You know it.
Wwwweeell, Annabeth and Percy kind of sort of fell into Tartarus.
This is their battle to get out and close the Doors of Death while the team up top tries to find them and close it from the other side. As naturally, it has to be a team effort.
Now, this book was brilliant in that it involves Nico di Angelo more, someone from the original series who has been in and out of our lives, he knew about both camps and kept it to himself for the safety of everyone, he can raise the dead, he can shadow travel, he can command hellhounds.
And the kid is just plain old cool to me.
He’s been one of my favourite characters since we met him early on where he was obsessed with a card game called Mythomagic. He was bouncy and exuberant but as he grew so did his darkness.
Nico was hiding many secrets, not the one where he was trapped in a time warping casino since the 40s, but the one where he wasn’t in love with Annabeth, but he was in love with Percy.
This is the first gay character I’ve read in a teen series! (As far as I’m aware.)
And the best part of it is that while Nico is ashamed and scared to reveal this about himself because he was born in a time where it was seen as a bad and shameful thing, when he DOES tell someone about it, they act like a person should and treat him with respect and kindness and show that it really isn’t a big deal, they are still themselves and just because you like someone of the same sex doesn’t mean you are a freak or any less a member of the team.
You still matter.
Rick Riordan is so good at writing and including everyone without making it seem forced or like he has an agenda, because I don’t think he does. He’s just writing about PEOPLE being people.
I love these books. I’m so happy.
First off, thank you every one for your kind words. And secondly:
Now I’m going to make you cry. Here is how I was trying to work through what was about to happen to my beloved bunny. Some people won’t care, some people will, I was just trying to work out my own feelings on things.
Tuesday, Sept. 22nd:
I’m sitting here hours before I make what will probably be one of the worst phone call I’ll ever have to make in my life.
My soul mate and friend, Doomsday, is heading into the final moments of her life and I can’t even have her understand what is happening.
For the past couple of months we have been struggling to keep her afloat.
She has had cysts on her belly which have spread throughout the last few years, she has had a tumour on her leg that we have removed a few years ago, we dealt with the burn mark on her leg that the vet in Vancouver gave her when trying to keep her warm during that surgery. Now we are looking down the barrel of the gun with some sort of bacterial infection in her eyes, severe weight loss, and now, the final nail in her coffin, she isn’t using her legs right.
Ever been in the mood to not lift your own body? That’s her constant state. She sits and stares at the wall in one spot, no longer even laying down.
The other night I took her out of her cage in the hopes that she would run around or do something, even just sniff me. But what happened was she refused to leave her home, I had to push her into her bed to even get her to move and I lifted her out that way.
When I did that she fell face forward into it and that’s when I knew she was finally changing her address to Heaven.
Normally she would stomp her foot at me, turn around and nudge me like “Hey! Stop that!”
But she just fell over. And I’ve been witnessing things like this over the last week that don’t look good.
Hell, even my mom started crying at this news. And my mom has wanted the “stench” of her out of the house since I got her. (I’ve never noticed until this last month, that’s how bad her bowels were.)
Even my father, who professionally processes, sells, and has a marked dislike of rabbits checked on her this weekend and asked me how she was doing.
Of course, I was away and he was terrified that she would die on his watch and I would Khaleesi him with a couple of dragons.
That’s how fiercely I love her, my parents are worried about me.
And all I can think is how this will be a relief.
Not for me, but for her. Well, I suppose for me a bit, now I won’t have to wait, wonder, and worry.
I made the call. And I cried right through it. I hate when people hear, see, or acknowledge that I’m crying. The vet was very calm and told me my options. Said she was so sorry to hear this news and that they would be there for me.
And then asked me if I wanted to do it today. Which, obviously made me burst into tears. She goes tomorrow around the same time. Changing her address to Heaven.
I’m so heartbroken, I can’t even process this.
No longer will I hear her at night drinking her water like a nuisance, no longer will she trip me while I’m trying to clean my room. No longer will she glare at me when I snuggle her too closely or push her fur the wrong way.
After all these years it’s going to be so hard to say goodbye to the little love of my life who has been with me for almost 8 years.
We’ve grown so much together. She would sit on me when I studied or read, she would do figure eights around my ankles and nuzzle me like there’s no tomorrow.
We would open Christmas presents together, and watch Supernatural, she would hide in my closet, my bookshelf, under the bed, anywhere that was safe and she could run out and scare the daylights out of me.
She would lick me when she was happy, jump 3 feet in the air when she was ecstatic, snuggle into my neck on cold nights, and right into my sweater on freezing nights.
She’s been my little cuckoo and moved with me across the country and back, we’ve ruined 5 apartments together because she loves to chew the woodwork.
We put out Christmas cards for the last three or four years and she tolerated me sticking her in a box, putting her in a scarf, and in generally holding her at the right angles so we could get the perfect pictures all to show that family don’t end with blood.
But now it’s time to let all that go and let her go out with some dignity.
I won’t prop her up just so I don’t have to say goodbye and selfishly keep her around for myself.
I will do her one last solid and care for her until the very end.
She’s going now. I hope you wish her all a very fond farewell.
More next week while I process this grief and keep moving forward.
With Annabeth and Percy reunited, the gang on the Argo II is set to go back to the Roman camp and bring together the Greek and the Romans in peace after millennia’s of rivalry.
Unfortunately chaos ensues and they are forced to run.
They set out on a quest to follow the Mark of Athena that Annabeth carries and to shut the Doors of Death so that their enemies stop resurfacing.
I love Annabeth and Percy together, they balance and feel like a real, healthy couple. (Unlike the likes of stalkery Twilight.)
The best part of this series is that, although there are couples and these are written for teens, that the love stories aren’t the main focus. They advance the story in certain ways, they show bonds, but mostly it’s about teamwork, friendship, and caring for one another.
It’s not all solely focused on people falling in love, declaring it, and then everything goes to Hell in a handbasket and every one is all angsty and poo poo heads.
I realize that was really immature.
Riordan writes real people dealing with unreal situations and manages to pull it off in a wonderful way that not just teens can relate to.
Love this series.
As you know, I took a couple of months to myself to get sorted in my own head, heart, and soul.
Mostly what I realized was that while taking a break from writing on here made me even more crazy. I didn’t have that outlet of even short bursts of writing to relieve myself of my feelings or emotions or thoughts about feelings or emotions. I didn’t have enough time to sit and write like I wanted to and I found myself crying when Daryl cried or crying because the dad was left behind on a smouldering lava filling island while he threw his family to safety in The Croods.
I had problems.
The biggest relief was having the kids back to school, that took so much pressure off of me and I feel like I can actually breathe again. Which sounds terrible because I love my cousins and I loved having them around all day!
But I have this insane need to be perfect sometimes. (Which is absurd when you consider how much I swear, eat, or walk around in uncoordinated outfits.)
And that put even more pressure on me when these kids were around. I had to be perfect for them because any sign of me breaking one of my own rules, or their parents rules, and it was like a can of “Ah ha! You do it too! We don’t have to do it anymore!” was opened and all hell would break loose.
Hell, even if I just do something a little differently from their parents they are up my ass.
It got stressful some days.
Add on all that extra summer fun and life stuff and naturally, I needed time to myself.
Which led me to the hardest decision of my life.
To meet Rupert at Fan Expo, or not?
Now, you’ve likely heard me express my love for him, I’ve had a celeb crush on him since I was 12. Which was scandalous because he was 10 or 11. Here’s my account the day I made this decision:
“At the time of writing this I have one hour until the decision is made for me on whether to meet Rupert Grint or not.
I have already texted my sister that I don’t want to go to FanExpo because of several things. Mainly money.
Last year was a fantastic weekend of meeting heroes and seeing artwork and generally being stuff into a herd of people that smelled and rubbed their smells on you and being dehydrated and hungry and tired of the human race after three days of this.
But I met Arthur Darvill, Nathan Fillion, Matt Smith, and Stan Lee. I got to see the cast of the Walking Dead do a panel, along with Matt and Arthur separately.
And this year you would think I would be the first person signed up because the Phelps twins are there. AKA: The Weasley Twins.
I would get to meet them, I would meet Tom Felton because my little sister has been crushing on him since she was a kid, and then I would meet the penultimate of my fandom dreams, the guy I’ve been mooning over for years.
Since I was 13 years old.
Rupert Grint may not be the worlds biggest or even remotely diva-type star, he’s seemingly remained down to earth and polite, generally thought of as the coolest of the kids to come out of the Harry Potter franchise.
And I’m absolutely petrified to meet him because I’ve already met so many of my on screen boyfriends and they all turned out to be wonderful human beings.
What if I meet Rupert and it’s as disappointing as Stan Lee was?
3 seconds, no conversation, and little kids took away from the experience because they don’t know when it’s time to move on?
I know what you’re all thinking “What if it’s something you’ll regret not doing for the rest of your life?”
Well, let’s be real here. I definitely will regret this decision of not going because I love them all so much and I don’t like to do things out of fear of being disappointed or because there are so many ‘What ifs’ attached that I could drown in them.
I will regret it as far as I didn’t get to meet them. But I won’t regret missing the hours of sitting in line for 10 seconds and a picture, I won’t regret missing out on the different arrays of peoples B.O.s. I won’t regret that I’ll be spending this money on a much needed day of pampering.
I need my nails done and a super human strength massage this week. I need that night away by myself. I need to be pampered and relax and drink wine in silence.
I haven’t had time off in a little while and I’m worn a little thin lately. I need to be AWAY from people, not thrown directly into their throngs.
I need to take care of myself this week and that’s okay.
That’s perfectly wonderful really.
There will be other chances to meet these people. And if not? Well then, whoops.”
As you can see it was a tough decision and I’m basically talking myself into it.
And for the record, yes, I regret not meeting them, but I don’t regret that I took the time to be alone because I needed that more.
Keep moving forward, take care of yourself, and pray to the Fan Expo Gods that they will come back next year.