Saturday, December 31, 2011

Tally up & Cash in, 2011...

It's been an eventful year.
  • I quit my job at the bakery.
  • I got a new job at the Pizza Hut
  • I developed a kind of plan for life
  • I experienced true pain
  • I grew up, in more ways than I want to admit.
  • I lost a great friend
  • I miss my best friend
  • I got my driver's license
  • I decorated to escape
  • I changed my mind
  • I grew empathetic
  • I developed new admiration
  • I played a pirate
  • I played a dumb blonde
  • I played the IT Girl
  • I played the one who's whisked away. 
  • I ran away from an interview
  • I turned down an honest invitation
  • I reminisced.
  • I had my first relationship
  • I ended my first relationship
  • I successfully stayed friends with my ex.
  • I made plans.
  • I didn't get to keep plans...
  • I hid a dress that was half made.
  • I grieved.
  • I threw off all medications
  • I found the dress, and decided to finish it when I'm ready.
  • I stabbed myself with a pencil, leaving a mark that will never go away.
  • I sang in Carnegie Hall.
  • I met Michael Buble.
  • I saw my favorite Broadway Show live: Bonnie and Clyde.
  • I became more fond of tea than I am of coffee.
  • I put away childish things.
  • I flew for the first time
  • I was able to look down again. 
I sincerely hope that next year will not have the kind of excitements of this year. 
Much love, best wishes...

Saturday, September 24, 2011

I just fall more and more in love with APT

Last night, Tom, Anna and I went to see Of Mice and Men at American Players Theatre. 
 Best $21.50 ever spent. 
The drive up was about an hour and a half, which wasn't bad with the pair I was with, even though my radio is broken.
Anna took some pictures of me driving. That was nice of her, I guess? 

After a bit of a silly drive up, and a VERY slow Subway employee at making our dinners, we were afraid we'd be late for the show. Especially because we still needed to buy our tickets. 
Thankfully, we got our tickets (great seats, as well), and made it into the theater JUST before it began.

It was magic. 
Everything about that show was exactly as I remembered it from the book. I loved it so much when I read it to begin with, but this level of magic and devotion was something that made me cry. 
Steinbeck has always been important to me, but now more so. 
Riley was reading East of Eden when I met him. I remember vividly how old, and worn his copy was. He said he'd taken it from his high school library. There were due date stamps all over the inside of the falling-off cover.
That was the day we became friends. 
When I heard that Of Mice and Men was playing at APT, I knew I had to see it for him.
He would have loved it.
Watching the show and reading the book were two distinctly different experiences. While I was reading it, I was caught up by the wording and the characters. They were interesting and diverse from that which I've known. The events of the story were sad, but acceptable. Everything happened because it had to. 
Watching the play was so much more moving:
When Curly's wife went to see the men, because she had nobody to talk to, George explains to her that she'll cause them nothing but trouble by saying:
"You're like a round pebble. If a man comes along and trips over ya and falls and breaks his leg, now it's not the pebble's fault; but he sure as hell wouldn't have tripped if ya hadn't been there."
This comes into play when she and Lenny are sitting in the barn, and both of them have monologues that intersect with one another: Lenny about George and the rabbits, and he remembers things that George had been needing to tell him repeatedly all through the show, and Curly's Wife about her alcoholic father who she should have run away with.
She was Lenny's pebble. If she hadn't been there, then he wouldn't have killed her, and he wouldn't have had to run from the men, and George wouldn't have had to shoot Lenny. 

The best part of the show was the last scene, when the men split up looking for Lenny: it started to rain lightly. 
As Jim DeVita, who played George, spoke to Lenny, played by Brian Mani, and told him that they would still get their little place and live off the fat of the land, DeVita told Mani to take off his hat, and feel how nice the rain felt. 
George retold the old description of their place, while Lenny looked over the horizon trying to see it. As the ending of the worn description came, Lenny said he could see the place. He could see it, just over the horizon. 
And with a painfully moving expression, George shot Lenny. And the lights fell. 
And the rain stopped. 
When the lights came up and the actors took their bows, I realized I had been crying. 
I want to work here so bad. 

Much love, best wishes.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Complaining about September

It was a humid, sweltering day in early September. The type of day which taunted with the feeling of ripe August. The type of day that made catching your breath while standing outside seem difficult. This was the type of day that Bridget hated.
The type of days she actually liked the best were cool, sunless, and rainy, where fog hung in the horizon and over  the roads, where the air smelled of wet earth, cool pavement, and had hints of either coming spring or fall, it didn't matter which. Those days were nothing like this.
What Bridget hated most about this day was the absolute inescability of the heat, which made her face feel moist and soiled and her head throb. There was no place to go where you could be free of air that felt like dozens of bodies packed in a small room, despite your silly air conditioning. It was out of doors, and in; country and town. At least with the stubborn, bitter Wisconsin winter, once you reached your freezing point,  you could always be sure that somewhere, you will be warmer. Even if you enter an enclosed space with no heat, the promise that eventually you could be warmed by your own body warmth is a promise of some kind, no?
Much Love, Best Wishes!

The biggest waste of gas, money and expectation for having an enjoyable evening ever: A Prose, by Bridget Kelly

reblogged from sometime earlier this summer...
You meet a really cool person, and then you want to hang out with this person after you start talking to them and you realize that indeed they are as, if not moreso, cool as you thought. So, you plan to go see a movie.
Okay. Movies are great. I don’t have a problem with movies. Except they are usually easier to enjoy when you are sitting with people you have shared more memories with than a few text messages and the day you met. Just saying.
So Yeah, I’ll see a movie with you…oh great, a movie…Oh, you want to see it at AMC in Fitchberg?…I’m gonna have to drive aren’t I?…Well yeah, I suppose I know how to get to Belleville…seriously??…it’s only at 40 minutes away…you have NEVER driven 40 minutes to do ANYTHING, Bridget, let alone see a movie that is showing in the theatre in YOUR CITY…meet you at- Subway?…Where the hell is their Subway, more importantly: Why does my life revolve around Subways?!?…Yeah, I suppose it’s fine if we go with your friend Nate and his girlfriend Sophia…Woah, so this has suddenly turned from a movie to not only a date, but a DOUBLE-DATE!!!…Erm, yeah. So I should call you when I get to Belleville…Which I am driving to at 9:30 p.m., therefor it is freaking DARK!!!
So…Driving, driving, driving. Driving.
So you finally get there, pull into a sketchy abandoned subway/family dollar parking lot, and get out of your car, only to get into your friend’s car. His friend Nate and his girlfriend Sophia exchange the minimal amount of pleasantries to make you feel like you are accepted on this outing, even though THEY were the ones who your friend invited AFTER he invited you.
Sophia’s general demenor is that of a flustered, excited little bird, who happens to be a bit slutty. She chomps on her Spearmint gum, which you can smell even though you are sitting in the front seat, and giggles CONSTANTLY about whatever dirty/stupid/guy-ish things Nate is whispering in her ear. Nate is to be discribed in one phrase: The Unfortunate Douchbag. He’s the rare type of douchbag that gets the name because he makes ‘funny’ jokes about his own sexuality, playing on the idea that he is gay and has the hots for your friend, even while his hand has mysteriously disappeared from sight in the back seat with Sophia.
Sophia and Nate’s conversation eventually stops, but you aren’t relieved….Now they are making out. Audibly. And you can still smell that DAMN SPEARMINT GUM!!!!!
The front seat action is much more formal. And probably more comical, too, from an outsider’s veiw. Yes, I know that rhymed… You sit in the passenger’s seat, hands clasped, legs crossed at the ankle, looking out the window because you can’t think of a single thing to say, and you are already a little mad at the situation. Eventually you come across a topic in your head: Graduation.
yeah. Graduation. I’m sure he’s only had to talk to every relative, past teacher and adult-friend in his existance about that. But that’s all you have, so you chew the fat about that for a little while.
A very little while. Then you are REALLY out of things to say.
See, Bridget. This is the reason I TOLD you to think of something else to do. Hell, BOWLING would have been better. He even LOOKS like a good bowler!
After about 4 months, you arrive at the theatre. You make a lamn joke about how your car got keyed at this theatre last time you were here. You shouldn’t have. Now Sophia’s laughing like a hyena. Her hair is also far more out of placed than it was when she got in the car. And the windows were rolled up.
In the theatre, it’s completely empty. You all buy your tickets. keep in mind, that you pay for your own. oh, so this isn’t a date….and you find your theatre and seats. You and your friend are the first two sitting…Where is Sophia and Nate? Who knows?
They emerge just before the movie plays. The Green Lantern. Okay, so this movie doesn’t suck…just the people I’m with. Your friend turns around and talks to the couple once in a while and you get that feeling that you get when you sit with your brother’s friends and he’s not there. Out of place. Lost. but there is really nothing that you can do about it.
Flash-forward through a not-terrible movie. You leave. Get to the car. Sophia realizes that she left her wallet in the theatre. Yeah, I bet she did. Of course, she and Nate BOTH need to go retrieve it. it’s a two-person job.
Que you, sitting with your friend in the car. Okay, we can listen to some music. Good. That’s something that we’ve always talked about. He starts talking about his band. You ask if there are any gigs coming up that you could go to. Nope, no gigs right now. Dammit, that was more of a conversation bit than an actual question.
Sophia and Nate are back. Hair looks like she just woke up from a nightmare. Somehow, she STILL. CHEWS. GUM. Seriously, right now you are reminded of that ever-present piece of gum in the movie Nick and Norah’s Infinate Playlist.
Drive back…
More awkward lack-of-conversation on the ride back. More making-out in the back seat.
your friend asks the other two what they thought of the movie. You had said it was good, and you KNOW a good movie when you see it. It’s not on the top of any list, but it didn’t suck. Sophia said she could have seen it on Disney Channel. She’s young enough for you to ask her “You watch that alot, huh?”
Your friend laughs. Nate chuckles. Sophia looks confused.
When you pull into the sketchy subway/family dollar parking lot, it’s 12:15. It’s also cold as March.
Your friend thanks all for coming to see the movie. says goodbye to Nate and Sophia, and then you extend your hand for a firm shake, to avoid that awkward hug that was inevitable.
You get into your car, pull out of Sketch Lot, and starts cussing, the whole 40 minutes back home.
And then you realize you also have to pay for gas tonight. You are literally on Empty.
Well, needless to say I’m not doing THAT ever again. And I hope Sophia gets some type of disease.

Boys Who Drunk-Text their Feelings.

It's the night before school starts and I can't sleep, when a friend who I'd gone out with once on a tragically failed date texts me.
He admits that he's very drunk, and proceeds to tell me that I'm very pretty. And that he feels stupid telling me this, but he's liked me since he first saw me at forensics (well, what do you know, kids? ANOTHER forensics boy.). He first saw me and BAM. He liked me.
Boys are weird.
I mean, I thought he was attractive, too, but I could have told him that without being drunk.
He said he felt dumb telling me that he thought I was cute even when he WAS drunk.
That's sad.
But at least he was honest. And maybe a little shy.

Much Love, Best Wishes!

Monday, August 29, 2011

Pottermore, this is just ridiculous....

So I stayed up all night on the 2nd., and 3rd days of Pottermore early registration, and made it.
I even did that thing that they told me to do, with the:
"Just try to log in through the site!"
My head is gonna explode from annoyance.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Bridget and the Red Gallon Can

I hate cars. Hate them.
Even Leigh, my carefree 96 Neon, cannot be considered my favorite item.
Now, I have even more reason not to like them. Namely: Gas gauges.

So today I was running errands. I went to the bank to make a deposit for 15 bracelets that I had to send to a woman in Brodhead, and then I walked across the square to mail said bracelets at the post office, leaving my car parked in front of my bank.
When I got back to the bank, and tried to turn on my car, it wouldn't work. It took 3 tries to get Leigh's engine to flip and then I was moving.
When I say I was moving, I mean I drove to the first stop sign, and then my car start to make this putt putt putt sound, and slow to a crawl.
I managed to get a few yards and find the nearest parking space-a handicapped space, thank you very much- before Leigh stopped dead in the middle of a busy square on a Farmer's Market Saturday, at which time I called my father.
He suggested that I was out of gas. I looked at my gas gauge: not quite empty, but I did need to fill up, so I figured I'd feel really stupid if that's the whole problem and I wasted $20 on a check-up and would then spend another $20 on gas. I decided to take his word for it.
After a call to the police department, explaining why they shouldn't give me a ticket for parking in a Handicapped space, I set off, on foot, for the BP station.
BP is not a long walk, but anyone who saw my Tweets would know that I was complaining because it was hot and it was August and I hate walking where cars can see me. When I got there, I grabbed an overly-expensive Red Gallon gas can and made my way to the counter, where a man eating a danish and drinking a coffee made a half-hearted attempt at either humor, or helpfulness. (I'm still not sure which, his mouth was too full.)
With my full Red Gallon Can, I walked the automotive Walk Of Shame back to my car, past people smoking on their porches who called out: "Out of gas?" to my back.
I didn't know how to use the gas can.
My mother showed up and proved equally worthless at using the gas can.
And then I remembered that I have friends at the Farmer's Market.
With a little help from an old man who knew a thing or two about cars back in his day, Leigh got a gallon of gas.
The next part is fun:
So the old man told me that I still needed a lot more gas, and that I ought to go back to BP and fill up, so upon his advice, I put in another $10 worth of gas.
And then I can't find my $10.
So now I have to call mom again, who doesn't answer her phone as a rule (I like that it's one of the 5 pillars of my mom's secret religion, not Islam, but Mumism), and after the 6th call, I ask her to buy my gas.
"Here's my key, there's my car." I say to the cashier at BP, who knows what a shitty day I'm having. "I'm gonna go find my mom to get money so I don't have to steal your gas."
Trekking back to find my mom's car, I find my money, which I still have, because I'm poor, and mom offered to pay.
Much love, best wishes, and PUT GAS IN YOUR CAR!!!!!

Monday, August 22, 2011

writing a paper that takes 3 days...

So I'm sitting here at the library, having just finished an essay about the novel Atonement by Ian McEwan.
I was sitting here earlier, unfinished with a man sitting next to me. He can be viewed here:
As I stood up to go get a dictionary or something like that, the kind older guy said:
"Done with your book report?"
Book Report? This is NOT a book report. This is an essay for an AP Literature class asking me to identify a foil in the novel I chose (Atonement, see above). Using the foil I chose, i.e. minor character with ideas or behaviors that conflict with my main character, figure out how it highlights the strengths or weaknesses of said main character...
shoot. that does sound like a book report. 

Friday, August 12, 2011

In this really, really quick-like-a-bunny blog...

I will tell you that I got a new camera and that I need to go sew an overskirt for my Renaissance Faire costume because that's where I'm going tomorrow.
Bristol Renaissance Faire.
And I will take pictures and have a grand time and then I will blog tomorrow night about it.
And after that I will regale about my adventure last night.
'Twas interesting.
Much Love, Best Wishes!

Monday, August 8, 2011

Blogging more? Let's see how long this lasts...

Hello again.
So. I'm always cleaning my room. it's a long, long task. Half of the reason that it takes so long is that, as I clean, I decorate and I also abuse my netflix account. Which is how I managed to get through all the seasons of Torchwood and Bones and summer isn't even over yet.
Proof of the decorating comes to you in a picture of the new Chinese lanterns I bought online so that my room would have (minimally) better lighting:

Lovely, isn't it?
in addition to doing this, I also used all of those paper cranes that I had sitting around my room from the wedding and didn't have a heart to throw out, by linking them all together to form a chain:

This idea is not entirely unlike the other cranes hanging from my room either:

They are all so pretty.
Anyway, so as I was cleaning this old messy room of mine, I realized that I really drink a lot of Brisk Raspberry Iced Tea. It is apparent in the amount of empty bottles of it around my room. And I'm sure there are more in waste facilities around the state, as this is what I drink on road trips, as well. This doesn't even count my car. I'm sure there are SO many more in my car:
Safe to say that I have an addiction? I believe that would be a fair conclusion.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Hotel Paper Cranes

So, as mentioned before, I'm staying at a hotel in Dubuque IA, while looking at colleges.
In the bathroom of my room, I found a paper towel on which were written 10 creative things to do with the towel:
The last one said that I should try to make an origami swan. Well I have no idea how to do that, but I can make origami cranes, so I did that!

Friday, August 5, 2011

So I'm in Dubuque, IA right now looking at schools that I want to go to.
I really want to go to Loras Catholic College here. it's so pretty! Just look:

I really love this campus. It's so pretty and old and awesome. The only problem I have is that there doesn't seem to be a huge drama department. I mean they have productions, but even the auditorium is pretty small. 
You know what they say about big auditoriums?
I'm not gonna say larger audiences. 

Later we went to dinner at Applebee's for dinner and I had this amazing steak with bruschetta topping and shrimp, not to mention our amazing appetizer sampler thingy. 
I'm so full :)


Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The Fault in Our Stars. And The Reason I Don't Pre-order.

So John Green has to sign 2,000 books a day for about 75 days or sommat like that. That's because he promised that every pre-ordered book would be personally signed by him.
Well, as much as I want John to sign my book, I regret to say that I find the book would be worth less to me if he signed it in the pre-assembly stage than if I were to take it to a Nerdfighter gathering to be signed in person, as well as my copies of 'Looking for Alaska', 'Paper Towns', 'Abundance of Katherines', 'Will Grayson, Will Grayson', and my copies of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman and the 'Catcher in the Rye' by J.D. Salinger (reason being for the last two is that they have specific meaning in two of John's books. Also, their true authors are deceased. Walt Whitman isn't in the position to sign my book.).
Also, I love bookstores. And I look forward to going into a bookstore in order to get the new book the day it comes out, rather than thanking the UPS guy who brings it to my door. In fact, while I get my book, I want to go to the Cafe at my Barnes & Noble and get a nice cup of coffee and start reading it right there.
Atmosphere is really important in my life. You should see my room. There are paper cranes hanging from the ceiling and a big Chinese lantern and everything.
But yeah. That's why I'm going to drive all the way to Barnes & Noble the day it comes out, even if there is a possibility that they might not have a copy left. Even though that would kill me.
I just don't pre-order books.
I stake out bookstores.
P.S. Happy Esther Day! I love...all of you :)
Follow me!

Saturday, July 9, 2011

the Bad-Excuse Dragon left you a present...

So I have a new blog.
It's a Tumblr.
Does that make me a traitor?
Either way, I'll be blogging more from that more that I will from this. Which doesn't seem a hard feat based on the fact that I almost never blog on here.
But you know, maybe I can use the excuse that I don't have a very interesting life! I mean, what high school senior does? Or maybe I don't have anything to say about anything? What's to say? "Went to see the Green Lantern and bought a Coke Zero from the gas station. Raise the roof."? (name the reference and you get an imaginary prize!)
Alright. So my life isn't that un-interesting and I always have something to say...
Would you believe me if I said I was lazy?
Ok. I'm lazy.
And not just about writing. True, writing is important in having a blog, but there is something else more important that I am also too lazy to do.
Thinking. I mean, I do think....but coming up with ideas that are blog-worthy takes some serious planning skills. As well as an honest wish to do so. If you don't WANT to have a good, read-worthy blog, then you won't.
Well I shouldn't say that as a rule. I'm sure someone out there set out to make a really dumb blog but got a ton of peope to read it regularly. What I'm saying is that not wishing and attempting to make your blog good is probably not going to help you in making it big. Your own mother probably won't read it.
If I were to write a blog like that, my mother wouldn't. There is two reasons for that:
1. Said blog is probably absolute crap, &
2. My mother can barely work the computer.
So you should probably like what you do, if you are going to spend so much time doing it.
Hey, that sounds like a life lesson about college and careers and such! Gee, this has been a Super-Fun time!
*que look of deathly sarcasm*

So I will now leave you my url. please follow me there as well as here:
I will be posting in there as well as in here. often. ish.
Au revoire!

Sunday, April 3, 2011

You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown, A new theatre, and the Cast of a Storm

I went to see a musical on Friday night at the newly renovated Monroe Theatre Guild-You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown.
The theatre? Beautiful. Nothing like the crappy, scrappy old department store we used to use all of the time. Even the workspace, which was once nothing short of treacherous to walk on barefoot or in sandals is now a beautiful SHINY hardwood floor. So everything, absolutely everything is different and new.
But honestly, I don't know how I feel about that...
You see, I'm kind of a creature of habit, and only things that are truly traumatic or a very very long period of time can change my way of doing things. I don't know why this is, but it could be because my constant stream of bad luck has lead me to believe that any tip of the scale will have my hanging onto anything left for dear life...
ANYWAY...the reason for my hesitation about the gorgeous new Theatre Guild set-up is probably because about three years ago, this is where I met Riley.
Also, it really pisses me off that he didn't get to see it now. He would have loved it...
The new set-up itself is completely different, except for the costume shop, which they haven't gotten to yet, but wasn't even that bad to begin with. We have that whole hard-wood rehearsal space, a new make-up room (YES! we've NEVER had a WHOLE ROOM for putting on make-up!), multiple new bathrooms with one including a shower, a kitchen for food prep, and a brilliant and cunning little Black Box theatre.
The show itself was the first show that has been performed in the theatre, and it was cute.
The whole cast did brilliantly, and I especially loved the character of Snoopy.
My favorite part actually had to be during the song: Glee Club Rehearsal, where everyone was fighting about something:
Linas took Lucy's pencil, because she took his crayons; Lucy said that if Linas didn't give back her pencil, then she was going to tell Sally what Linas had said about her, which provoked Linas to withhold the pencil until Lucy promised not to say anything. Well, Sally overheard and wanted to know what Linas had said so she took the pencil from Linas and told Lucy she'd give it back if she told Sally what Linas had said about her.
and Lucy told her:
"He said, he said: You're an Enigma!"
at this, in the audience, I burst out laughing.
I have a history with being called an Enigma, and this was just one of those moments where I have to wonder why my life is set up with both shocking coincidences and tragic irony.
I wonder if this is all coined the way that it is so that one day, I don't have a choice in being a writer anymore.
In fact, the way I see it, I could probably write a book right now, and it wouldn't be half bad. I mean, it might not be half good either, but if you're one of the very few who reads this blog, you'd know better than I would anyway.

It's raining right now, outside my windows.
I haven't been able to sleep in my own bed very well at times, so sometimes I sleep on the couch in the rec room. It's particularly nice tonight because of the storm.
I love storms, but they always make me somewhat morose, and right now they have me thinking about all the things I miss.
I'll try to dismiss that, though, and focus on what the rain is:
The rain is cool, as smooth as silk.
It's quiet, like a whisper. Like rain, when you hear a whisper, it's often soft enough that you don't even realize you're hearing it until everything else fades away and it's just you and the whisper; you and the rain.
The thunder could never sound threatening to me, even when it echoes like a canon. It just makes me feel warmer, and safer where ever I am.
Except now, but that doesn't matter.
When thunder rolls, it almost seems to me like it's upset that it has to make sound. Thunder doesn't want to scare children and wake the sleeping. It doesn't relish having a reputation for sounding angry, but Thunder is peeved, therefor even though it doesn't really want to sound annoyed and loud and disgruntled, it will anyway.
Lightening is another story...Lightening is aloof. It comes and goes when it's called, but only stays long enough to make the appropriate entrance and then leave. You can see it as it goes: a few veins of white and blue light that spirit across the sky faster than your eyes can change focal points.
Some say that Thunder and Lightening go hand in hand, but I disagree. I think that Rain is the real star of the show, the one that's always loved and worshiped and the one that people kiss each other standing in. Then Thunder is the side-kick, the one that people hear and either like or dislike, but based on the reputation adapted from the opinions of nearly every dog, child, and light sleeper in the world, isn't very happy with his lot in life. Lightening comes last, but that's because Lightening chose to do it that way. He doesn't mind or care. He has other things to think about, and illuminating the dark world for a few milliseconds isn't the biggest worry he has; hence the reason he's always late to work: lack of care.

The rain still hasn't stopped, but I might now just sit and listen to it.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

A post long overdue...Riley V. Whitehead in my memory

I know that just about...nobody...reads this blog.
I'm okay with that.
Still, I feel like I owe it to myself now to at least attempt to start writing again. Otherwise I might explode.
A little over a week ago, a dear, dear friend of mine commited suicide.
Riley Vernon Whitehead took all of his dear friends by surprise and jumped of the 9-floor balcony of his Madison apartment. Riley passed away at the hospital.
That's a brief overveiw. I'm not going to explain why he did this, and I'm not going into any more detail about this event.
Really, what I think I will write about, even if it's only for a little while, is what an enigma Riley was to me.
This is one of my absolute favorite pictures of Riley.
Can you guess that book?
I did: Fahrenheit 451
That could never tell if his stories were real, or if they were stolen, or just made up. I swear, sometimes, I wanted them to be real just because that made him into a super-hero. A flawed super-hero, yes...but a hero none-the-less.
One of the best things about Riley was that he knew when he'd really screwed something up. and he knew his faults. He made fun of his faults, turned them into faults I wanted to have, even though it wouldn't be the same, and I'd just be a huge mess.
I think that God graces every (or at least most) humans with a certain amount of charm. A teaspoon of wit and magic mixed into the rest of our genetics. Well, God must have been distracted, and put in about 4 times as much charm into that kid as he did for the rest of us. Now that chemical imbalance had to be fixed, and I think the only way to set it off was to give him the most creative and inventive brain since that of Da Vinci.
Well, actually...he'd laugh at me if I said that, so maybe not Da Vinci. Still, you get the point. He was an amazing liar, but I miss the lies.
I also really miss him.