visiting family and friends
January 5, 2009 § 1 Comment
1. going: we three days till lift off. so much still left to do. cant even make a to do list because it is too overwhelming to look at. but it is keep getting stuff done or sit down and cry about gaza.
2. new calendar: el compa bought me the we’moon calendar. i have always wanted one but dont spend time in hippie crystal shops and i forget to order one online. so i am really excited. the lil hippie girl in me is twirling in her broomstick skirt and crocheted halter top.
3. why i need revolutionary motherhood: visited highschool best friend on sunday. it was really good to see him and his daughter. half way through the trip i realized that i have spent years trying to like his wife. but i dont have to like that chick. i dont even like chicas like her. the first time i met her, i knew that she was exactly his type…the same chica that he was always fascinated by in high school. long hair, waif, shy, ‘sensitive’, frail, pale, an ‘artist’ who creates tiny art so that there is no risk of rejection or critique, is into her ‘own’ thing and has very little energy to extend themselves out of their relatively self-created and self-centered worlds.
when her daughter was a toddler she acted as if she and my highschool bf coming over to hang out at my house was such a huge imposition because she had a toddler. and traveling with her toddler was so daunting because she was so sensitive to making sure her child was in child safe/toddler proof area. and she had to determine the times that were most comfortable for her because she was the mother, etc. etc. etc. and so most of the time i went over to their house. and i was cool with that because i didnt have a kid.
and now that i have a toddler. we still had to go over to her house. on her schedule. and when we get there no one bothers to us that another chica and her one year old are coming over.
and this after aza has been dealing with major transitions for the past two weeks. meeting a bunch of new people, spending three days and nights with her grandparents and aunt and uncle (which is they longest we have ever spent apart from her and remember she is only 20 months old) a two-three day car trip, now hanging out at my mothers house. her sleep schedule is off. we are all a bit exhausted. and we still have two plane trips and two-three more countries to deal with in the next two weeks.
so aza who is normally really sociable and happy is more cranky and more attach-y than normal because there is so much change going on. and she is a lil afraid that we will leave her someplace for a couple of days again…and yes, this is all good…and she is doing amazing with all of this traveling and new people…and for the most part we just go with the flow…but come on!
and this wifey would have freaked out (smoldering resentment) if the situation had been reversed and she hadnt gotten a headz up that another chica and baby was showing up…but this wifey is just so shy and sensitive (to herself) that she had make sure that her black friend was there to protect (?) her from me…or something…god knows…
conversation with these kinds of chicas is so boring. 95 percent about what they did, lifestyle choices, etc. bigger ideas? no. social, economic, political, religious structures? no. very controlling by being too fragile to handle anything but what they desire and feel most comfortable with.
‘yeah you know when you go to the girls section (of a clothing store) its only pink and purple, but when you go to the boys section its every color available except pink. red, blue, yellow, orange, browns, greens…and (when i am high and a bit paranoid) i think that this is like a symbol of sexism where boys have so many options and girls are so limited and–‘ she cuts me off and says ‘no, its not that’
end of conversation…
i have known chicas like this since high school and they always annoyed me. and drained me. and i felt like i was obligated to like them. because they are nice. but they are so superficial. i just cant handle it. i need some depth. some content. not just an esthete.
they are just so so white.
4. my father: my brother told me that he had talked to dad in november. turns out dad is still new orleans. taking care of his aunt. or something. and dad told bro a crazy story about trying to take his aunt to the hospital and nearly getting car jacked. he says new orleans has gotten crazy violent. i dont know how true this is.
when i was in high school my dad spun me grand mythologies about himself, about me, about my mother. and i believed them. in all of their contradictions and beauty. i know that he was trying to give me a sense of pride in myself. and frankly it worked. when i got older, i struggled a long time trying to understand what was true and what wasnt.
my high school bf accused me of lying to him about my family when i was in the midst of trying to understand what was true and what wasnt for myself. and then called me a hypocrite. throwing out accusations because he was too scared to move to nyc with me.
i struggled through depresion, feeling suicidal at times, alot of tears, having to remake my past, my present with my bare hands. with whatever emotional support i could find along the way.
after i came back from palestine for the first time back in 2003 my father stopped speaking to me. we havent spoken since. every couple of years my brother calls my dad and i get the update. i am kind of surprised that he is still alive. he has looked sick to me for over a decade. but in another way i am glad that he is still alive. it reminds me that i come from a lineage of survivors. and that is probably the most valuable thing he has given me.