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Jun. 10th, 2001 07:28 pmSomewhere in me is an essay comparing the lives of Rep. Joseph Moakley and Joey Ramone, but I am way too tired. I gathered some last minute stuff for the trip. Would have done that (and Pride) yesterday, but guess what! Inspection, need to clean out the house out! Thanks for telling me that now, Mom. I love living in public housing. No, really. Anyway, my room at least looks better, after bravely throwing out massive amounts of my sisters' homework (I kept the letters. She might want them). I am packed, too.
The day before yesterday, I saw Arik for one last time. It was bittersweet, fortunately more emphasis on sweet. I gave him strawberries, listened to pop music, kissed, and talked about the most random things. "Will we still like each other after you come home?" I don't know. It's wrong, but it feels good to be with him, even when I have other people I am interested in. It would be fun to get Mashuko and Sivan into a house near my work. Or not. I have fantasies of being part of a big happy hetreogenous group, like my family on its good days, but without the screaming fights, the abusive husbands, or the mess, poverty, and collective alienation, but really, how often does it happen? That's why I am not running to a rabbi just yet--maybe what I want is different at 24 than what I want at 35.
Angus and Jolene took me out to dinner, and we talked about what to look forward to in California. I haven't posted to a mailing list we met on for years, and as Angus tells it, it is more dominated by dick-wagging political fights as time goes on. I mean, off line, it is all laughes, but sooner or later, you're going to really sour the atmosphere between each other. The massive amount of insult and flame is not healthy.
I need a new CD player, which stinks, because I bought new Coil, George Clinton, and Siouxsie CDs. I hope to go to San Francisco, Redwood City, and San Rafael, since parts of my novel are set there. Becca, Sam, Forrest, Jason, and even the man that murdered Forest need places to set up roots.
The day before yesterday, I saw Arik for one last time. It was bittersweet, fortunately more emphasis on sweet. I gave him strawberries, listened to pop music, kissed, and talked about the most random things. "Will we still like each other after you come home?" I don't know. It's wrong, but it feels good to be with him, even when I have other people I am interested in. It would be fun to get Mashuko and Sivan into a house near my work. Or not. I have fantasies of being part of a big happy hetreogenous group, like my family on its good days, but without the screaming fights, the abusive husbands, or the mess, poverty, and collective alienation, but really, how often does it happen? That's why I am not running to a rabbi just yet--maybe what I want is different at 24 than what I want at 35.
Angus and Jolene took me out to dinner, and we talked about what to look forward to in California. I haven't posted to a mailing list we met on for years, and as Angus tells it, it is more dominated by dick-wagging political fights as time goes on. I mean, off line, it is all laughes, but sooner or later, you're going to really sour the atmosphere between each other. The massive amount of insult and flame is not healthy.
I need a new CD player, which stinks, because I bought new Coil, George Clinton, and Siouxsie CDs. I hope to go to San Francisco, Redwood City, and San Rafael, since parts of my novel are set there. Becca, Sam, Forrest, Jason, and even the man that murdered Forest need places to set up roots.
