Now
Maybe it was the stale taste of diet Coke on an early morning flight. Or how dark it still was at 7am. Or the security worker who looked at my driver’s license and asked if Arnold was teaching me German “out there, in California.” Or the farmer in greasy, light blue overalls in the row behind me who asked if what I was wearing was the fashion these days and I politely tried to ignore him, but for some reason the weekend got off to a strange start.
I sat around the St. Louis airport for an extra hour because Julia’s flight was an hour before mine. I didn’t know what to do. I aimlessly wandered. I remembered flying through here as a child, when we couldn’t get non-stop flights to New York. The old TWA terminals, now they seemed so dark and small and run down but they didn’t back then. I stared out at the planes, wondering if they were here when I was and if things could be like how they once were.
I was disappointed when the plane was already descending after only half an hour in the air. I had come to equate airplane with Los Angeles and LAX was more than half an hour away.
Julia and I took “the L” to Northwestern. Our navigational skills some how got us form O’Hare to Evanston even if it did take twice as long as the flight. During one of our many transfers I saw the saddest old lady. She didn’t seem too old really, but her face was so worn and sad. Dressed all in purple. With three children following behind her, like a mother duckling. Julia’s friend, Haige or something babysat me until Kate was free. Evanston was as nice as I remembered it. I hung out with her for an hour. Managed to talk for an hour and at the same time talk about nothing for an hour.
Seeing Adrienne again was really exciting. She looked the same - a black North Face fleece and tight, clean corduroy pants. Once again I found myself on a rickety “L” car. Her friends Adam and Brian came along and we were going to meet up with her roommate Erin, when we got off the train. Brian talked a lot, I spaced out a lot. I kept thinking about Arnold, that farmer, my shirt. Is this what kids are wearing these days? Sad faced Purple woman.
On the other hand, I was instantly attracted to Adam. I hung on every word he said. I probably stared at him the whole ride. His outfit, which looked like every item came from the Gap fit him well. He was so confident and composed, I can’t describe it. Or maybe that was just him compared to Brian, who kept talking and I just kept nodding.
Despite my initial irritation, Brian had great taste in restaurants. My pasta was so good - with scallops and shrimp - luxuries I hadn’t had since the sunny California days of yore. I’d slowly been loosing my appetite at school, but I ripped through the seafood like there was no tomorrow.
We missed Northwestern’s homecoming parade, which was fine. I didn’t really want to go anyway. It was dark and rainy. We went to see “School of Rock.” Brian came too, I hardly got any time alone with Adrienne. I had this strange moment of disorientation during the movie - trying to figure out where I was, where Adrienne went to school, where I went to school.
I feel bad I never had an honest conversation with her. But at the same time being with her and her typical indecisiveness was so comforting.
Saturday I spent downtown with my cousins. The ultra-urban atmosphere of Chicago did me good, I think.
This morning I cut myself on a tile getting into the shower. My little finger, on my right hand spurted blood. I just stood there naked watching the blood pour out. I wasn’t ready to come back and at the same time I wanted to be back in my room so much.
When I arrived O’Hare I noticed all the flights to Los Angeles had been cancelled. It freaked me out. I went to the gates for the LAX flights. Fires all around the outskirts of LA, coupled with Santa Anna winds had made the air too smoke-filled to fly through. I remembered those days. The warm winds were always strange. The way stuff used to blow around Oakwood. How planes flying into Burbank used to come very low over the school. And Oakwood seems so far away. So does Arnold. Where is the farmer? Is this what kids are wearing these days? Sad faced purple woman.
Now, I’m back. Vinay’s father has passed away over the weekend. It’s like spring break when Lindsey’s dad died suddenly and unexpectedly. They’re both people I like but don’t know that well so I’m really at a loss of what to do. It’s not like they’re people I don’t know and I can just say “I’m sorry” and shrug it off, but, they’re not best friends so I can’t even attempt to gauge how they are feeling and how they’re feeling about interacting with others. I want to reach out but I can’t. I don’t know how to act.
* * *
I’m afraid to go home in a month; I’m afraid to stay here too long.
I sat around the St. Louis airport for an extra hour because Julia’s flight was an hour before mine. I didn’t know what to do. I aimlessly wandered. I remembered flying through here as a child, when we couldn’t get non-stop flights to New York. The old TWA terminals, now they seemed so dark and small and run down but they didn’t back then. I stared out at the planes, wondering if they were here when I was and if things could be like how they once were.
I was disappointed when the plane was already descending after only half an hour in the air. I had come to equate airplane with Los Angeles and LAX was more than half an hour away.
Julia and I took “the L” to Northwestern. Our navigational skills some how got us form O’Hare to Evanston even if it did take twice as long as the flight. During one of our many transfers I saw the saddest old lady. She didn’t seem too old really, but her face was so worn and sad. Dressed all in purple. With three children following behind her, like a mother duckling. Julia’s friend, Haige or something babysat me until Kate was free. Evanston was as nice as I remembered it. I hung out with her for an hour. Managed to talk for an hour and at the same time talk about nothing for an hour.
Seeing Adrienne again was really exciting. She looked the same - a black North Face fleece and tight, clean corduroy pants. Once again I found myself on a rickety “L” car. Her friends Adam and Brian came along and we were going to meet up with her roommate Erin, when we got off the train. Brian talked a lot, I spaced out a lot. I kept thinking about Arnold, that farmer, my shirt. Is this what kids are wearing these days? Sad faced Purple woman.
On the other hand, I was instantly attracted to Adam. I hung on every word he said. I probably stared at him the whole ride. His outfit, which looked like every item came from the Gap fit him well. He was so confident and composed, I can’t describe it. Or maybe that was just him compared to Brian, who kept talking and I just kept nodding.
Despite my initial irritation, Brian had great taste in restaurants. My pasta was so good - with scallops and shrimp - luxuries I hadn’t had since the sunny California days of yore. I’d slowly been loosing my appetite at school, but I ripped through the seafood like there was no tomorrow.
We missed Northwestern’s homecoming parade, which was fine. I didn’t really want to go anyway. It was dark and rainy. We went to see “School of Rock.” Brian came too, I hardly got any time alone with Adrienne. I had this strange moment of disorientation during the movie - trying to figure out where I was, where Adrienne went to school, where I went to school.
I feel bad I never had an honest conversation with her. But at the same time being with her and her typical indecisiveness was so comforting.
Saturday I spent downtown with my cousins. The ultra-urban atmosphere of Chicago did me good, I think.
This morning I cut myself on a tile getting into the shower. My little finger, on my right hand spurted blood. I just stood there naked watching the blood pour out. I wasn’t ready to come back and at the same time I wanted to be back in my room so much.
When I arrived O’Hare I noticed all the flights to Los Angeles had been cancelled. It freaked me out. I went to the gates for the LAX flights. Fires all around the outskirts of LA, coupled with Santa Anna winds had made the air too smoke-filled to fly through. I remembered those days. The warm winds were always strange. The way stuff used to blow around Oakwood. How planes flying into Burbank used to come very low over the school. And Oakwood seems so far away. So does Arnold. Where is the farmer? Is this what kids are wearing these days? Sad faced purple woman.
Now, I’m back. Vinay’s father has passed away over the weekend. It’s like spring break when Lindsey’s dad died suddenly and unexpectedly. They’re both people I like but don’t know that well so I’m really at a loss of what to do. It’s not like they’re people I don’t know and I can just say “I’m sorry” and shrug it off, but, they’re not best friends so I can’t even attempt to gauge how they are feeling and how they’re feeling about interacting with others. I want to reach out but I can’t. I don’t know how to act.
* * *
I’m afraid to go home in a month; I’m afraid to stay here too long.