30,045 Days

            How many lives can you touch in 30,045 days? More than you think. September 1920-December 2002 that is 30,045 days to be born, go to school, graduate, get married, have kids, have friends, stand by your man, have a job, have grand kids, defend your friends, cook, retire, travel, eat, love, joke, laugh, read stories, be sick, cry, sing and also dance. That is 30,045 days to create your own story. The story belongs to my grandma, all 30,045 days of it.  I stumbled across her obituary one day and there wasn't a lot printed. But I realized it would have taken a skillful author to even come close to describing the life my grandma lived, something California is lacking. I'm a mere amateur, but I will give you a brief glimpse of the best lady that lived.
               When I was little I told my Grandma that all she had to do was live until my nineteenth birthday. At that time I thought 19 was old. I told her I would be a vet, I would be married, I would  have kids, and she could be a grandmother to them. That didn't happen.  Not only am I older than 19, no kids, not married, and finishing my under grad degree, she died in 2002. I don't remember why 19 was a special number, but I figured that I would accomplish a lot in the next ten years, most of all I wanted to give another generation of  people my Grandma.
           Two of the greatest stories I have ever heard have been about her. Just to get an idea of the kind of lady my grandma was, I will share them with all of you. My Grandma attended church, and one day the Preacher went to my Grandma and asked her if she would go with him to his comedy routine. He asked her to go because of her laugh. He said it was the best laugh he had ever heard, and he loved that she so thoroughly enjoyed herself. The second story involves a thrift store where my Grandma worked.  They had been having some shoplifting, and to stop the shoplifting they were asking the employees to search the customers bags before they left. My grandma asked if she understood them correctly, she asked "You want me to search my friends?" Their reply was yes, and she left the store. My grandma was a strong lady, and had undying values, that I hope I inherited.
             At her memorial service, people from her church came, her neighbors and family came, but the most amazing thing to me was her bank tellers came. My Grandma was a riot, and everyone loved her.  My only concern that I didn't fully understand as a child was that she didn't love herself as much as everyone loved her.  I would do anything to go back in time and take away any insecurities that she ever felt.
            As kids we were pranksters, and she would laugh at our pranks and jokes. As children you quickly learn what makes people agitated, and then you repeat that action. My Grandma hated worms. When I was little I went outside and started digging, I couldn't find a worm, but I cupped my hands like I had one, and ran inside to find her. She thought it was real worm, and jumped, which made me laugh hysterically which started her laughing. After hearing about my dad's pranks, you would think she would be used to everything.
          I love the story of the day she found a desert tortoise. She was inside and saw through the window what looked like a ball so she went outside to get it and to her surprise it was a tortoise.  My grandma would tell us all the stories, we would climb  on her lap and she would tell story after story. They were mostly about camping, and I can only recall a couple out of the hundreds. I want her memory to live on, so that everyone knows how great she was. She traveled, mostly camping, she could shoot, cook, but most of all she loved to read and she loved reading.
            She wanted her grand kids to get an education, and did everything to make sure that would happen.  My education is not only for me, but it is for my Grandma.  She is up there smiling down on "Grandma's Angels."

Quarters in college

Laundromats are fantastic inventions.  A place where we can collectively go to show that we care about personal hygiene.  I would like to bring up one flaw, and perhaps you can think of others. The machines at laundromats accept quarters.  Quarters are hard to come by.  I will take this one step further, quarters in college are even harder to come by, think about it. Do college kids have dollars? No we have pieces of plastic and change.  When you can't buy one scan tron with your plastic card, because the purchase does not cost enough, you begrudgingly give up one of your quarters. When she gives you your two cents in change you sarcastically say, "Thanks" but to your dismay it usually sounds sincere. Vending machines are another quarter grabbing invention of every institution.  The only thing different about vending machines is that they are almost change exclusive.  Try sliding your card in the dollar slot, it doesn't go over so well.  Those days when you are dying of hunger you look at the clock it says 10:00 am, you look down at your schedule it says "arrive home at 5:00 pm," and you have to decide if losing yet another couple quarters is worth not starving. You make a decision in haste and then you have 3-5 less quarters.  When you arrive home you realize your laundry needs to be done.  Being the college kid you are, you realize your quarter collection is dismal.  You once took quarters for granted, especially when you remember when your parents would give you quarters for turning off the lights or doing small chores.  Now its like "Where's my quarter now, mom?"  So you come up with  your excuses if you are not a boy as to why you are wearing the same pair of jeans for the fifth time.  "Umm yeah, so I was going to do my laundry and then there was a break in and they stole all the washers, but they left a bag of pennies." Sometimes I wonder if everyone decided to do their laundry on the same day would we run out of quarters?  And then I think no, because they don't have quarters in England.

Don't do it

Sometimes, very rarely, people decide to argue with me.  And I'm like what are you doing? That's when I forget that they don't know I come from a family of lawyers. I had a very articulate up bringing. When I gave my opinion on something, I had to have an introductory sentence and three supporting arguments, followed up with a conclusion.  I grew up where you couldn't spew off random facts, because then you would have Dred Scott v Sanford or perhaps Brown v Board of Education if you brought up civil rights.  Roe v Wade on abortions, or Texas v Johnson the famous case on your first amendment rights thrown at you.  You would be sitting in left field talking about how you hate police and then Bam! A blow from right field about Miranda V Arizona. At the end of the spiel, you're like "Dude I was just saying how I hate being blamed for hitting a car while I was on my bike, and he ran the stop sign. But thank you for that brief history lesson."  Not every 8 year old can recite the Miranda rights, and why they exist. Your eating a sandwich when it is stolen and your brother goes into an argument about how the Supreme court would rule in his favor. You learn the difference between lies, big lies, bluffing lies, small lies, white lies, perjury, emergency lie, lie by omission, and that's when you finally say "Yes I stole your snickers, but I didn't know it was yours." They follow up with "ignorance doesn't stand up in court."  People do have retorts when trying to win an argument, and I'm like "please fool, I write papers in my sleep.  I will have a ten page typed report on why you are wrong by morning." I will only pick an argument if I know that I am truly without a doubt right. You can enter this argument knowing that I have done my research and will prove to you, with meticulous facts, just how wrong you are. Or in the rare change of events, just to keep the world in a mix up, I'm proven wrong.

Focus

Over the past few months I've had a hard time focusing. If there is a distraction, a lost dog, a sunny day, I get distracted, I find the dog a home and enjoy endless walks...but I can't focus. I feel like my life has become a stagnant  pool of water, and I'm attracting mosquitoes by the dozen, it's just a matter of time until I contract the dread West Nile Virus.
Sometimes I know the cause but can't find the cure.  People have all the advice, and I just think how easy it is when you are looking from the outside, and can tell people just what they need to do.  It's different when you are the person, and you don't want advice, because you don't know what you want.  Sometimes I think people think I'm a paranoid schizophrenic because I walk into class looking at my phone, and continue holding my phone during class, turned sideways in my chair, head down, playing all the games, and jump when people talk to me.
Your past has an odd way of catching up to you.  These past couple months have been an emotional roller coaster of ups and turns and straight up downs, I feel like I'm on a track going a hundred miles an hour, and then the brakes come on and we come to a dead stop.  I can feel alone in a crowded room, and I can stare off into space for a half an hour, I can be so close to the people I love and feel nothing, I can walk two miles and not remember a thing, see countless faces and recognize not a one in a crowd. I feel like I have so many things to tell people, but I don't know what to tell them, and if I did, I wouldn't know where to start.
My life plans changed a lot in the last month, I'm 21 and yet I feel like I'm going through a midlife crisis. People tell me to talk to them, to tell them what's wrong, but I don't know how, and I'm not entirely sure I could. I feel like I have to make all the life changing decisions, and if I change it will affect everyone, maybe positive, most likely negative.
For as much as I stumble I'm running, and as much as I run I'm still here. I know that I still know how to laugh, and I still love.