|
2001-06-01 || 12:24 p.m. || in paradise there will be my sweet sister iron chef. || i was talking to my sister last night (i had called my mum beforehand to tell her that i went to the grocery store and had the most terrible craving for cold cold wine. i wheeled my cart slowly down the liquor aisle and stopped in front of the wine in a box section. i thought of my mum's ritual: coming home from work, closing the front door behind her, unceremoniously peeling off her pantyhose and hanging her labcoat on the back of a dining room chair, making a beeline to the kitchen to fill a glass with ice and wine in a box. nothing sounded better than to be in my parent's backyard with my mum, sipping luscious wine in a box and talking about the garden. i put a box in my cart. it was lighter than i thought. it was cheaper than i thought. i imagined coming home, closing the front door behind me, dropping my shopping bags in the hallway (frozen foods be damned), taking off my pants on the way to the kitchen (because it was very hot and because with my mother there is a link between wine in a box and some sort of undressing. please do not take that the wrong way.), filling up a glass with ice and wine in a box, the box still on the counter, and sitting on the carpet? or sitting on my bed? that didn't seem right. and i realized the ice cubes in my freezer probably weren't the same kind my mom has that makes the most wondrous clinking sound against the glass. and there would be no garden party sponsored by wine in a box. i looked at the box in my cart. i put it back. i couldn't go through with it.) so i was talking to my sister. she is thinking about moving up here. i immediately thought: 'she will make me dinner every night! feasts of the firmest tofu and fancy vegetables and spices and seasonings as crafty as all get out! pirate food! my little iron chef, right here in the bay area! yay yay yay!' and then all kinds of wonderful things hit me over the head. kelly was talking, lamenting the boy situation and the housing situation and the job situation, poor girl, and all i could think of was 'we will take yoga classes together!' 'craft nights and skateboarding and finally a girl to go shoe shopping with! trips to san francisco and talking in that jenn-kelly sister language that drives everyone up the wall! no one will be able to stop us!' all the neoprint stickers and shared clothes and cats and cheesecake. stalking the neighbors. going to the hotsy totsy. getting real good at pool again. i'll paint pictures for her kitchen and she will paint pictures for mine. it will be like mary and rhoda and i will cut her hair in my kitchen on saturday afternoons with the npr blarin. ira glass in the background of our giggling. bliss. and we talked some more. about school and san diego and our parallel situations of only having boy friends around. about gynie things and terrible secrets and hector. movies. i brushed my teeth while she talked about her best friend and she didn't even get mad. i washed the sink and cut a misbehaving chunk of my hair as she talked about finding a job and it was almost like she was there already. no self consciousness whatsoever. no awkward pauses. just talk talk talk, interrupting each other, going on tangents, answering questions before they were asked in that magical sisterly way. like she was up here already. i am not getting my heart set on this. but oh how it would be heaven. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |