Cary I

Cary
Have you the least idea how much hearing from you rocked my world? Life is on the downside of the roller coaster right now. things are happening rather quickly. I leave my first professional job on friday, thank god, they were only just beginning to annoy me. I have a second interview a half an hour later, and hopefully I’ll be damned impressive. Otherwise it’s back to temping for me. Which in and of itself, would be better than the position I was in. That ought to give an indication of something. But I truly hope that the next time I speak with you I will be working for an interactive gamer, 3D 2D graphics and animation company. All the work bullshit really seems paltry compared to the rest of my life.
Take for instance, my therapist Larry. The first person to actually stare at me and say “Shit. I have no idea how I would have dealt with that.” Aaah. Validation. So…so…affirming. As I dredge up the sorry muck from my past some call my inner conscience, I’m discovering something important. I really enjoy the feel of mud. I wouldn’t even want to start on you, oh 7/10s (or whatever the equation) under the surface. I do know one thing. Part of my therapy is to be selfish, and christ I’m enjoying it.
So, I’m an aunt, and of all the members of my family, blood related or not, it’s the youngest of us (the one still living in Scotland, what incredible irony (Do you watch South Park?)) who has had this little girl. Her name is Jade. My family got on my case for my perfunctory congratulations. Hey, can I help it if I don’t think a seventeen year old mother deserves congratulations? Selfish? Maybe. At least I don’t wonder why I no longer live there. Ok.  Enough pessimism. It’s not my nature.
Seriously though. I knew for a long time I was putting off dealing with some things, and I knew it would be hard. Not logically, emotionally. (Bet you didn’t know I suppressed so much, eh?) But damn it feels good to be feeling everything again. Even if it means random outbursts on subway trains. It also involves people like Michael. This chick, yes, chick, I met on the street. She hawked up a huge one as I was walking past and then apologized. I turned around and told her never to apologize for spitting on the street. I shared with her my firm belief that it is one of life’s pleasures that we cannot deny ourselves. We got into a pretty good discussion from that point, it was a pleasant walk to the underground from there.
I saw Shaune over my visit home.  Which was, by the way, blissful. I did everything I wanted to do. I ran around in the rain through the streets of Northampton in my boxers and a tank top. I laid on the ground in Vermont and watched a thunderstorm with my favorite little cousin (who is now 6′ 2″, damn him, and a freshman in college). I drove down the nine mile long Ashfield/Williamsburg road twenty times singing at the top of my lungs. Trees hills paths through the woods; we all got reacquainted and I promised to someday return home. Shaune helped me move the last of my stuff out of the east, and pack it up for UPS (who went on strike the next day). God it was good to be with someone I could simply be with. And perfect as it was, don’t think I didn’t miss you. Silly. Because I did.  And I do.
Things sound like they’re going well for you down south, and no, I couldn’t have guessed that’s where you’d be, but it warms the cockles of my heart to know you’ve left home, if only for school or what ever. And it also warms me to hear that Stacey (sp?) is cool, that you don’t fight… that she reads Faulkner. I could tease you here, possibly about women of your past (?) but I’ll forego the pleasure. To be honest, I had to get over alittle dose of jealousy (ok, large, if I can;t have you, you’re supposed to be pining away, lonely) when you first wrote me about her. After all, a girl can have delusions of romance can’t she? Though if you wrote me you were getting married and having kids I might shit my pants so be understanding, in my head you were mine. (Hee hee, I crack myself up.)
I can’t seem to be too serious tonight. It comes from my sheer happiness at hearing from you. I’ll be getting fully hooked up and wired into my room, thanks to my new tech geek housemate Rob. He bought a new computer and pawned off his old mac PowerPC on me. Ah gee. Life sucks. And get this, Juanita (room mate A) and Rob are hooking up a house, yes, a house network. So we can chat on line from room to room. Now I know I live in San Francisco.
Oh yeah, can’t forget to tell you the triumph of at least my month, if not my year, before I close. I built my bed. A real bed. Large frame, big old red pine barn board type affair. Took me awhile, but I did it. Even had to use the circular saw. (You should just see me with a router…quite a scene.) Haven’t officially tested it with the weight of more than one, but hey. The prince just hasn’t gotten off the plane yet.
Ok. Time to close, before I ramble off into the wild blues of my fantasy life. My love to you Mr. Blocker. You’re always in my thoughts and I’m always wishing you the best. I’d love to see you, but I have no idea when that could happen. As far as I know, I’ll be on that coast next summer. In the meantime, sleep well play well and dream big.