Thursday, March 7, 2002

when i was 16, he told me that rayuela was his favorite book when he was my age

i really am a laid back person and do not care about piginess or many other things. right bonnie? but, my sister makes me want to pull out my hair with her pigginess and destructiveness. i just came to the computer after watching "come undone" (a pretty silly, gay french movie that was barely good) to find my cds scattered all over the desk begging for scrathes. and no, normally i don't put cds back in their cases, but i also don't set cups of tea on top of them, using them as coasters. so, i clean up this little cd mess and then put on my headphones to listen to the soothing sounds of sade to find out that sound is only coming out of one ear. my sister is a fucking terrorist. i don't know how, but she always manages to destroy the few possessions that i actually am possessive about. since i am always listening to music, i went and splurged on a nice pair of those big headphones, and somehow my sister manages to break them. if she were not asleep right now, i would be big time yelling at her.

she's just so piggy and gross. grrr. the toothpaste in the bathroom is all over the sink, and the actual toothpaste dispenser is twisted and mangled from her sloppy attempts to get toothpaste out of it. she gives me such headaches, i am very much looking forward to her going back to school.

today was a beautiful beautiful day. i opened by bedroom windows and thought today would be a good day to tackle cleaning my room. folded clothes and picked up shit for a couple of hours. dad came over for an hour or so. told me more about his "undercover" doings, explaining how the police tape all these wires to him, and how they gave him a gun. and god, this is too weird. anyways, he left to go do something with the police this afternoon. today, i actually enjoyed by dad. i guess he's stopped selling his pills to his friends now, and so now he takes enough medication to be his usual self. he talked about working with the police like a little boy, sort of excited about doing something james bondish. his literate self came out as he made references to some french film with a clumsy spy and started talking to my sister about greek theater after seeing her drama book. while i was watching news about israel, i heard my dad talking to my sister about oxycontin. saying something like, "i used to think that are all drugs were okay - that they all expanded your consciousness, but this drug is bad, people would seriously kill to get some if they didn't have any." and for some reason, i thought this was real cool of my dad that he used drugs for spiritual purposes, but then i quickly tried to drown out their conversation, getting more and more enraged at israeli bombings of plo headquarters.

later, i went with my mom and sister to meet my aunt molly for dinner, pretty sure that sarah would flake out on our plans to hang out tonight. we went to lebanese taverna, this really swank, new lebanese restaurant in pentagon row. the design was so awesome. the food was not exactly awesome, but still pretty damn good.

we drove home, eighties at eight was playing on 107.3. david bowie's "china girl" served as the soundtrack to our drive past the pretty much completely rebuilt pentagon. down the parkway. potomac to my left shimmering like the gorgeous sequined diva it is. the lit-up monuments and memorials on the other side of the river looked beautiful. i was with my family. my belly was full of yummy food. good music was playing. the car was heated. the sky was looking beautiful. my mom was behind the wheel. and i felt tired, but was kept awake by feeling loved. it was a good feeling.

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