"They cannot scare me with their empy spaces..."
Back home and hiding from the snow. On my first night back I got picked up by Thad and Emily and met up at Starbucks on South U with Alex, Cody and Chris. Cody demanded a life update from everyone and after about 10 minutes it came down to: "So... you guys wanna.. get drunk?" We split a bottle of vodka in Thad's basement and Alex managed to CONCLUSIVELY prove Cody's long-suspected gayness in the easiest possibly way, which no one had thought to try yet. Nick came over later and got so drunk couldn't stand up in about 10 seconds. Light-weight! Then we stuck around for hours to wait for Pat's plane to get in, which didn't happen til 2 AM. He looks like such a San Francisco/Brian Jonestown Massacre person now, it's funny. I remember when he wore track pants with holes in them... Nick mysteriously disapeared at the end of the night. Drove home? Maybe, 'cause he's stupid.
Other than that... lots of sitting around on my bed with Emily, listening to all the albums I only have on vinyl and gossiping about boys. Thanksgiving = pies and East Grand Rapids. My little cousin Marie made a "I am Thankful For..." book in her second grade class that was like: "I am thankful for the earth and all the supplies on it. I am thankful for my family and my whole house and all the supplies in it." WTF. This girl is very practical. She values her supplies.
This Thanksgiving pilgramige home make me dread the Christmas one, just because my whole immediate family will be in the same place in the same time for the first time in years. I think we've become different people to the point where this holiday sounds like the plot of a bad wacky family Christmas dramedy about redemption and "what really matters". We have: the archaeologist father who's spent the past couple years wandering the desert exploring ghost towns in New Mexico and Anasazi pueblos after some shady incidents in his past, the fighter-pilot Naval-officer older daughter, the New-Yorker, liberal-arts-school, bass-playing younger daughter, and the over-worked cubicle-bound mother. It doesn't sound like a movie I would want to see. But I guess I don't have a choice. Buy the ticket. Take the ride.
"...Between stars - on stars where no human race is
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places."
It's so quiet here I can actually hear myself think.
Other than that... lots of sitting around on my bed with Emily, listening to all the albums I only have on vinyl and gossiping about boys. Thanksgiving = pies and East Grand Rapids. My little cousin Marie made a "I am Thankful For..." book in her second grade class that was like: "I am thankful for the earth and all the supplies on it. I am thankful for my family and my whole house and all the supplies in it." WTF. This girl is very practical. She values her supplies.
This Thanksgiving pilgramige home make me dread the Christmas one, just because my whole immediate family will be in the same place in the same time for the first time in years. I think we've become different people to the point where this holiday sounds like the plot of a bad wacky family Christmas dramedy about redemption and "what really matters". We have: the archaeologist father who's spent the past couple years wandering the desert exploring ghost towns in New Mexico and Anasazi pueblos after some shady incidents in his past, the fighter-pilot Naval-officer older daughter, the New-Yorker, liberal-arts-school, bass-playing younger daughter, and the over-worked cubicle-bound mother. It doesn't sound like a movie I would want to see. But I guess I don't have a choice. Buy the ticket. Take the ride.
"...Between stars - on stars where no human race is
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places."
It's so quiet here I can actually hear myself think.