Crossing the line
The great divide has been crossed – K turned 21 today. You think about these things like a thirty year difference and you know that they really don’t matter in the end – only if the participants are able to truly believe in what they are doing. Right now the jury is definitely out on L, but K leaves soon and we’ll see if that doesn’t present a more compelling story. Meanwhile, at Brigtsens last night the food was good but not great – his signature dish, the rabbit, was dry and even the duck was dry. No one really liked the bisque – said it tasted like roux. Of course, S and I were comparing it to our fabulous last meal at August and there is no comparison because they are different types of food. The service was a little spotty, which was truly unusual and if P hadn’t been there to throw in some overseeing, it would have been not good. I walked in back and P said “is that L’s date?” and I smiled. Then somewhere in the middle of it all I was at the table with S, L and K talking about her birthday and smiling at P as she walked by and then this other waitress who I had met before when I went with F earlier this year at the ad conference – who is really cute – her name is S – came by and smiled – and I had a convergence of ten years ago when I was working there and F had developed his issues due to R having his ear, and somewhere hovering in the present crept in the knowledge that the house is delayed yet again because of a bunch of hillbillies, and then out of the clear blue I felt the pang that almost made me double over and as it is wont to do – I couldn’t shake it. It is a visceral longing that makes me want to just ball up like W does and lay on the floor for a meltdown. I went to sleep with it and woke up with it and I wonder if this is ever going to find a remedy or if what ails me must be approached piece meal till the end of days.
Spacey all day and so I have noticed a pattern whereby too much excess tips me off center and that is when the pang is at its worse because the whole ingredient list just starts swirling around and doesn’t present itself cogently into any form that is recognizably comfortable or reasonable – instead everything seems just within grasp but not quite there.
I had a nightmare last night over the most inane stupidest thing – I know it sort of reaches back to the other night in the courtyard when N said “I hate your hair like that” but my dream was I cut it all off and died it blonde and walked in and N looked at me in horror and then I looked in the mirror and had not realized D had cut it so short – like MG in that movie that S said reminded me of when he met me, the short hair and big earrings – but I screamed when I saw my reflection. What goes on? Has my life gotten so superficial that the thought of cutting my hair gives me nightmares?
It all can be traced to pure and utter burn out – I’m fighting for time off right now as September looks to be a gnarly in terms of reports but each vacation day never really takes hold – F said I saw you on email on your day off, you are addicted – I said yes, I am addicted and overwhelmed and I can’t seem to get centered. Again cannot be swept away within the terms “bizarre context” – it all just hovers in the ether trying to find some place to land.
S is in town with M and R and we hope to go see them tomorrow.
Had a short conversation with J&P today – it’s P’s birthday. Weird distance between us. They fly around and visit the brood willy nilly but never seemed to have time to drive only an hour and a half to see us – of course, there is no compelling reason to – S and I don’t offer them immortality like the others. But we plan a visit there in Dec and both of their responses were “if we’re here, we’ll see you” – S has no compunction to try to figure this out and chalks it up to the way his family is – weird – and I certainly am not going to broach what is clearly some weird chip on their shoulder – I mean P called EHDD to discuss the Yolo project rather than call his own son – clearly there are issues but as Rev B said, it’s not my place to negotiate with S’s family. So I stay out of it and deal with my own tribe that conjure up enough for me to deal with regularly.
Lunch with Mom yesterday – I asked a simple question “how’s S” – Turn around! she said, turn around and look at me now – so I did – and she mouthed “he got fired” and I shook my head in disbelief because I keep wondering how S got on this downward spiral and where the bottom is. It scares the hell out of Mom – she has always worried that S has suicidal tendencies when I’ve always worried she has homicidal ones.
E’s mother MiMi died and he left a photo of her in her younger years tucked into the NYT on L’s door mat. An inscription was written in E’s handwriting in back, which read “L, thanks for being such a good friend to E, I appreciated it, love MiMi”. L said she died on Friday, he went over on Saturday and when E answered the door his eyes were swollen and red from twist and grief. L asked if he should come to the funeral and E said, “No L, you are ancillary to her circle, but I appreciate your offer.” L thinks he twisted it around when he told N.