Mentally Replaying: "Take to the Sky," Tori
I'd rather be: focused
Desiring: world peace, an end to poverty and a pony


This weekend was strange, and so far it seems to have capped a stretch of time over the last few weeks that have left me feeling...dispirited.

A combination of feeling uncreative and lazy have left me without energy to try to find new things to do. So I'm left with vague instincts to "do something" but no pull to do something specific.

A week ago my mother told me she was in the process of purchasing a new house. It's currently in escrow and both of my parents are extremely nervous about it. Apparently my father has had palpitations and restlessness at night, and my mother is verging on supersticious, urging us not to talk about it as a done deal lest everything fall through.

So I only know that a) it's in Anaheim and b) much larger than the house I grew up in.

They don't plan to sell the old house right away, but my mom was talking about renting it out while various repairs are made.

The rent she was talking about sounds quite decent and I almost wish it were feasible to rent it myself with some friends. But since pretty much everyone I know is already settled and in no need of moving, and because Fullerton is out of the way for most people (I used to commute from the house daily into LA/Pasadena, it completely ruined Deitrich), it just doesn't make sense.

But I truly love that house. It's a small version of my ideal home. But since my ideal house would be a villa with easily a dozen rooms and more space than anyone needs (hey, what's the point of an ideal if it doesn't exceed need?), this is more appropriate. I still have no earthly use for a house at this time, but the design has imprinted the rubric against which I measure all houses. *Many* houses that I have been in have exceeded that house in size and few have as many problems that need repair. But relatively few have any personality.

I have relatively little desire to own property and fully recognize what a pain such a money and energy-drain would cause. But I guess I'm going through what a lot of friends have been through when they have to face the fact that eventually, and sooner than we thought, some stranger is going to sleep in our home and we are not going to be allowed in.

Some one else will put their kids in my bedroom. They will get up on school days and huddle next to the old heater vent while they dress for school. Someone else will hide their sister's dolls in the bottom drawer of the built-in wardrobe of the walk-in closet. Someone else will walk on the ledges of the outside walls and laugh at their mom's hysterical cries to Get Down NOW! Someone else can sit in quite contemplation in the little stone zen garden my father put in. Assuming they leave it there. On the Fourth of July someone else can climb onto the roof and watch the fireworks from Disneyland, Knott's Berry Farm, Angel's Stadium, Fullerton High School Stadium and Brea High School. Someone else will sleep in my parent's room. Someone else will keep his tools in my dad's garage. Someone else's Christmas decorations will go in the guest closet. Someone else will bar-be-que in the patio, and someone else will sit in front of the fireplace and calmly burn their poetry while the ash and heat stings their eyes.

It's enough to make a person emotional.

I mentioned it when I was out Friday night. I was told I should buy the house. I calmly stated that I couldn't afford to do such a thing. I was told to get a loan. I informed the party that I already have several loans I'm struggling to pay off. I was told to get a second job. Now, I know the person who said this was kidding. But honestly, it was rather rude, considering.

So I've been contemplating this while I've gone about my business of living. On Thursday night I went to my baby brother's high school graduation. BB is the youngest (obviously) but he's also the tallest of us. It's something of a trait in my family. At least on my father's side, my youngest uncle is the tallest in his family. It was odd being in the stands. Everyone mentioned how heavy the crowd was. I stayed focused on the ceremony to keep my mood from dipping. Being in the midst of a large crowd tends to make me nervous and severely affects me mood. The ceremony was shorter than I remember most commencements being, but thankfully it kept the speeches short. The salutatorian and valedictorian were girls who probably had never taken speech or theatre classes and found themselves breathless and flustered. Their speeches had very odd tempos that would get altered or even derailed at a mispronounced word or a skipped phrase.

The baby didn't like all of the shouting for people's names but there really wasn't much to be done for it. At least she didn't cry again when my sister and I shouted for our brother.

When we left I remarked to my sister that I think that was the most Mexicans I've ever seen packed into one place, this side of the border. Usually when I'm separated from family members I rely on being able to sift through any throngs of people looking for face with specific pigmentation. I certainly couldn't get away with that on Thursday. I don't really feel much at this realization (besides the frustration I felt then when I couldn't find my mom and my brother), but I guess it's a good thing. *shrug*

On Saturday I went with Molasses to Laguna Niguel for the 50th wedding anniversary of his great aunt and uncle. It was intriguing if only because I felt like I was infiltrating something.... The average age was pushing 50, the average color was um...palid..., and the average political bent was "fairly conservative." So I stuck out, just a titch.

I was amused, but I think I should be a little bit nervous that those who noted Molasses' introduction of me expect us to be married very, very soon. The very concept of marriage makes me twitchy and thinking of putting the people in the room in the same place as my (extended) family makes me very afraid. I tend to think of Molasses as a normal guy... then I visit his family and I see why he considers himself the black sheep. I guess it's natural for older (married) people to expect us to get married. My mother already assumes it'll be announced any day now and I suspect that when she's not busy thinking about the house and other such things she's going to formulate some plan to corner my boyfriend and get some details on his intentions toward me.

I regularly get teased when I state I can't attend a certain event because of plans to visit my family. I can only imagine this is because my family is 35 miles away. It's not that I visit them an inordinate amount of time. Sometimes I'm pretty aware that I would enjoy myself more if I visited them on a given day instead of going to a game where I'll inevitably want to cut open a vein just for the excuse to leave. Other folks go to visit their parents often enough, but for them it's a bigger rigamarole, involving purchasing plane tickets and asking for time off.

But I love every awkward, painful, hate-filled, smothering second of it.

In a way it's also annoying to hear friends tease about keeping their parents at a safe distance of thousands of miles. It's somewhat indicative of disrespect, but in a way that says I'm the fool for living so close to my parents. Funny, my parents don't assume I'd just as soon visit with them as avoid seeing my friends. Eventhough sometimes I do.

Yesterday I headed home for Father's Day. We went to a new restaurant called Amazon that served a Brazillian buffet. The cuisine was very different, and *very* filling. The meat variety was most intriguing, including rabbit, quail, lamb and more cuts of beef than I care to recall. The salad bar was extensive and odd. Much seafood, tripe with white beans, tongue, linguine in a pesto sauce (I think), yerba ground to flour and mixed with bacon and other oddities. The deserts were very rich as were the juices. The only tragic downfall of the place was *thoroughly* crappy drink service. I'm not especially picky about always having a full cup, but I don't think it's too much expect more water within an hour of finishing my glass.

Then ensued a good seven hours of hanging out at the house, all of us mostly ignoring each other. I read, lounged around, played with the birds, watched the Spurs sleepwalk into the first quarter of Game 6 of the Finals, sorta come to in the second quarter and rally long enough to come out ahead and take the NBA Championship title. Then read some more, showed my dad a few tricks on the computer, including using the keyboard to highlight sections of text, instead of the mouse, and how to use the digital photo program to run a slide show. He doesn't actually have a digital camera, but his brother does and he gave him a CD with pictures and a program to view them with. The only trouble is at the moment he doesn't have a printer or photo paper, or an Internet connection to send them to me to print.

It was a fairly low key day. It would have been just fine, but like I said I've been feeling restless. But without a direction I don't really know how to deal with it. I keep meaning to make a plan. I can do anything with a good plan. But things get in the way and I don't animate myself to get past them or work them into my plan. Always want to finish reading a book first, or planning for a game, or running errands or doing chores, or something for work or *something.* Sometimes I'm tempted to think that I would get more done in a different locale. "Maybe if I moved..." but that would just mean more things in my way - finding somewhere to live, a way to pay the bills, needing to do chores, etc, etc, ad infinitum, ad absurdum.

I have enough energy to get angry with myself for stalling so much, but not enough to do anything. Arg.

I know I've got some magic
buried, buried deep in my heart, yes
--Tori Amos