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2003-03-24 || 9:59 p.m. || mama, don't let your babies grow up to be tortoise wranglers. || tonight we had one of those sisterly head-holding weepy fight-talks that takes place over a seemingly neutral dinner in a restaurant where you invariably know one of the waitresses. where your dinner suddenly doesn't taste so good and sits in your mouth like glue and wet cement and you are torn between wanting to move to the same side of the booth to hug and dropping your napkin and walking out to the car alone. where the waitress comes by every so often and you have to stop and look up and smile and say thank you too many times, and then return to the tornado at hand that is quietly methodically shredding your napkins into bits and melting the ice in your lemonade. i don't want to make this into a contest of who is the good sister who is the bad sister who would do what in certain situations, but i realized tonight, as i always realize when these fight-talks happen, that it can all be boiled down to genetics. i firmly believe this. when i was created there were certain attributes left off my magical links of dna, such as opportunism and faith and a firm belief in one's self. kelly got those. i got empathy and worry and letting my heart get hurt all too easily. (although that doesn't sound right at all. but where kelly can drop everything and leave for months at a time and make all kinds of money and gain incredible experience, i stay at home and have a dumb yet stable job and feel terrible about unfinished novel painting book proper rebellion stage.). so we talked and we cried and apologized and called each other on our shit. we resolved to live together so that i can take care of her cats when she's away and dust her furniture and heap on the worry that she is genetically indisposed to collect. and we both reiterated that we are each others' favorite person in the entire universe, but we both cried over hurt feelings and broken hearts and all the damage/magic that happens to two people whose lives have been eternally entwined. it's like we're different halves of the same person. we need each other to be complete, and yet sometimes it is the hardest thing to relate to your complement. just because you don't possess anything she does. because you need those things in order to be balanced. so. after a painfully unexpectedly short four-day stay up here as my freshly returned adventurer sister, she's going back to the desert to take another job. that will bring in all kinds of money. that will certify her in her field and ensure future jobs. that will make her truly happy, as even i can admit she would have gotten the mean sads decompressing in a cold victorian with no work or desertfriends. she was there for my reading. she cried at the right spots and hugged all my confidence back into me. i got to lie on her bed while she danced in her room to her favorite rolling stones song. she got to tease me over crying at antiques roadshow (teary-eyed old man + native american blanket + $500,000 estimate). and now she's going away again. oh. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |