ardent bullshit comes down every faultline gushing heavily into jest kindly luscious melons nodding openly post quakes resting still to undermind various wonderous xylophones yawning zealously

Thursday, December 27, 2007

My Eyelashes are Bouncy


Today I got back to Boston to find an apartment ravaged by kittly cats. It's pick-up-able but still was a pain in the ass. George & Henry were not happy about an owner's-week break from ## XXXXXX St. It was their way of saying 'fuck you, I'm gonna mess stuff up to piss you off without breaking anything so valuable that you'd be really angry with me'.

The break was nice but hectic. No! And I didn't see nearly as many people I wanted to see. And certainly didn't get even close to enough time to rub Schmale's belly & tell it how beautiful & wonderful it is. Maybe that little, wonderful being got some of it.

Really, when you live away from where you grew up it's almost better to come in for like 3 days around Christmas & then a whole week in January. I saw way too many people in such a hurried way, attempting (successfully) to have people visit while I ran errands & enjoy each other's presence all in one. Big ups to Veldt for hanging out at NM to pay a bill & find a present for Schmale.

But anyways, I now have a functioning camera so some pictures of Boston shall appear soon. Promise to maxx.

That will come. And this isn't very funny. But I got an awesome funny, sweet, wonderful present from Daddy that I can't even digest yet and when I started to, well, I cried.

Okay, okay....Daddy picked out a spoken version of Vonnegut short stories with the introduction & conclusion written & spoken by Kurt himself. I've seen him (Mr. Vonnegut) in interviews but it was while driving north on I-55 from Dad's to Mom's that I focused on his voice. He sounds very much like my maternal grandfather. Who, like Vonnegut, had a liking towards the booze & unfiltered cigarettes. Maybe that's it. Maybe it's that they both spent their childhoods in the midwest. Maybe it's how they tell stories about their lives. But I teared up & laughed & know that I'll be listening to that as a bedtime story for a while.

But anyway, there's a tiger-striped kitty who wants my attention now, so I'm going to pet & kiss him.

Happy Holidays and lots of love & hugs & kisses,
Emily

Labels:

Wednesday, December 12, 2007


My dearest Jaimie,

The crying days are yet again on wee Emmy poo. Stress stress stress. Feeling unloved by Ethan who continues with empty promises & my frustration builds. He just doesn't get that sending music to a girl at home he once had an interest in leaves me lost & feeling helpless. He also doesn't get that 'when was the last time that you actually sat down & planned out something that I'd like to do without my prior
pleading' isn't a threat, it's a realization on my part. But I'm deflated even thinking about that.

I've begun reading The Mating Mind. I'm 4 pages in (you know how I read....the author wouldn't have put every word in this had he/she/she/he/it not intended me to read & internalize every one of them) & have one deep question to ask that I'd been pondering yet unable to verbalize before. Certainly the bus folk think me crazy
after seeing that '!' above my head & look of 'got it' this morning.

I regress. Christmas trees remain a favorite of mine. I love sleeping under them at least once during this 'magical' season. Despite a nameless person's attempts to tell me that I'm going to hell for living with someone before marriage (no, really, I have the email to prove it) & sending me these anti-happy holidays, pro-merry christmas (uh, doodz, no one's asking you to not say merry christmas, however
they're GOVERMENT buildings & that's ONE OF THE ISSUES THAT OUR COUNTRY WAS BUILT ON....even though the peoples of this are were kicked out of England because, well, they were crazy fundamentalists...whatever) emails I still wanted one of those terrible, plastic trees to put lights on.

I regress further... So I decided that I wasn't going to get a wee tree because I wouldn't be around to enjoy it (looks like NYC is le plano for the weekend!!!) & Ethan was like 'well get a tree because you like it'. Buzz. Wrong answer. 'Honey, I want you to be happy & let's do this together'=right answer. I can most do this shit on my own if I want & I know it's a little callous but, um, why are we together if I'm doing all of the shiz myself? No, Ethan, doing dishes doesn't count. That's one of those 'things you do' with or without a roommate.

So further down. I decided that goddamn it, I'm getting a tree. Target was out of all but big trees. No no no. I want a leeedle tree for fear that mighty George & Henry would crash a 6 footer down to the ground at 3 a.m. causing quite a stir. So determination came over me. Over to Linens & Things. Nothing. Not even some dumb
stocking that I could glue glitter to a la 3rd grade. Home Depot. I asked a man in an orange smock if he could help. Only big trees other than this crappy 'entry way' tree. So I decided that this is the year. A real tree it will be. There were hundreds, maybe even more than a thousand aromatic firs of all sorts. Although it goes against what I believe (fuck what I believe, let's shake this up), I thought
maybe, waking up to the smell of balsum fir & then shouting to the kittly cats (yes, it is official that an el is now in 'kitty' after a drunk email from last year) to stop eating the needles & stay the hell away from the porcelain ornaments would bring one miss me happiness during this time of distress & frustration. And oh, to sleep under one of those is just heaven.

me: 'Um, excuse me sir, where are the leeedle trees?'

tree dude at home depot: 'Uh, we might have some left but I think we cleared out of those pretty quick but let's see'

Hopes up.

No avail. Cue sad Charlie Brown music.

tree dude: 'But miss, we can cut any tree down to the size that you want' Cue happy dancing Charlie Brown music.

me (via telephone call of course): 'Ethan, we're getting a tree'

ethan: 'uh okay'

me: 'alright, i want it 4 feet' (still on the phone with ethan on the other line) 'ethan, do we have a tree stand?'

tree dude: 'well, these trees are frozen so it'll be tomorrow'

me: 'ethan, don't check. party's over, god doesn't want us to have a tree' (no, i was not overreacting at all)

tree dude: 'but you could have it tomorrow & decorate it on friday'

me: 'i'm sorry, i can't pick it up tomorrow & really wanted to decorate one tonight. kthanxbye.

So I walked (stomped) back to the bookmobile and sat there & cried. And cried and cried and cried. It felt so good. And of course awful. But more good. I tried calling Katie for some sort of sympathy or a when you get home we'll have superlotsoffun but no answer. And at first I got that familiar feeling that she doesn't have time for me anymore unless it's convenient. A feeling I get at home a lot, too.

And then I remembered that I wanted a tree goddamnit, so I was going to get one of those crappy 'entryway' trees. And I was going to make it work. And make it pretty. And I am going to sleep under it and wiped my eyes clean so that it just looked like I went out to my car to get stoned instead of crying and marched back into the store. I picked up one of those leeedle crappy trees with some sort of faux
potting bases & went right up to the cashier & said 'how much for this tree'? He looked at me like 'um lady, wtf?' and then explained his look with 'uh, I helped you find this tree before'. In an effort to recollect myself (which reinforced a possible stoner on their hands) I said 'yes, oh, sorry'.

He was polite & smiled at me. Thankfully, he didn't ask who my dealer is because I have no clue as to how to find anything out here & would have had to fess up to sitting & crying in my car for 5 minutes in a fit of frustration.

So now I have it. A sad little tree that I'm going to love & sleep under with each cat nestling in their respective 'called' spots (Georgie, the sentinal, at my feet & Henry, the fat cuddler, under my arm). I stopped by the grocery on my way home to get cat food & a wine & felt like myself again. You know, I'm happy to be me, cat food buying, white wine in the winter drinking, Army of Me in my heading, determined me. But not militantly or anything. Like 'hey, that's okay'ish but if I want something to happen, I'm not waiting around for anyone. I don't know if it's Ethan or it's me at this point. I've gotten so caught up & frustrated that my actions bother me, which is kinda that threshold. Earlier today a blog dude posted about change & growing too big for your shell. Maybe that's it again. If it is, it'll happen. And part of that is anger & frustration from feeling enclosed & suffocated. And if it's not, well, then I guess it's not.

And there's a leeedle lighted tree that needs some ubercheesy ornaments & a wine to drink with Ethan. And a tomorrow that may or may not bring light to a situation that I'm confused about. Hopefully a trip down to New York to see my cousin will give me at least a little time to sort things out. I certainly know that I can't keep on with someone who tells me that 'i don't really feel like that' & nothing changes until my once calm requests turn into a screaming demand. And part of me feels very much like I need to be let go again. I'm not going to be the person who he's made up in his mind. But on the other hand, there is a point in having gone through such a change with someone & wisdom would dictate letting the dust settle
before making any rash decisions (although I've asked him to leave like 45 times) and maybe he's just a bit effed up too. Question: is he Stacy from Wayne's World? Only time will tell. And in the meantime, there's a lot of kittly cuddling under a tree.

I really appreciate that I can write these things to you. Therapy is once again on its way. Just have to wait about a month to get in to a doctor. Comeonyoga!

Miss you to bittles. So do the kittlies. They said so.

Hugs & kisses & lots of love to you,
le emmy poop.

Labels: