So, ever since Aunt Margaret left me her laptop, I've been going through it, and I actually think she's got parts of 20 books in there. No, I'm serious. She had all these unfinished manuscripts and concepts for books that she never actually put to paper. There was one where she wanted to explore the afterlife. Maybe she 'crossed over' to research that one?
I've never been a big believer in reincarnation. I always thought it was a hokey construct meant to satisfy people who missed their relatives after they died. But I've been itching to go to the cemetery again, if for no other reason than to see if ghosts really exist and there is a 'heaven' or at least some kind of half-life purgatory.
If that isn't enough, Darrel is completely ignoring me. He actually showed up to my house and plopped down on the sofa and didn't speak a word to me. He doesn't return my phone calls.
I've been spending the last few days planning my birthday party, and I have to tell you, the constant emails and IMs trying to get people to show up has been exhausting. I had to line up a DJ. My dad paid for the rental of the Old Pier Beach for the afternoon.
So when I went to Darrel's to invite him personally, he wouldn't even come to the door. Instead his stepfather just stared at me. Darrel, meanwhile, wouldn't even give me the satisfaction of blasting his insults to me face to face. So, I had to talk to him behind the barrier of the door.
"Are you coming to my birthday party Saturday at Old Pier?" I asked.
"Why? To stare at some toffee faced brats running around in swimsuits?"
I took offense. "Who are you calling a toffee faced brat?"
"If the shoe fits, sister --"
By that time I was steaming mad, about ready to kick down his front door. "Look, Darrel, I'm the damn cause you passed trig this term, and this is the thanks I get?"
I turned around and stomped away, trying to fight the tears that were trying to stream down my face. 
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