Thursday, December 15, 2011

Nearing 22.. about to pass up my sister.

On February 21st of 2007, while sitting  in our living room on a seemingly normal day, my mother and I got one of the most devastating calls of our lives. My sister, Tiffany, just a month shy of turning 22, was dead.

Our family wasn't notified of much more than that, just that she had fallen off of a train in California, landed in a marshy area, and drowned (my sister was a train hopper). We immediately started making calls and checking into stuff, but had our heads butted by police at seemingly every turn. The story we ended up with was very fishy. Initially the circumstances were supposedly that my sister was in a car with only one other rider. He was completely unharmed, and gave the police a statement. He said that my sister was drunk off her rocker, and simply fell from the train. The since they were transients, I guess the police decided it's not exactly a death that requires much looking-into. Who cares about a transient, right? Anyway, then we got the tox reports. My sister's blood alcohol level was zero. No alcohol, no drugs. So this dude's story didn't check out. But, the police had already let him go, and gave ZERO follow-up.We also found out that there was, indeed, another person on the train with them. The police still didn't give a hoot.
My mother today still believes that my sister was murdered, and is still missing out on the closure one should get when your eldest child dies. I'm not convinced she was murdered, but I am absolutely sure the guy she was with is a dodgy sort, and should have been looked into further. Something happened, and we deserve to know what it was.

So my 22nd birthday is at the end of this month. I am about to be older than my sister. Birthdays have never been exactly a happy time for me, but this one seems just.. so absolutely wrong. I don't WANT to be older than my sister. I shouldn't have to be. My sister should be living her life, flourishing like she always has.
My sister is probably the most amazing person I have ever met. I feel cheated that she isn't here to be an aunt to my children. A sister to myself, a daughter to my mother. And she should always, always be my OLDER sister.
I hate this.

This is a link to the only page I could find that still had a copy of the article from her death (note what some asses are saying - that helps the healing SO much :/)

And this is my beautiful, amazing sister, who's life got cut short and we'll probably never know why

Monday, December 5, 2011

Author Photos are Ruining My Books.

Okay, maybe I'm really shallow. It's definitely a possibility. But I'm seriously starting up a movement to have author photos removed from books.

Why, you ask? Well, let me start off by saying I'm not into steamy romance novels (we'll get to why that's relevant in just a second). I actually read urban fantasies.. and a couple mysteries. But it doesn't really seem to matter what genre of book you read - excepting young adult books, and then even some of those - because they all seem to have at least one racy scene in it.. if not a whole lot more.
And this is where my shallow personality comes into play. I care too much who's writing those scenes. When I was roughly 15, I was really getting into Sidney Sheldon books. I was under the impression, for whatever reason, that Sidney was a woman's name. Let me tell you, it's a real shock to the system to be reading a sex scene where the super hot woman is giving a dude a warm-water-in-her-mouth blow job, and find out that THIS guy had the dirty mind to write it:

Or that this woman has the thoughts of fox demon, dragon, and Svartan on witch foursome sex scenes.

Obviously, everyone has a dirty mind at some point, right? And I don't expect all authors to magically look like Scarlett Johansson or Ryan Reynolds. But it doesn't mean I like thinking about 80 year old men writing blow job sex scenes.

It's not just that, either. Authors (for me, at least) are kind of an imagination thing. Just like you picture a character in your head, and you get mad when the person on the cover art just doesn't measure up, the author is the same for me. I picture them looking a certain way, and the actual photo of them never measures up. It's like a kid meeting his favorite super hero - only to find out it's just some drunk in a suit.

So yeah, I'm a horrible, shallow person who only cares about appearances. You got me. Now who wants to join my movement?