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2002-06-03 - 3:43 p.m.
my parents are reading a book called "Europe Through the Back Door." I chuckle every time i see it.
i like to start off with subjects that i have no intention of talking about and just as the reader gets comfortable i like to ambush them with my real agenda. i recognize that most people resent this but i'm never really prepared to discuss anything. so if i come in out of nowhere i can more easily shroud my own lack of preparation with the shock and terror of reflected confusion.
so on friday night i came home with a box of hairdye, a brand new chartreuse eyepencil and a six pack of hard cider (yes, i am a girl). it had been an unusually draining 4 day week and i was ready for some beautification/rejuvination. this is when i learned that my aunt had died earlier that morning. i never knew her particularly well but was still saddened by the loss. my father was devastated. he cried. i have seen my father cry three times in my life: 1. when his mother died. 2. when he found out i was having sex. 3. friday. because it has always been my role, it was up to me to mediate/translate the ensuing conversation between my parents. it's not necessary to go into the gory details but sufficient to say that it takes a long time and a great deal of energy. they don't communicate well. because we were all talking about our feelings i decided to drink more and tell my mom all about my feelings (great idea!!). tension has been building between us for weeks. i suppose it was necessary and healthy and all that rot. i went to bed exhausted at 11pm, listened to my parents talk outside my bedroom until one-thirty and woke up at 6 on saturday. i spent a total of 6 hours in two different cafes grading essays. between sporadic bursts of profanity directed at the literacy level of my students i was highly productive, not to mention caffeinated. saturday night i met up with adam and spent a long uncomfortable car ride with him up to SF in which we had one brief and unproductive conversation about my inability to be punctual...EVER. i suppose i should have been a bit more forthcoming about my state of mind, as i still cannot justify my actions or my (in)abilities to communicate. i see adam just enough to sort of tell him what's going on but not frequently enough to be real about it. this is where it would be useful to be able to wire our heads together and up/download thoughts...useful for when i don't know how to say things like "i'm sorry." we arrived in the city and by some miracle of fate pulled up right next to andie and her van full of hipsters...just in time to start the festivities. i sat on the floor of the warehouse/art space and just sort of floated. i wanted to say to people "Tonight I am like an Onion" but it was much too loud for me to adequately give the follow-up explanation. I had layers to work through. I needed time. I still do. I know this is tiring/frustrating/irritating to other people around me who are trying to include me and draw me out. I appreciate everyone's patience. sometimes i need to float. to be there, with no judgments or explanations. and most of all i need hands to hold, hugs and shoulders to lean on...just for a time. and i got all of that on saturday, with the added bonus of watching people i adore and admire dance their sweet booties off in the endless flashing of a moment. sunday brought the pleasure of eating loads of yummy thai food with laura and her friend sparx. lately, laura is one of my very favorite people to talk to. i am guaranteed a laugh, a question and a challenge with each interaction. plus she doesn't charge me by the hour for her advice...yet. we all had fun, food, and conversation and i didn't (do i ever?) want it to end. luckily on the ride home adam and i got to continue the conversation. i will always take great interest and delight in seeing the paths he chooses to take, they are always good ones. arriving home was a bit heavy, i tried to avoid my mother but she caught me anyway and had to watch me cry about my upcoming week, it seems to be a sunday night ritual now. it's no wonder she tells me not to get my clothes dirty when i go out. i suppose that, to the world, i appear to be a child. despite this, i am offended by the scores of condescending advice i receive from my parents, as well as my friends. in the last week and a half i have received: "don't get your skirt dirty if you're going to wear it tomorrow," "don't drink too much," "careful! you'll get drunk," "work is hard for everybody," and "oh! you won't be coming HOME tonight?!" guess it could be worse. ok, folks, this is my long, intricate and disorganized rant for the day. i don't expect to write another for a long time.