For Uncle Ken. Not just an uncle, but a great one. My venerated grandma's brother. It's odd how most of my generation aren't that close to even their uncles, but it seems that I was so very, extremely close with everyone on my mom's side. Employers don't understand exactly what it means for me to need to go to my great uncle's funeral, thinking he would have been just another distant relative, but he wasn't. He was a good man, with a handlebar moustache, pop-eye arms, a log cabin on a beautiful piece of property, two dogs, a few deceased wives, his only child is a stillborn babe lying in the cold wet ground of James L. Fitzgerald cemetery. His life was an unhappy one it seems, but that didn't harden him. It didn't make him into a cruel man. He was always very nice to me and my cousins/siblings, with a closet-full of toys open to us at any time. At Halloween he gave out old medicine bottles full of pennies, or nickels if you got lucky. I took care of his declining second wife during her last few years for $5 an hour, which I thought was a fortune.

His health had been deteriorating for a while now. Parkinson's, CA mets (whatever that is), probably heart troubles. He was so thin the last time we saw him. 88 years old. Man. I'll miss him, he was a pretty swell guy. But he wasn't just a guy. He was a symbol of his generation. The fact that he was, of all of Grandma's siblings, the dearest to our family makes his death that much more influential on my heartstrings. He gave Mom away at her second wedding, because her parents were dead and his daughter (also named Amy) had died. He said he had always wanted to do that but had lost his only chance.

Mom, now there's an issue. Aunt Melissa told me about his passing, and I'll be telling Mom: it's my duty as the firstborn. But she's in Arizona, on the first vacation she's ever had, or rather the first one outside of Missouri. I don't know if I should tell her and have her miss the funeral but be really sad, or if I should keep it from her and have her miss the funeral but still enjoy her vacation. I've gotta talk to Ashley and Jim, see what they say. It's possible she'd fly back early for the funeral, but I just really don't want her to have to do that. She's never had the chance to do this before. She deserves it. But then there's this funeral.... I'll figure it out.

Anyway, I got paid today so there's little keeping me from going. Except work.

Dear you,

I just finished insulating my living room walls. It's only temporary until the wiring is finished, but at least the pieces are cut. I'm, I'm so fucking glad. It just doesn't look the same. It looks like a construction site again. We've got wires sticking out of odd places, insulation everywheres, 2x4s galore, a ladder here, tools all over. Things are really coming along. Yesterday I bought the cellulose insulation for the attic. A week ago I bought the drywall. Tomorrow Jordan'll be in town to finish the wiring, then Gale's gonna pay an electrician to come in and hook stuff up. Then the insulation will be put right back where I've got it presently, we'll put the drywall up (using a drywall jack on loan from a neighbor/fellow rentor), and then my living room will be so damned close to finish it'll be incredible. Oh man. Absolutely incredible. Then I'll have a guy from work come who knows how to finish walls for a cheap price, and then... and then.... And then at last I'll have a complete living room of my own.

At last my love has come and gone, my lonely days are over and life is like a song. Oh at last the sky above is blue, my heart is wrapped up in clover, now that I look at you. I found a dream that I can cling to, a dream that I can call my own. I found a thrill to rest my cheek to, a thrill that I have never known. Ooh and you smile, you smiled. Oh and then the spell was cast. And here we are in heaven, for you are mine AT LAST.

As a child I lived in a trailer. That trailer became a construction project. That project was in the middle of completion for at least 12 years. Most of my life it's been in a bad state. The floors were plywood with carpet laid across it like a rug. The ceilings were insulation stapled to moldy 2x4s. The kitchen slanted so much I could glide down it on skates. My bedroom carpet was orange shag, which I loved except that it was so old and beaten down. Where the walls weren't drywall, they were the old wood panelling. I was such a happy kid, but I really hated that house. All my life I've wanted a house that was complete, that was mine, that was whole. And here I am, weeks away from achieving that dream. Weeks! It's such a wonderful feeling. It's difficult to describe. I try to hide it, but my upcoming elation is much anticipated. I've got such plans for this house. I found a guide at Lowe's for painting walls. I've chosen a color for my bedroom, tickled peach, a kind of calm and happy yellow, but I don't know when Jordan intends to do work on my bedroom. If it's in the next year, I won't paint. If it'll happen after a year, I'm painting next time I have extra cash in my check. To be honest, I'm earning a goodly amount of money. My last two checks were $750 apiece, working six days every week.

Overtime: the only thing keeping me from complaining about working so much.

Anyway, the rest I have to say is just mindless dribble I'm recording for myself, so I'll end this here. I love you, whoever you are. Your life is important, an incredible gift from God. I'm imperfect. You're imperfect. Let's celebrate life's imperfections.

Love,
Megan

Mindless dribble:

Upon watching The Outsiders, I'm reminded of how much I would freaking love to have a black leather greaser jacket. Not one of those smooth regular kinda leather jackets like Mom used to have, but a tough James Dean kind, cut for a woman of course, with all kinds of zippers and things on it. Damn yes. The strangest thing is that if work continues as it is, I may be able to afford to buy one for myself. The Wii's been paid for, if it ever arrives. Ashley's getting me The Beatles: Rock Band for Christmas. My material wants are filled. Now for the material things I want less: rockin clothes, a tough jacket, paint, a ticket to the Billy Joel/Elton John concert in KC on December 1st, shots for my cats, having the kittens' balls removed. I'm gonna have quite a bit of expendable income once construction has gotten to a stopping point. Sure, I'll have the credit bills to pay. Six lines of credit I have going. With my student loans I'm around $13k of debt. I'm not concerned. There's no chance I'll have it paid off before graduating anyway, so I'll just incur what I need to and pay it off when I'm a nurse in two-and-a-half years. I'll have a lot more debt then, around $23k I guess, but I'll be able to afford it.

Money talk. Dull. Let's talk about important things, like friends and houses and cats. I'm starting to think individualized and specified love doesn't matter. Maybe I'm supposed to live my life alone, yet surrounded by love. Maybe my soul's paying for past indiscretions, but that kinda thought implies I believe in reincarnation, doesn't it? I don't know if I do or don't. I just think there've been so many trillions of souls already in this existence if each one occupies only one life, and that life lasts for such a short time, especially when occupying an animal. On the other hand, if souls leave one life and come back to occupy another, that's much more efficient. But God doesn't really need to operate based on efficiency. I, however, need a shower.

Damn Bagel keeps running out of the house every time I open the door. Little shit. Also there's a raccoon living in the brush around the place. I named him Rocky, a tribute to the Beatles. He came up to me the other night, started putting his little feet around one of my legs before I yelled at him, causing him to scamper off. It was like unto a hug.

I got practically all the walnuts and flat rocks picked up out of my yard this morning. Now as soon as it stops raining for days on end I can get the damned thing mowed. Lord knows it needs it. Unfortunately, the rocks have left many bald spots. I knew I should've picked them up sooner, but I just never did it.

Jordan's mad at me. Pissed. I'm not saying I don't deserve it. I went and saw Zombieland without him, I went with his mom. He'd already seen it, and he was in Kirksville, and I honestly didn't think he really wanted to see it with me when I suggested it while he was down, but turns out I was wrong. He did want to see it with me, and the fact that I did what I wanted to do instead of what I apparently said I'd do has pissed him off. Not so much the movie, not even this one isolated incident, but the way this incident reflects a long series of similar incidents, not the least of which was my initial agreement to go with him to cop school which I eventually backed out on due to the fact that I didn't want to be a cop. I made him sad, then he put all his sad and hurt words into an email which made me sad, and now we're just a couple of people who aren't texting each other because we're both mad at the other. I can't tell who's in the right, but I know for every point of mine he has what seems to be a valid counterpoint, though I'm not entirely sure I'm correctly communicating my points. He's not stupid though. I expect he's getting the gist of most of my points. I'm not sure if his counterpoints are true or if my points are true, but in any case, they aren't in agreement. I can't get him to concede anything to me, so it's up to me to concede. If I continue to push my side of things, I'll lose a great friend. I'd rather lose an argument and a bit of pride than a friend like him.

I really didn't think he intended to see that movie with me. I mean, there's so much I still wanna do with him. We're supposed to watch The Nanny together too, for example. But he lives so far away, and when he's down here it's usually for work. We never get to watch it, so I gave up trying. Still it hurt his feelings. I try harder with him than I've ever tried with any of my other friends and/or family, but my attempts are never enough. I fail at friendship. Luckily he's a good and patient friend. Once in a while I need retraining, and this is one of those instances.

I just spent at least an hour filling out what may end up being the wrong application for the Springfield Police Department. He has asked me to go with him. I don't want to be a cop, but honestly nowadays I'm starting to question my nursing dream. I don't know if that's what I want to be. I don't know what I do want to be, but I figured being a nurse was as good a career as any until I finally figured that out. Whatever my true dream is, it may be impossible, though I wouldn't mind ending up as a nurse on a reservation or in India or something. He has given me this chance to redeem myself in his eyes. If I go to the academy he's going to, the one the Springfield Police Dept runs for its trainees, then I'm golden. At first, I was still in my angry phase so I told him no. I told him I would only end up hating him for giving me no option other than giving up my dream. But then I gave it some thought. Would it be in any way possible to do both the academy and nursing school? Not simultaneously of course, but to do both just the same. And though I don't know the cost, length, or chances I'll even get in, it's still possible. And frankly I think Springfield's awesome. I've only been there twice, but I liked it.

The variables and possible obstacles include: finding an affordable apartment for me and the cats; finding a job I can work while going to the academy; working this out with my student loan providers, who may or may not be willing to let me delay a semester or year or however long the academy is so I can do this; moving, though whether I would still keep the house in Rolla is questionable. I have got a lot of money tied into it. There are a lot of things to consider. I want to do this for my friend, but is it doing too much? I know my father thinks so. I know before even telling him. And Mom, and Ashley, and everyone that isn't Jordan. Yet it's exactly what Jordan wants from me. He wants me to delay my nursing so I can go to cop school with him. On the one hand, it's incredible that he still wants me to share such an experience, but on the other, it's not something I want to do. Cop school isn't. Making him happy is. Doing this would mean that my life revolves around making him happy. But it would be a selfless thing to do, to change my plan for him. He considers me highly selfish already because I do think mainly of myself.

On one hand, he's just a friend so why would I do so much for him? On the other hand, he's a fucking great friend who has only once let me down, and that was in a very minor way, and I want to be his friend for as long as possible. I feel like I owe this to him. But is it so great a price that I can't afford to pay it? On the plus side, there is a large man-to-woman ratio at cop school.

I want to do this for him. I want to put my nursing on hold and go to the academy with him. If the variables work out, I probably will. After passing, maybe I can get a cop job though he hasn't been able to. Maybe Springfield would hire me, and then while working as a cop I could resume my nursing pursuit. After seeing Springfield, I've finally realized that Rolla, at first so huge and intimidating to me, really is still just a town, as is Farmington. But I like Springfield. I like its culture and options and Planet Sub. And maybe upon trying cop school I'll find I love it.

I can't tell if these are real arguments or if I'm just trying to convince myself that they are. I'm so confused. And the one person I usually turn to for advice, whether I take it or not, is the person wanting me to do it. If I don't, I don't know how much longer he'll want to be my friend. :(