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2001-08-17 || 4:49 p.m. || i heart my baby. || i love my sister so much it is giving me indigestion. today we talked about how i will probably never see our house again because mum and dad have, to go along with the centrum silver years commercial that is now their swinging lifestyle, moved into a smaller house fifteen minutes away from the old one. (i realized that last night. that i would never see that lovely backyard or my old room again. leaving the tortoise that most likely died while digging halfway to china, his sweet shell wedged in our plumbing or sprinkler system.) it is more weird than anything, not so sad because that house has always reminded me of being in seventh grade and in a new school with no friends and droves of tormentors. torture on the school bus and threats in the girl's room and praying no one would talk to me on the walk home because i felt like i couldn't talk. all that self hate and awkwardness and the nightmares. oh.) kelly had to pack up all her stuff and all of my stuff and i was sad i missed it. going through old things. she said she opened her trunk and found all kinds of random things she had hid there thirteen years ago because she hadn't felt like cleaning. day of the week underwear and doll clothes and secret notes and a book i had made her, with 'kelly's diary' written in awkward bubble letters on the front and inside a list of all her favorite things, written in my handwriting. she said the rest of the book was blank. side note: one of my great fantasies is that after i die all of the things i have ever made- books and birthday cards and intricate letters, paintings of elvis and our cats, magazine clippings strung together with dental floss, cardboard cut-outs of teeth and televisions and fish, mixed tapes with jackets made of construction paper and the most painstaking handwriting- will somehow come together for the most rocking art exhibit ever. i deem michaelblandy and kellymysister curators. oh and my diaries, too. kelly said she threw away the underwear ( i was very mad. i would love to hang up those day of the week underwear like fabulous paintings, and stare at them for hours wondering how in the world my ass ever fit into them.) but kept the diary. yesterday i was talking to the xboy, who is very much an only child, about his half brother.. how very recently was the first time he got some sort of brothery feeling. and it was so shocking to think about. not having the sistery feeling. i love my kelly in the most insane crazy mama bear way. in a very hurty choked up way, where when i worry about her or fear she is hurt my whole body magnetizes and becomes very aware of things. her proximity or distance. and i very much believe it's like somehow sharing a brain... all of the common experiences catalogued alongside one another. all of my childhood is locked up in her childhood. not having to bring so many things to words because she already knows. and knowing me inside out to anticipate things. it's nutty. and to think how far away she is. but we have these veins flying back and forth, san diego to the east bay, nourishing the both of us with all these memories. all these known facts. shared molecular structure and common hate for mom's polish food. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |