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2001-08-27 || 12:14 p.m. || ashland is hot and sulphury. || driving and driving up and down hills to a secret location, cursing slow drivers in the passing lane, going through cds one after the other in rapid succession. air conditioning and ringing in the ears while crossing the imaginary border between california and oregon. michael seated at the fountain with very short hair and a hat. it was hot. we had lunch and argued. walked up and down sidewalk and grabbed arms and wiped sweat off foreheads. stripes and plaid and heavy pants not at all appropriate for ashland heat. finding a motel for cheap with the smallest room and a bum light but a pool in the parking lot and mtv. we went to the salvation army to find swimming trunks for michael. we swam laps and i put on water ballet routines and michael kept threatening me with piranha hands, then we got tired and went back to our room to watch mtv with awful reception while lying on the bedspread in wet towels. familiarity. and feeling very comfortable. and a fierce tenderness that makes him push my buttons until my face goes red and i slug him out of frustration. he knows me better than anyone. i am a brat the eleven year old me nothing covered or hidden with him. i complain and get sensitive and tell secrets with him. sitting on the curb waiting for the movie to start. that was us. talking in low voices. accidental coordinated outfits. the push and pull of love and friendship and a year and a half old break-up. we drove out to emigrant lake to look at stars. i grew impatient. we drove to safeway for ice cream and wine in small bottles and a pack of cards. we joked and i kicked and i called out his name in deserted aisles. i was tired and the bedspread was too slick for cards. i was entranced by the real world and trl, feeling like i had been living on the moon for years. m wanted to drink wine and play cards. kiss. i was tired. i was overloaded. i was struck with that uncomfortable feeling of throwing logic out the window and driving five hours to a red dot on a map to meet your best friend/ex-boyfriend/first love and not being sure what to do once you're there. wanting everything to be perfect, to satiate all the missing yearning feelings, for there to be no awkward pauses or uncomfortable feelings. the next morning the casio calculator watch woke me up. michael was grumpy. we put our stripes and plaid and all wrong cold weather clothes on and drove to medford in search of thrift store treasures. we ate at a diner. we held hands to the car in the parking lot. after driving and driving back and forth up and down we found heavenly value village and proceeded to fill up a cart with fabulous things: shoes and wintery coats and wranglers and polyester. he picked out pants for me, right size right style. we tried things on in the fitting rooms and knocked on doors to take a look. pushing the cart around together. deciding on tables and shoes and porcelain cats. lovely. we drove back to ashland. we stood at m's car in front of the motel and didn't say much. he tried to convince me to go back to portland instead. i wanted to start the drive. the winding down. decompressing. caught in a car for hours on end to think things out and not think at all. we hugged at the curb and michael got in his car and with the engine on he couldn't hear me talking to him from my car. the actuality of him driving north and me driving south is what got me. recovering the distance, the forgetting what exactly he looks like. the separate days and adventures. it was exhausting. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |