*Greeting should in no way be construed to guarantee or warrant happiness or other good feelings during Greeting Period, or warrant or guarantee an acceptable holiday. By accepting Greeting, Receiver expressly agrees that he or she assumes the risk for his or her own holiday. Receiver will hold Sender harmless should Receiver's expectations for Greeting Period and wishes contained herein not coincide.
nicked/tweaked from Onezumi
- Was expected to be a boy at birth. I was "Mathew Alexander" up until the minute of.
- Never had a first step but had a first run - away from my Dad, screaming bloody murder when he came home from work one day. Nothing prompted this reaction.
- Never had a first word but I had a first sentence - "Turn The Radio On!" shouted over my parents bickering in the car on the way to their house of worship one warm and shiny Sunday.
- Was born with a Witch's lock, (a streak of gold-blond at the crown of my head). Funnily enough, not the reason I started dying my hair obscene colors but sort of the reason why I have to maintain it. I get asked 'is that your natural color' a whole lot less often now.
- Maintain a personal best of having 30 places to call home, in the span of a year. I was 16. (The only list I carry more pride in than my 'Wife' list.)
- People, being given as 'Presents' (Ex. Rachel to me on X-mas. Myself to Bex & Allie on b-day. Etc.)
- High-Pain Thresholds
(along with access to sealed needles and sterile ink).- Story-Tellers; of every background, name, shape and size.
- Art Stuffs (the divining rod in my life)*
- Not blood, but family... and the distance they keep.
I first spoke with Rebecca Mello in the fall of 1998 through a variety of friends made on the Message Boards at Garbage.Com. She stood out then for the same reason she stands out to me now; she was a voice of reason when the crazy came a'courtin. Although I wouldn't meet her face-to-face for another year and a half there wasn't a day that went by where she wasn't somehow a touchstone of calm for me. It's been 10 years and that hasn't changed. We'd go months without speaking and then suddenly have daily phone-calls that lasted till one or the both of us passed out. Becca was eclectic and passionate, soft-spoken and always surprising. She was subtle and musical, artistic and very wise for her years. She was a Sage in Powerpuff Girl packaging ("Buttercup" she'd specifically say)... meaning that she was tiny but heroic and life gave her enough adversities to prove the comparison true. I never understood how people could walk along their daily lives and miss what a force she was. She was terminally modest, quick to forgive and so very slow to anger... that used to drive me nuts! |  |
 | We complimented each other well despite being seemingly opposites. I taught her to speak out and she taught me to calm down. Through knowing one another we discovered wondrous things about ourselves...and found a world between us that made more sense than apart. When I tell stories, as I often do, she's always a part of them ... Hell, I wouldn't have had the voice to tell stories without her. She's a governing force in my life... and what I miss most is not having her on my next adventure, to read my next comic, to draw strength and inspiration from or to illicit tearful laughs from. She was much more than a friend, she was my favorite person... I'm proud to have loved her, prouder still to have been loved by her. If anyone thinks something as common place as Death is going to stop that, now... than they've underestimated her yet again. The silly bitches. |
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