Tagged: bizarre

Grief.

Hey internet.

Grief is a weird thing. First of all, it’s a weird word. Grief. Grief grief grief. It sounds like a grunt noise, like something that would accidentally come out of your mouth if you hit the ground at a funny angle or something.

Secondly, it hits you at really bizarre times.

Yesterday was the 3rd anniversary of the day my best friend Miks died. Which is horrifically morbid, but also something you don’t tend to forget. I’ll spare you all the gory details, except to say that she died of leukemia, and that her illness and her death were a defining point in my life that ultimately changed me forever. Probably for the better or whatever. Yet I digress.

My friend Kimchi and I had dinner (pork chops and quinoa) and drank Miks’ favorite booze (lambic) and it was all well and good and not even particularly sad. In fact, apart from a little sad tingle at seeing all the pictures of Miks floating around on Facebook, I actually managed to have a pretty good day yesterday.

That’s not to say that I’m not still grieving though. I still dream about her all the time. Constantly. Randomly, too. Like I’ll be at a dance in alternate China trying to stop a walrus from bathing in the punch (true story) and she’ll be there passing out cookies or dancing with a giraffe or singing in the background. Then I’ll wake up and experience that awful jolt of remembering she’s dead.

For the first year or so, I kept trying to call her. That was the worst, I think. I know I texted her at least twice about a month after she died. Or I’d find a song or a Youtube video I’d want to share with her and just about post it to her Facebook.

Birthdays are the worst. For obvious reasons.

Like I said, grief is weird and random, and it hits you hard when you you least expect it. Kind of like if a complete stranger hits you in the stomach when you’re walking down the street. It’s not really something you can control. You can’t decide when you get mad or offended or sick or sad, you can only manage how you deal with those feelings.

For right now, I guess pork chops and booze is a good way to go.

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Tops Never Stops (being really odd).

I just ran out to Tops to do a bit of shopping and it was very bizarre in there today, internet.

First of all, going to Tops always makes me feel like I’m cheating on Wegmans, because Wegmans is basically a cult. It’s a lot farther from my house than Tops, however, and there’s a gas station right in the parking lot, and on a day where I mostly want to curl up in my jammies and drink spiked hot chocolate all day instead of venturing outside, I feel like Tops is the perfect place to hit up for some low risk snacking.

As I told my dear roommate Varenka, Tops is where you go when you’re hungover and you don’t want to run into anyone you know while you’re sneaking in to buy Cheetos and Dr. Pepper in your unwashed fat pants, whereas people dress to impress to go to Wegmans (not true).

At any rate, the cashier was ringing up my very bizarre basket, which consisted of bean sprouts, frozen pierogies, and goat cheese, and I noticed that the woman behind me had not one, but nine three packs of chocolate pudding, off-brand cheesy puffs, and saline solution.

I’m not one to judge (lemon hummus and raspberry kefir), but doesn’t 27 packs of pudding seem like a lot? I’m a little inexperienced with pudding, but it seems like a lot to me. Is she feeding an entire soccer team? How many people are on a soccer team, again? 14? Or is that football?

I digress. She just had a lot of pudding. Although to be fair, the girl in front of me was only buying ramen packets, but it’s finals week, and you gotta do what you gotta do.

Another weirdness – there was a basket hanging from the number pole thing (you know, that thing with the lighty number doo-dah) labeled “My Pick of the Week” and apparently Sharon, who was my cashier, had picked cough drops for her pick of the week. Was she sick, or was she a cough drop enthusiast? I wanted to ask, but she was a rather glare-y high schooler, so I didn’t want to be attacked by her hormone fueled rage-angsting.

I just googled cashier pole to find a picture of what I'm talking about and...it was awful, internet. So you get this picture of my dog Dr. Pepper looking askance instead.

I just googled cashier pole to find a picture of what I’m talking about and…it was awful, internet. So you get this picture of my dog Dr. Pepper looking askance instead.

I just have so many questions, internet. Like why they always seem to have containers of cut-up strawberries mixed with blueberries in the produce section. Is there a trend I’m missing out on here?