Friday, January 3, 2014


We're all still alive, more or less. Ryan is still... well, not exactly all here, but we're all still breathing. Grandpa and I are working together to deal with him, he's not actively hostile, just kind of hard to work with. He'll react to simple commands and do things like feeding himself and going to the bathroom, but most of the time anything more than that is completely beyond him. Grandpa's taking it hard, and neither one of us have been particularly in the mood to talk to people, much less tell the world exactly how poorly we're doing. I wish there were more to report, but honestly the whole thing is both depressing and dull, and other than whatever Grandpa gets up to in his spare time, I think the most exciting thing happening here is my learning French, which should give you an excellent idea of just how dull things are.

Apparently having a proxy name him a sage was enough to stir us both up. I know he said he doesn't think he's sage material, but he's a lot smarter than he gives himself credit for, and I'm pretty sure he could contribute some useful knowledge. He doesn't know everything, or even most things, but he probably knows a lot more than most runners, and he's pretty good at figuring stuff out. Plus, he has me around to help, which doesn't hurt either.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

So apparently I'm a sage now

Because a proxy is a credible source.

It's rather irritating, actually. I was dealing with my problems one lousy step at a time until I started getting notifications about how Fracture started commenting all over my blog. I don't even know how that happened. I think Elizabeth might have set it up. And then he made that post. And now I am going to have people debating about whether or not I'm Sage material for who knows how long.

I'm not, by the way. In case anybody was suffering from any delusions.

And here I am back writing. Which is irritating, because I've discovered that it is very difficult to have a blog and not descend into diary mode. And I am really not interested in that. Though I imagine you all are.

You know, I've heard some people talk of writing as a compulsion. As some sort of side effect of His hold on you. But I don't believe that is it. People are social creatures. It is what they do. And when something terrifying and unique happens, they seek out ways to find that they are not alone. And that is what the blogs do. The Compulsion is nothing mystical. The Compulsion is other people.

And it seems that even I am not immune to it.