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2002-01-12, 3:04 p.m. : Yager's funeral

I just ended up in a funeral procession.

See, I was going to "go shopping" in Parsons. Meaning, of course, that I was also going to go to Pittsburg... but that's neither here nor there, because he was gone. So was his aunt. I didn't know where he'd gone. I don't know if he does... >.<

So I was coming back to Parsons, and I was going to actually go shopping or watch a movie or something, and just as I got into town, everybody started pulling over. There were cop cars and a really long line of cars... and after a moment, I realized it was a funeral. After another moment, I remembered that Yager was going to be buried in Parsons.

I started looking at drivers' faces. And saw Shawn.

So once the line had passed, I joined it. And went to the cemetary. And gave many hugs to people. And cried.

Especially at Wolfie's speech. It was very sad.

Then we went to the restaurant and distracted ourselves.

There was a gummy bear war. With catapults. It was pretty funny. Ace stuck wet gummy bears on two people's faces.

But then at about 2, everybody had to leave. Including me, although I was really the last person... of the household, anyway. Actual blood relations might have stuck around a bit longer. I don't know any of them, though, so I wouldn't know.

However, tomorrow there's going to be an "Everybody's Favorite Yager Moment" movie-making at the club, so that they can give it to Yager's mom. I've been invited to that.

And since the club's going to be closed at the time, LaDonna said I'm old enough. :)

See, there's that whole thing about how you have to be eighteen to enter a strip club, and 21 (of course) to drink... but oh well. :)

And then I get to go to Buster's (Wolfie's) for probable food and a chance to gain familiarity with the "Amber" system.

It's too late for me to join this campaign, of course. That's just the way Amber works. I don't mind. I'd rather not be thrown in the deep end. I have a feeling I will be anyway........

I've got to go to work again fairly soon. Ah well. Maybe if I wear different shoes, I won't feel as though my feet have broken...


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