None of This Means Anything
I said I wasn't going to write when I was at home. I said I was going to take some me time and just screw off and make Christmas cards the whole damn time like a good little elf. I said I would't come near this computer because damn it hurts my eyes... and goddam my eyes are hurting but here I am anyway, it's only monday and I still have five days 'till I go to Belize. I've all Christmas carded myself out. I made three today and I'll probably make more tomorrow. Then comes the hard part... actually writing in them. I can never decide who to send what to, I love them all too much. Sigh.

It's not that, I'm not bored; that's not why I'm here. I'm here even though I'm tired but because I have the urge to write. Because something about being here splits me wide open. But first, I have a bit of news to share:

Oh, oh, who got two As and an A+??? OH, it was MEEEEEEEE. (and a "pass", too... yay scuba) And you know what? That A+ was in my god awful reporting class even. AAAHHAHAAAHA!! I f*ckin' PWNED that class. Don't you love A plusses? How they give you more than a 4.0? (A 4.09, to be exact) It's lovely that I've had three of them now, so my grade point average is a 3.90 even though I've had two B minuses. I'm sorry, I'm just thrilled that I got through this term on top of it all, after it kicked my ass so bad.

And in other news, I finally got some pics of all the micro people deep throating bananas. Being that this all took place sometime in June, these are WAY past due. Unfortunately, I'm in a location where I don't have the capability to edit them or put them on my server, so you'll just have to deal with some of them being sideways. So here's the story:

Innocent barbecue, not-so-innocent friends. Ha, ha, let's deepthroat a banana. Let's take pictures of people making fools of themselves. Let's make it a CONTEST.

(NOTE POST-DATE: You know, now that I'm looking at these pictures on a not-broken monitor I realize how embarrasing they are. OH MY GOD. I couldn't even see Justin leering in the background before. But now.... I'll just go hide in shame.)

Rachel and Micah go first. So far, they and I are the only contestants. AHA! An easy victory. Not even trying here...

But then, Brad and (not sure who the bald guy is... Leo?) decide to get their manly groove on. And goddam, they kicked my ass. Not one to be showed up, I went back into the running... and made a name for myself in infamy with this picture. Needless to say I took the victory.

There's not much of that banana (yes, the same one Brad's holding) outside of my mouth- not that it even compares to Heather from ideepthroat.com. Thank god for suppressing the gag reflex. I was worshipped like a goddess by some men that night. Heh heh.

Anyway, there's a bit of summer nostalgia to take the chill off the long, dark winter night.

In reality, I can't stand being here. Day one and I want to go home. I live such a quiet life now. Reading and cooking, having sex and playing with the cat. Going out on Sundays and sometimes watching movies. Quiet music and quiet conversation. Here's it's the opposite of that. Everything's always in motion a million different directions, even during the times it should be quiet and studious. Here it's always demands with no focus. Here there's no me time. It's being pulled to bits.

It's always loud; it's always tense; there's always argument. Being here makes me sad in a way that should make me happy. I should like being with my family. But, like I said after coming back from Thanksgiving, I like my sisters and I like my parents-- just not together. When I'm here I look at my family and it raises all those old "what ifs" and "how comes" about my life that I fear I'm becoming.

What if I end up like this? How come I can't be happy? Where will I be if I make the wrong choice?

and the infamous...

Oh dear god, I'm becoming my mother...

Even when I'm alone-- which I am during the day all this week-- the silence is like being raked over coals. There's nothing for me here but empty memories and some kind of sickening sadness that makes me listless and immobile at once.

I feel trapped.

These little things here, that were a part of my life before I got it all together, they keep crawling back to me... questions about my place, my worth, my value. And love, always love. That blasted thing that I can never be too sure about. It's always about choices. It's always about parallel universes. It's always about infinite possibilities. I'm being haunted by my life in this goddam house and I don't know if I can deal.

It's not that it was bad while I was here. The truth is, it was DAMN BAD sometimes. But other times it was just living...good and warm and happy and sad and up and down. All the things that go with life in an odd place in an odd time. It was intense.

The problem is It still is intense here, even though I've left it all behind. With three children in early to late adolesence and two parents in malcontent life states, this house has yet to see a "happy" family. I love them all, I do. I just can't handle the sheer volume and chaotic energy. It rubs me raw to the edges.

And it's not just that. It's everything else that's here. It's something that makes me a bit insane and draws me back away from all of them, spitting and snarling. I'm not sure what it is. Something like a bad dream. Like when you wake in the middle of the night and you feel all alone even though you're in a house full of people. Like when you're so displaced you're looking at your life-- all of it, past and present-- from the third person.

Imagine your life as a run-on sentence.

It's wanting to scream, GOD WHY DON'T YOU ALL JUST SHUT THE HELL UP AND CALM DOWN??! as if you have any right to change the volume level of the house by raising your voice or telling anyone what to do because you don't live here but you're still expected to take the shit. But no one ever listens anyway because they're all bickering or watching TV and no one has time for you but they all want it for themselves. And then when you're silent and you withdraw into that cave of introversion you found here so many years ago they wonder how you're happy and healthy and make good grades and have any friends.

It's memories. It's walking into the living room during a Dawson's Creek commercial and feeling like you've gotten slapped in the face. And when your dad says "God, is this show still on?" You say, "oh, it's a rerun" but in your head that "rerun" is screaming its way through your consciousness and you have to hold yourself back from yelling, ON?!? Is it still ON?!?? LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING... But you know that your parents don't care about what's in your heart or your head and they never did and that's why it's so damn hard. It's impossible to be a person when everything's repressed and pared down to the barest bones of existence; when you're crying and competing for attention and screaming silently at the top of your lungs along with everyone else. And that's when everything falls apart because it's all drama and no reason and then things go horribly, inextricably WRONG. Oh, and this show is your life. Because those fucking soul-wrenching dreams don't let you alone ONE NIGHT here, ohhh no, because you're at your wits end and you don't really know or care any more but somehow this place has a way of making you crazy.

Or maybe it's just midnight and you're alone in the living room next to the Christmas tree in your pajamas, typing in the dark. It isn't the first time; it won't be the last time. But something's different now. You're all grown up. You're at the steering wheel of your own life. You control those wild urges to rip it all down when things don't go your way. You repress those unbounded dreams. You shut away that screaming voice. You tell yourself you're saving it for someone who will finally listen.

But you know, you KNOW.

Liar! You tell yourself stop it, because you just think you feel that way, that you're just talking yourself into it because you're a dreamer and a malcontent idealist. And if you wait long enough, those voices will go away.

The echoes will go away.

Then you laugh at yourself even more.

And you think, Maybe my life's just a commercial and I'm waiting in the wings for my turn to go on stage. Maybe all this background and foreshadowing, family and flashbacks amount to nothing. None of this means anything. Maybe tomorrow it's all gonna change and you just don't know what's coming. Maybe you're waiting at the threshold.

Midnight is a doorway. You open it.

*******************************
My, that was intense.

Away to dreams.

My fish is still alive.