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crazybeckygithens
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Name: Becky
Country: United States
State: Illinois
Metro: Salem
Birthday: 11/16/1989
Gender: Female
Interests: I love the arts. Music & drama give me a way to escape from the every day plunders of the world. Writing helps me to escape the world which I'm forced to dwell in after escaping the previous plunders.
Expertise: Making people smile and laughing at almost anything.
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
MSN: crazybeckygithens@hotmail.com
Member Since:
11/22/2004
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| Sunday was an interesting day. I went to the theater, had a good afternoon performance, and came home. I told my sister, Serena, about the kids there, and the phone rings. My sister hands me the phone. It's my sister Tricia. At first I'm really excited, because she never ever calls me and I love hearing from her. I love family...well...you guys all know that. Back on topic. So, I talk to her...and she tells me that my grandpa past away.
It's times like these when movies seem more realistic and personal. There's always a slow motion scene where the main charactor is fixated on something and the rest of the world slows down and becomes silent. A seemingly speechless and abstract persona consumes that charactor in what seems like hours...but are truely only seconds to the viewers. The camera fades, and then brightens as reality sets in at full speed.
My only regret is that I didn't spend as much time as I could have with my grandpa. Truth be told, I hadn't seen him too much until my grandma past away almost two years ago. After that I visited him from time to time, and yet I know and recall of days where I sat around doing nothing, and could have gone to see him. Those times are lost now, though, so I suppose I should only dwell on the time that I did get to spend with him.
One of my first memories of my Grandpa Githens, is of eating mulberries off of a tree in his backyard. I loved them terribly. They were always sweet and gushed in your mouth.
I remember tomatoes in the garden.
A bug zapper that was always buzzing.
A can of tabacco.
My grandpa also had an amazing abiltiy to transform quarters (the ones that were made from actualy silver) into rings. I remember him on the porch beating them into the perfect shape, the perfect size, and always...the perfect shine.
Most recently when I would see my grandpa, he'd tell me stories of the past. Stories of my Father, uncles and aunts, and stories of his time serving in the war. I remember him talking about my grandmother, and I could see in his eyes how deeply and how strongly he yearned to be with her again.
And as all of these memories cascade through my mind as if they were scenes from a movie...I always see my grandfather smiling. I wouldnt change that for anything. He was a kind loving man, who loved his wife, his children, his grandchildren and a good laugh.
Now he's in that great blue palace up in the sky. He's finally been reunited with his wife...and three of his sons. He's in the happiest place he could have ever been; the greatest paradise undiscovered by man.
I love you grandpa.
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Obituary:
Richard E. Githens, age 83, of Salem died Sunday, August 5th, at Good Samaritan Hospital in Mt. Vernon. He was a carman and welder with IL Central Railroad. Funeral services for Richard E. Githens will be Wednesday, August 8th, at 10:30 am at the Rogers-Atkins Funeral Home in Salem with burial in Zion Grove Cemetery. Military rites will be given by the Salem American Legion. Visitation will be Tuesday, August 7th, from 6:00 to 8:00 pm at the Rogers-Atkins Funeral Home in Salem. Memorials may be made to St. Jude's Children's Hospital. Survivors include son: Robert Githens and wife Elena of Centralia, daughters: Peggy Hallam and husband Herschel of Georgia and Patty Farthing and husband Jerry of Odin, sister: Alice Dungey of Nashville, TN. | | |
| I wake up in the morning. I take my shower. I put on my make-up. I get dressed. I go to school. I go to work. I do homework. I go to bed.
I wake up the next morning. I take my shower. I put on my make-up. I get dressed. I go to school. I go to work. I do homework. I go to bed, only to start the rutine all over again in the morning; with exceptions of not waking up in time for school, days off, and weekend plans.
I am by most standards, an average american teenage girl. I go through the same things that nearly ever other seventeen year old girl in the United States go through. I am average. I'm nothing incredibly special. Yet, there are times when I witness the curious rutines of others that differ than mine. Ones that involve doing drugs, screaming at significant other in the hall, threatening to beat someone up in the lunch line, and bragging about how many times "so and so" got "laid" in the past weekend.
Yes, these are the times when I become invisible. I am a camillion on the wall, quietly watching the lives of others go by. I hear people brag, curse, and laugh. I am a ghost that floats through the hall.
I see a girl who looks upset. However, this is how she always looks. So sad, so depressed, so angry at the world. She'll complain to her friends that she feels down, only to tell them later that she doesn't want to talk about it. She'll contemplate killing herself late at night, and perhaps she'll decide one night to do it. She'll be a ghost like me.
I see a boy so impressed with himself that he feels no need for boundries. He curses at authoritive figures and puts girls in situations they don't feel comfortable in. He plays sports, but still goes out on weekends to drink and party, ignoring the Athlete Code issued by his Highschool. However, none of that matters to him, because he will always be number one in his own minds eye. He'll drink, and drive, he'll probably get in an accident. He'll be a ghost like me.
I see a girl, bouncy and bright. She worked late last night, and didn't get to study for her Biology test. She knows that she didn't do very well. But, rather than looking at the floor as if the apocolypse has come; rather than going out that night and getting drunk, rather than yelling at her manager for keeping her late or the teacher for scheduling the test for that day, she thinks it out. She realizes that she can always do better next time. She continues her day happily. She talks with her friends. She makes plans to have an all-girl sleep over/chocolate/romance movie party. She helsp her friends when they are down. She listens without judging. She is a great friend, and mentour. She is content with her life and future.
She will not be a ghost like me.
As I slowly fade back into the now thinning crowd, I am glad that I didn't allow myself to be like the others. I see that I am proud of the way I have grown, and turned out. I'm content with my beliefs, and my friends are magnificent. I am happy with my life without trying to overpower authority, without depression.
I am Becky Githens. I am an average American. I'm nothing incredibly special. However, I have discerning tendencies. I percieve emotions. I can read eyes. I can the sort of day your having from the hug or kiss you give me. But, setting all of that to the side, it's still interesting to blend into the walls and become the camillion.
To temporarliy be a ghost, haunting the hall. | | |
| So, I pretty much havn't updated in forever. The plays going well and my birthday was thursday. I have trouble updating this thing so much. I'm so use to myspace. Yes... yes I know. I use to think, "Who needs myspace? Xanga is freaking awesome!" But... sadly I've become a myspacer.
Hopefully sometime soon I'll upload some newer photos. But, until then. ... | | |
| Declaration Of True Love* When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one woman to dissolve the romantic bands which have connected her with any other males, and to devote her heart , among other things, to the one man who has also devoted his endearment, that woman must articulate that she is no longer on the market. With hand in hand, with arms embraced, with heart stolen, this woman must declare that she is in love.
He has been my best friend for 3 years.
He is extremely patient and understanding
He has dried my tears with his hope
He has shared my pain He picks me up when I am down
He has been devoted to my needs and wants
He has expressed his undying love for me.
He captures my heart with each glance
His kisses make me feel special
He comforts me when ex-boyfriends are immature.
I, therefore, as a woman of romance, do, in the name of Juliet, Cinderella, Belle, Snow White, and Ophelia, proclaim my unadulterated true love for Keith Christopher Ball. I hereby divulge this declaration and for the purpose of this declaration, I vow my countless movie ticket stubs, my dried roses, my heart, and my bright future with the man I love.
Rebecca S. Githen
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| Goodness, disrespectful freshman irritate me. But that's okay because....
I GET TO GO TO THE CONCERT ON THE 16TH!!!
Oh Yeah! IN FEAR AND FAITH MOTHAFUCKAH!
I'm excited. Keith was pretty much like, "Hey ma, can I take Becky to this concert?" and my mom's like "Okay."
The rule use to be that I couldnt go without me padre. I suppose though since I'm older now and I have an ubber protective and wonderful boyfriend, it's different. I havnt been to a concert in over a year. So... this makes me happy. I'm hoping Bailey and Tyler will go. Bailey liked In Fear and Faith waaaaaaaaay back when they were still Frayl. (I didn't even find out about them until they were When Mourning Comes) So. Yay for excitment.
I love my parents. They rock. I love my boyfriend. And Bailey is the greatest bestest friend ever. Plus she's hot.
Amanda told me a joke today that made me want to cry and tear with laughter. (I seriously love love love this girl)
"What did the deaf-dumb-blind kid get for Christmas?"
Answer- Cancer.
It's horrible. And yet it was funny.
Evan and I have started making politically incorect sayings for when we are aching/sweaty/tired at band. So far here are the ones we have come up with.
I have to pee like a pregant woman- Me
I'm sweating more than a whore in church- Evan
My knees hurt worse than a gay man in a bathroom stall- Me
I'm more pissed off than Satan in Sunday school- Both of us.
Oh the times. They are great. | | |
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