back, and she’ll come to see you later.”
“Oh.” It was both sad and sweet how disappointed he looked that the Mother had to go away. “Well, okay.”
“So, how was your day Dad?”
Silence.
“Did you have a good morning?”
“Yup. I sure did.” This is where the Vix almost lost it for the first time. For all that she tries, normally she cannot get him to answer and he did!
The ride proceeded in silence for a little while, then they turned a corner and the sun moved so that it was coming in the side window. The Father knew enough that he needed the visor to block the sun, but couldn’t figure out how to get it around.
“Do you want me to help you with that, Dad?”
“Would you, please?”
The Vix moved the visor for him. “Duck your head back… There. Is that any better?”
“Lots. Thanks.”
This was the longest conversation that the Vix has had with him in ages. It actually made her day. When they reached the home, she undid his seat belt and he opened the door.
“Here we are.” The Vix held out her hand and he took it. “Let’s go in and find your room.” (Thought to self: that I haven’t seen yet. The Vix didn’t bother stating that last part aloud.)
“Okay. You’re the boss!”
This caused a faint blush. “Very well. For now at least, eh?”
Memories washed over the Vix as they stepped into the foyer, but she was still okay. The elevator gave her further memories, but that was fine. Going into the ward was like walking into a brick wall, though she managed to hide this. It was fortunate, as the Mother had called and was waiting on the phone to see how the ride back had gone. It was just a loose cable from the fix the day prior, so it wouldn’t cost more money. Small mercies.
After a nurse showed her his closet, and how they keep his stuff locked so it won’t go missing, the Vix proceeded to pace the halls with him. Reaching the sitting area was painful, but she held it together. After a few loops, seeing names on the doors that she knew, remembering people from when they were middle aged and healthy instead of old and sick, the Vix had taken all she could hide.
“Well, I guess I better get back to school. Let’s take you to the lunch room, so you’ll be already when it’s time to eat in a few minutes.”
At the lunch room he didn’t want to let go of her hand. Fortuately a nurse noticed quickly and said, “Hey —, you can stay with me!” This distracted the Father enough that he let go.
“So I’ll see you later, okay Dad? Can I have a hug before I go back to school?”
“Okay.” Then he turned to the nurse he was “staying” with and got a hug from her too.
The other two nurses who were handy piped in as the Vix was walking away, “Well if you’re giving away free hugs, what about us? Don’t we get some too?”
This allowed the Vix to make her escape. At the door, she could not remember the code to open it. Fortunately there was a different employee coming in, so she let her out the first door and gave her the code. The Vix got to the other door and mixed up the numbers in the code. Fortunately the employee had waited to make sure, and told her again. Once in the elevator, the Vix fell apart. It was a hard thing, but she pulled it together enough to get out the foyer without upsetting the patients there. As she practically ran from the building, it was all she could do to keep from losing her shit right there on the sidewalk.
In the car she cried like a little girl. That was the first time that she had set foot in the patient area of that home since she was 10 years old when her second grandmother died. And to know that it was not going to be the last, not by a long shot, almost destroyed her.
Well, she made it back to class. It was pretty obvious that she was in a rotten mood, as she made a point not to make eye contact with anybody and kept her head down, still fighting tears. All she wanted was to be anywhere else. At the short friends, or with the away friend, or visiting any other friend. Heck, even home and able to curl into a little ball and sob like she wanted would have sufficed.
Around this time the Mother called to check in on her. The Vix almost lost it all again while talking to the Mother, but she managed to hold it in. The economics teacher was walking by while she used the phone, and noticed, appearing to be concerned. But being that she was on the phone, he didn’t stop to ask what was going on. That was a small mercy, as the Vix would have lost it completely and broken down. After getting off the phone with the Mother, while she headed back to the classroom, one of her classmates noticed.
“Are you okay??”
The Vix couldn’t speak and just shook her head no.
“What’s wrong? Do you want to..”
“I can’t.” That was all the Vix could say and she fled into the classroom before she lost it. Sitting at her laptop, she managed to pull it back together enough to function, though she was cranky and short tempered for the rest of the day.
Before she left, she gave a very brief explanation to the person who had asked her if she was okay, thanking her for the concern.
Day from hell.
Are there any other languages you wish you could speak?
Well, being that the Vix has made you wait over a week for this post, she is not going to post about anything important. Partially because she doesn’t want to, and partially because she just doesn’t want to. You can take it or leave it, but you’re not getting it out of her this evening. Deal with it.
Instead, you will learn that the Vix would like to be able to speak Elvish most of all. Not that it has any practical use in life, but it would be fun to know. Also, she would enjoy being able to speak Gaelic, take your pick between Scottish and Irish, she wants to learn them both. These are followed by Hebrew and Yiddish. Oi vey! Le français est une langue qu’elle peut déjà parler, mais elle lit beaucoup mieux. (For those of you who don’t read French, translate that last sentence ici: http://translate.reference.com/translate)
And with that basic and very incomplete overview of the languages the Vix would like to be able to speak and read fluently, she signs out.
Cheers. And God bless!
Breaking Dawn – And trying to break the Vix
Last night was the second showing of Breaking Dawn, the 1st part of the final two movies that will complete the Twilight Saga’s transition to film. While this is not nearly as exciting an idea as the end of the Harry Potter series, the Vix was still at the theatre at 3:15, waiting to get in to see it, with her best friend. They were joined shortly there after by the short one’s niece.
After they had been waiting around an hour, a loud group of women showed up, ranging anywhere in age from 25 to 40+. If looks could kill, the Vix would have dropped dead on the spot, though she hardly cared about this. She had shown up early for a reason, and no group of strangers was going to scare her away from her spot in line. The short one has earned that nickname for a reason, and they want/needed a particular seat as a result. Still, there was an hour and a half before the doors would open, so to try and keep things friendly, the Vix smiled and said, “Oh, did you expect to be first in line?” Her tone of voice was open and easygoing; there was nothing snide about it as she was just trying to make friendly conversation.
The ringleader got all huffy and practically yelled, “No! What would it matter anyway? It’s no difference to me!” Emphasizing her words with the closest thing to an evil look that the Vix has ever seen, she finished with, “Besides, WE saw it last night, so whatever.” With that she turned to her friends and started heckling the Vix in gutter French, being as loud and ignorant as she could be. Meanwhile, the Vix was sitting quietly by the door, feeling vaguely shell shocked, as she has never met such rude people before. The worst/best part of the French? The Vix understood every filthy word that came out of her mouth, and could have answered back with better grammar and pronunciation than they themselves were using. However, a twilight movie did not seem like a suitable reason to get into her first fight ever, so the Vix pretended not to understand, all the while laughing internally at the ignorant daughters of idiots.
The closer the time of opening the doors got, the more people that showed up. Not all of them were there for Breaking Dawn, but many of them were. And the ones who were showing up later kept trying to butt ahead of the ones who had been there longer. The entry way was getting more and more crowded, until the Vix was sure that they were all going to suffocate from the general lack of oxygen. Niece of the short friend was trying not to have a claustrophobic attack, the short friend was trying to distract her and the Vix was struggling not to start hyperventilating as a result of a) her distaste for crowds of people and b) the general lack of oxygen. The one who had been so rude to the Vix, along with one of her cronies, was pressing closer and closer to the Vix, almost as if they were trying to literally shove the Vix THROUGH the glass doors. It would have been possible too, since both of them were taller and one of them had a good 50 pounds on the Vix.
Finally 5:30 came. The employee unlocked one door, and there was instant jostling. Once she unlocked the second door, the two crazies pulled the doors open, and forcibly shoved the Vix through them, separating her from the short one and niece. The Vix headed for the ticket booth, literally forced to run, because the heavier woman was pushing her with all her might. While the Vix was not trampled, it was a pretty damn near thing until the two crazy idiots finally got around her and gave the guy taking the tickets their tickets. Then they flat out RAN into the theatre to get first crack at the seats.
Fortunately, they did not go for the seats that are the reason the Vix always shows up early. After having endured one of the longest hour and a half of her life, if they had taken the Vix’ seat, that might actually HAVE been cause for the first fight in her life. Those seats behind the wheelchair rail were the entire reason the Vix was so early. If she had not gotten them, when she showed up FIRST, she would likely have had a screaming, get thrown from the theatre meltdown. But she got them, so it was okay.
Meanwhile. while the Vix was running for her LIFE, the short friend and niece had been literally shoved behind the door, so that they were coming very close to be trapped and squashed by it. Given that one of them if 4 foot 7 and maybe 85 pounds soaking wet, and the other is at best 5 foot 3 and maybe 100 pounds soaking wet, that heavy glass door would have done them some serious damage. Fortunately the short one has an exorbitant amount of attitude, and enough common sense to carry a giant purse. Seriously, it’s a messenger bag, probably two feet wide, a foot and a half high and a foot thick when it’s full. Thrusting this into the crowd slowed them just enough that she could shove her arm in front of them and block the door way. While she did this, she grabbed the niece and bodily threw her through the doorway, to ensure that she didn’t get trapped behind the door in that crowd. Considering that the niece is half a foot taller than her and probably 10 to 20 pounds heavier than she is, the Vix is quite proud of her for that display of strength.
So nobody was hurt, but the Vix was almost trampled by some psychotic French bitch that had ALREADY watched the stupid movie! Harry Potter fans are SO much better than Twilight fans that it isn’t even funny. They don’t leave their coffee cups laying all over the place where they were waiting. They don’t try to trample the people who had the good fortune to be first in line. They aren’t psychotic middle aged retards who never grew up! If that had been the only exposure that the Vix had to people of French descent, she would have a very poor opinion of the culture in general. Thank goodness that she has had much more exposure than that, and she knows that it was not their cultural upbringing that caused them to be such ignorant idiots. The Vix finds herself grateful to the many French people that are simply wonderful people, and prove regularly that such ignorance is not completely typical to their culture. What did cause the ignorance last night is beyond the Vix, but there will always be ignorant people in every culture and society. It’s a way of life for them, and no amount of reason will ever help them.
When the short one called the theatre today to complain about the general lack of crowd control, they blew her off with some random BS about how their employees have better things to do than worry about how the fans behave. But the girl who unlocked the doors almost got a glass and metal door square to the face, much the same as the Vix almost got ran down. The theatre is just VERY lucky that nobody was hurt. If there had been so much as a bruise on the Vix, or either of her friends, they would be dealing with very irate customers. While the Vix has a bark much bigger than her bite, if you hurt her peeps, you will get to see angry Vix. The Vix gets irritated pretty easily, but generally, she does not get angry very often. Last night, by the time she was home, she could have cheerfully punched through a wall, she was that angry. Instead she took something to help her sleep and went to bed fuming. As such, she woke up equally miserable and was whiny as blazes all day.
However, Breaking Dawn was epic. Next year, for the final part of the series, the Vix is going to the midnight show, come hell or missing a test high water. Never again will she risk her life to see a film! At least with the midnight show the doors open at 5:30 and she can just go and wait in line then. It is true that she will still show up at 2 or 3 in the afternoon, but at least the crazies will be less stampedey, since getting inside still means another 6 hours of waiting.
I miss Harry. Those were the days. The safe, not nearly trampled to see jail bait half naked, days.
Cheers! And God bless you all, even the psychotic fan girls who NEED to grow up. Sadly, that busload of kids who showed up for the 3D animated movie were better behaved than you were! Seriously, get a life and move on. R Patz will never look sideways at you, and with that behaviour, I see why.
Exercise
Yes, this is a filthy word and the Vix should have her mouth washed out with soap for using it in reference to herself. But the Vix is tired of being short and overweight. Since she can do nothing about the short, she is going to work on the overweight. After all, it’s not like she’ excessively fat. Just plump enough that it irritates her. Not to mention that if she goes by the target weight for her height, she broke the scales 15 years ago. But obesity is an epidemic in North America, and the province that the Vix lives in is listed as the third fattest in the country.
http://stevenashsportsclubpersonaltrainers.com/2010/09/23/951/
http://www.bce.ca/en/news/releases/bg/2001/07/21/6223.html
Being that the no wheat diet has driven her average weight down 5 pounds, she is hoping that throwing some exercise into the mix will help drive it down more. But it is not her weight that she is really concerned with. It’s the excess fat, which is NOT healthy. Not to mention that she hasn’t felt comfortable in a swimsuit since she was a teenager. Seriously, that’s WAY too long. So her goal is to be able to wear a swimsuit (one piece. The Vix will resist ranting about modesty here, but suffice it to say that she doesn’t care for bikinis very much) and not feel uncomfortable.
As for the no wheat thing, the Vix cheats on occasion, so it’s not working nearly as well as it should be. The acne is mostly gone now, which is a plus, but not entirely, which is irritating. However, the cheating has been regular enough that it stands to reason it is not helping very much. But there are not nearly as many of the “blind” ones, which is nice. You know, those deep seated ones that are too deep to do anything with, and when they get out a little, make a big mess and take forever to heal up. It probably helps a little that the Vix has FINALLY started to use moisturizer. Only took her 28 years to bother. And it’s specially medicated to help with such things. It works too well on healthy skin and only a teeny little bit on the unhappy parts. But still, perhaps the combination is doing the trick? One can only hope.
No wheat improvement
There is a gym that comes free of charge to students at the college. As such, the Vix spent just under 10 minutes on the elliptical machine today. That was all she could do, the horrid thing. Sure was fun though. Then a few hours later she spent 10 minutes on the treadmill and 10 on the stationary bike. The intention had been to spend the entire time on the treadmill, as the Vix loves to run. But her heart rate was getting high enough that she was worried it might be considering exploding, so she switched to something that didn’t require as much effort. It worked out well, and her heart rate stopped spiralling up and out of control.
Now it’s to hold herself to this idea. But the Vix really wants a new wardrobe. Not becuase she needs new clothes; not even because she particularly likes to shop. In fact, she’s generally more of a “man shopper”. That means she goes in, gets what she wants and leaves. This is not always true, case in point book stores, but it is usually. However, how cool would it be to have to get a new wardrobe because the old one makes her look like she’s wearing clown clothes??
Cheers! And God Bless!
Remembrance Day
When the Vix went to school, we were not required to memorize much, aside from the multiplication tables. This is a sad lack, and while the Vix has a ton of hymns,various songs and countless books stored in her head, there is a big lack of classic poetry. There was no need to have the ability to quote “Oh Captain, my Captain” from memory, nor “In Flanders Fields”. Being that the Vix values freedom, and honours those who sacrificed themselves to make sure that she could grow up to become the independent thinker that she is, one day in her late teen years, she set about rectifying this oversight.
“Oh Captain, my Captain” has long since faded from her memory, much to her dismay. It is familiar to her when she reads it, and she still knows a line or two throughout it. But it has gone the way of many of her other efforts throughout life. But “In Flanders Fields” has stuck with her throughout the years for several reasons. It is about much more recent history than the other; annually it comes back to the main stream, making it hard to forget. For another, some of the words caught her attention, and made her wonder about the author.
What kind of man would still hear the larks in a battlefield? Surrounded by death, and fighting, by decay, and agony, how could he have enough hope that he was able to listen for the singing for birds over the sound of gunfire and bombs? This imagery, the picture of a person with enough hope to take a few stolen minutes to scribble down his thoughts on such matters, at such a time as that, literally takes the Vix’ breath away.
The distressing part of all of this? Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae did not survive that war, even with all of his hope. His health was too frail to hold out against the ruggers he was forced to endure during that last war. But his memory lives on, and the hope that allowed him to memorialize his friends and fellow war victims as he did.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead: Short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved: and now we lie
In Flanders fields!
Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you, from failing hands, we throw
The torch: be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields
On that note, take a moment. Allow yourself to be immersed in the imagery. Young men, some of whom were barely old enough to be even called men, lived, loved and laughed. Then a threat to our freedom came, trying to steal that precious commodity from us. They flooded the battlefield, young, willing and eager to make name for themselves. They were innocent, unaware of the fact that many of them would never see their homes again. Would this have stopped them? When the evils in the world were trying to destroy everything that we hold dear? Perhaps it would have stayed a few, held them back out of an honest and understandable desire to live. But still they would have crowded the fields of battle, from all walks of life, just to make sure that home remained a safe place. Just so that home would not be sullied by the death that was plaguing other parts of the globe.
The Vix can remember when she was 19. Life was sweet, and she had her first job, and went on a Missions Trip to try to change the world for the better. It was a glorious time of emotions that ran high and strong through her. Innocence was only outweighed by her desire to take the cup of life and drink long and deep. Not even 10 years have passed since that time, but more countless innocents have sacrificed themselves to war, when all war was supposed to have been ended in 1918.
To those who honestly believed in the cause they fought for, I am sorry for our inability to have honoured your sacrifice. I honour your commitment to life, love and laughter. You did not die in vain, and one day, peace will reign eternal. In the meantime, there are those of us who look to you as a standard of hope, and pray daily for the fulfillment of that hope. That our children can grow in peace, and without the evils of war lurking over their shoulders. As you hoped, so do I. For those of you who found eternal life, one day I will say thank you to your face. For the rest, I am truly sorry.
Who knows the Vix better than anyone else?
Every time that the the Vix posts an entry, there are title suggestions on the page following. This is the first time that the Vix has decided to use one of them, because this one peaked her interest. It is a hard question to answer. Friendwise either the Away Friend or the Short One would know the Vix best. People-wise, it would probably have to be the Mother, being that the Vix has spent the last 28 and a half years living with her.
However, none of these people truly know the Vix, with perhaps the exception of the Mother. But even the Mother doesn’t know everything. The only person who could truly know the Vix best of anybody alive would have to be the Creator. God is the only one who knows EVERYTHING about the Vix; being that He made her, He even knows more about her than she herself does. That depth of caring absolutely astounds the Vix. Why somebody who is capable of making the Universe and everything in it would be interested in the Vix is beyond her understanding. But scripture tells the Vix that He is, so while she doesn’t understand, she is grateful.
As an aid to you, dear blog readers, the Vix will help you to learn a little more about her. That is actually the point of this blog, this glimpse into the Vix’ secret self. Every person has a secret self, and while the Vix will never peel back all of her layers for you to see it all, this will be an attempt to round out the general picture you already have of her.
The Vix is 10,393 days old, including leap years and today. Her birth was on a Wednesday evening nearly 3 decades ago, and to the best of her knowledge, was relatively uneventful. In the following few weeks, the Mother almost died as a result of the birth, but pulled through. It is questionable if it was because she was not willing to go yet, or because God knew that her family needed her too badly to let her go. Either way, it worked out well, and the Vix still has her.
The Vix is a HUGE Mama’s girl. There is no other human that matters as much to the Vix, though there are plenty of other humans who the Vix cares a great deal for. The Mother knows about almost everything in the Vix’ life, is told almost every secret and has seen almost every mood imaginable. Nearly every time that the Vix speaks with Jesus, she mentions her mother to Him. When the Vix’ habit of worrying about things beyodn her control flares up, one of the chief concerns for her is that her mother is ever aging. The mother is over 22,000 days old, more than double how old the Vix is. Mortality is starting to catch up with others of her generation on a regular basis, and that scares the Vix almost senseless. That is why she mentions her mother to Jesus in prayer so much. Both to help the Vix get a grip on the needless fear and to ask Him, over and over and over again, to keep the Mother save for the Vix. After all, we are commanded to “Never stop praying” (1 Thessalonians 5:17), so the Vix does her best to do so.
The Vix tries her best to be different from the general population, though in many ways, she is the same as they are. However, this is why she dresses to please herself, rather than to look cool. Her sense of style is such that while she knows it is not considered normal to wear a floor length skirt this is dark green & patterned with Trolls dressed as Santa in the dead of summer, if the mood strikes, she does. However, despite that she insists that it does not matter to her what people think, it actually does. Judgement sincerely bothers the Vix; it greatly irritates her when people make assumptions about her based on just her appearance. As such, in an attempt to avoid hypocrisy, the Vix tries her hardest not to do that to other people. After all, how can she rant about something, then go out and do the same thing, without being something that she detests with a passion.
Hypocrisy is one of her pet peeves, needless to say. There are others, but they are not really very numerous. The biggest of all of them is bad drivers. If the speed limit is 80 kilometres an hour, it is just as illegal to go 10 kilometres under the limit as it is to go 10 kilometres over the limit. If you can’t get the limit, GET OUT OF THE WAY! Certainly there are numerous reasons for a person to not be driving the speed limit; many of these reasons are actually valid ones as well. But if the Vix cannot drive at the limit, she has the common courtesy to pull over enough that the people behind her need not be forced to drive slow because she is. If more people would drive courteously, the road would be a safer place on which to drive.
Procrastination is an Art form; one that the Vix is working at perfecting. Case in point this entry: it was started on Sunday. When is it being posted? Tuesday. If there are further questions you are curious about, feel free to leave a comment and the Vix will do her best to answer them. Cheers! And God Bless!
Dizziness
Friday was a relatively good day. The Vix got her mark back for her writing test, and it was pretty decent. In fact, when she went to the teacher to find out where she had went wrong, the teacher found a few marks that she had missed; this raised the overall mark one percent, making the Vix extremely happy. Also, it was Friday, meaning the end of the school week. Woot woot! Sure, it meant for a weekend of work and study, but the Vix likes her job, so that’s fine too.
However, during the lunch hour on Friday, clumsy Vix made a reappearance. As she went down the hallway, she decided that she wanted to airplane. Yes, when she is alone, she gets that much weirder than normal. For those who do not recognize the context of the term “airplane” here, it means to hold one’s arms out from the body and run along, pretending one is an airplane. Being that the Vix airplanes on a relatively regular basis, she did not think anything would come of it.
However, when she went to turn into the room she was headed for, she lowered her arms at the same time, since it is impossible for the ordinary grown woman to airplane through an ordinary doorway. As she turned, she first lost her footing, and then her balance, and went over like a ton of bricks. There was a split second choice between smacking her head against the metal door frame, or flinging up her arm and getting that instead. Needless to say, she flung up her arm, protecting her head by mere instinct.
Considering the size of the bruise on the arm now, it’s a good thing instinct kicked in. There would have likely been a concussion if she’d hit her head on that metal door frame. Random added perk, she was wearing her good running sneakers and as such, her ankle that she twisted did not get damaged. Woot woot! Small mercies, since the bruise on her arm is three to four times the size of a twoonie. That’s enough battle scars for the Vix for one day.
Fortunately, the Vix has an appointment with her doctor on Tuesday, to discuss blood work that was taken on the 21st. So hopefully he’ll have worked out why her balance is so terrible.
So, since this entry was started on… Saturday… The queen of procrastination will save her HAPPY HALLOWEEN entry for tomorrow… or rather, for next time. 
Cheers! And God bless.
A Week
The Vix has contemplated blogging several times in the past week. But it has been a crazy week, and as such, she did not get around to it. The smallish type person, and her mother, arrived on Friday past, and stayed until early Thursday morning. It is nothing personal, dear blog readers, but the smallish type person comes first. In fact, this is to the point that the Vix had to go for physiotherapy on her elbow yesterday, as she overused it with her favourite little girl. Even after several hours after physio was over, her wrist was still aching off and on, the way it does when her tennis elbow is acting up. Yes, the Vix is aware that she is weird, and that tennis elbow should bother the elbow more than it bothers the wrist. Meh. That’s the Vix for you, so whatever.
It was a good visit with the smallish-type person. The Vix missed her very much and had fun playing with her some, and watching movies with her some, and basically just loving to be with her. The best Christmas present that she could receive is also promised. The sister, her husband and the smallish type person are coming home for over Christmas. This is the first time that they have been home Christmas Day and the Vix is VERY pleased. The logic is pretty simple: the Father has Alzheimer’s, as has already been established, and the sister wants her daughter to have at least one Christmas with Grampie. The logic distresses the Vix, mainly because it is such a valid concern. In fact, the logic makes the Vix want to cry.
Because when it comes down to it, the Vix wants her father back, the way he is supposed to be. Not with holes in his memory and no talking unless you draw him out. Sure, the Vix can remember when it was all you could do to get him to be quiet, but memory is not the same thing. All she wants is for him to be able to spend time with her, hold her, and reassure her that everything is going to work out for good. It’s not that she isn’t already confident of that fact; all things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to his purpose. But still, the reassurance would be very nice.
Anyhow, the Vix has to get going again. There are THREE tests next week that she needs to prepare for. Math is monday morning, and she is unconcerned about this one. The accounting assignment is due Tuesday and the test is Wednesday, and she is unconcerned about that one. Marketting is on Thursday though, and that one terrifies her, as well it should. Stupid definitions, needing to be memorzied. Sigh.
Anyhow, cheers and God bless!
