My Battered Valentine
First it was the kitchen table. That large, beautiful wooden number that filled out the petite dining room and made such a grand display as it divided the living room from the kitchen. And then the den upstairs slowly started to filter out. People flitted in and out to and from stopping by, speaking Spanish asking to see the spoils.
And then today was Fuffie’s farewell. Fuffie, who was somehow a part of our dysfunctional family. Fuffie who left a piss stain on the corner of the stairs once or twice or many times unnoticed. Fuffie who peed on my bedroom carpet as my mother’s foot honed in on the puddle upon their visit in November. Fuffie who’s turd I cleaned up on the floor that night we held Summer’s impromptu birthday party the night we met Jillian. Fuffie [whose name is pronounced FOO’fee]. And oddly enough, a part of me is really sad- morose actually, over all of the dishevelment.
And then there was Summer and Adam. A couple shot into the great stratosphere one official weekend sometime in January after flirting about since December then disbanded by the first official weekend in February.
Adam ended things with her on Friday the 4th after claiming she was “too clingy” and that he “needed some time alone to sort things out” and as a result forced Danny and me to pick up the pieces. That was an odd weekend where we were forced to split our parties. Adam clung to us that Friday night despite plans of meeting Summer and Brian for drinks. It bled well into the next day which forced me to meet Summer for Starbucks while Danny dealt with Adam. The night before he and I had gotten into a huge fight where he accused me of “spying” from the upstairs loft. I had woken up to the loud sounds of the movie they were watching sometime around 8am and peered down with blurry eyes to see what was going on. I had fallen asleep with my contacts on so I didn’t see much to begin with but I didn’t understand the big ordeal. A part of me is still upset over the coke fiasco and it’s one more reason to hold a tinge of resentment toward Adam for all of the drama he’s introduced to the household.
After all of the discussion to make things better between me and Danny, one oblivious gesture seemed to knock it all downhill in one fell swoop. If Adam hadn’t spent the night I would have gone downstairs and left him to spoil in his own hatred.
But the next day was weird. Though plans to hang out with Summer had fallen thru due to Adam’s neediness, she and I made the most of the evening. We sat thru hours of conversation at Starbucks, caught a bad movie - “The Roommate” - and met up with Cindy at our place in order to go out. Nilsa had corned me here and asked about the moving situation. I told her I had hoped Danny would bring it up to her but each time I told him he brushed me off. She was noticeably stressed and I was honest with her informing her that we may be out by the beginning of the month.
Swinging Richards was fun. Cindy’s goal was to get Summer and I drunk and she managed it quite nicely as I was throwing up on myself by the time we made it home. I don’t like getting sick and I didn’t quite know what went wrong but my head was in the toilet at the Georgia Diner and some stripper followed us home. At home I remember being handed over to Danny who chuckled “I leave you alone for one minute and you’re a hot mess” as he undressed me and put my night clothes on before tucking me in to bed. He checked up on me for a moment sometime later and the next afternoon I woke up with a huge headache and the cat tearing the room apart.
After spending the entire afternoon dry heaving I had to pull it together because me, Summer and Danny had plans to attend Brian’s Super Bowl party in Union City.
By the time we arrived he and his brother were putting the finishing touches on the food preparation which was delicious as always. We spent the evening watching Green Bay pummel the Steelers before heading home.
Things were still a bit weird since the argument Saturday morning before bed and since we were dealing with Summer and Adam’s fallout we hadn’t had time to deal with our own. We did watch a movie on the sofa and things appeared okay until bed.
I slept in my bedroom downstairs not wanting to cross the line since it was one of the things that surfaced nastily in the argument. We wouldn’t resume normalcy until sometime around Wednesday or Thursday thankfully before our trips away from home. My stomach was in a knot all week wondering if we would somehow make up before our flights - I don’t like leaving on bad terms.
Nilsa called me sometime last week before the trip back home to Louisiana in order to issue her notice that she would be moving out by the 28th. She couldn’t deal with the uncertainty of our moving situation and didn’t want to be “shady” by just walking out on us. I thought it odd considering that it would be both me and her son that she’d be walking out on but she made it seem as though notifying me in this manor was doing me a great favour.
Danny had already mentioned to her that she needed to deal with me about the move situation because it’s my “name on the lease”. I thought this not only unfair but completely irrelevant considering that we’re no longer even under a lease. It seemed a cheap way to point any blame in my direction despite how completely out of control I may feel over our current moving crisis.
I felt the stress of her voice thru the line but also felt as though slightly she was blaming me for ousting her despite the fact that I voiced my opinion about her son going about this the wrong way. She also mentioned that something that happened over the weekend was “not her lifestyle” and I wracked my brain wondering if she witnessed something while I was passed out or if she was simply using this as an excuse to departure with little notice. It’s something I’ve only brought up to Summer and Diane when discussing it but haven’t run it past Danny yet.
Perhaps this will be a good move for her; she’s planning to make the break to Puerto Rico. And perhaps things will be better for Danny as well for truly his attitude has been noticeably sour since his mother moved in the house. Remembering last summer some of our most complacent moments in recent history were after Q and Kathleen bailed out on us.
As for Heather, we had lunch at Olive Garden on Thursday, February 3rd to discuss plans of moving to the city. She apparently got a Realtor involved who is willing to help us by looking for places in the locations that we had highlighted; his plan was to start scouting on the 9th.
I received a text message from her as my plane landed on the runway Monday saying that she was still “on top of things” but now Danny doesn’t have the money to move out by the 1st and I’m worried we’ll pull the same shady moves that she dealt us two years ago when we were all to move in together.
This is not mentioning that we’ll have to cough up $625 each if we should decide to stay another month at Breckinridge Station unless we get someone to move in with us. Kyle’s living arrangement remains uncertain as does his job situation - the chocolate factory gig petered out. His mother won’t be around to keep things under control.
That same Thursday night, the 3rd we hung out with Heather and Liene after leaving work early to meet them at Blakes in the city. Hawkins ended up there at some point unannounced and Danny was horrified to see that his coming out to his family had turned him quite gay in appearance and action. His once straight-boy voice now sounded flamboyant and nasally. “I don’t think I’m attracted to him anymore,” he said. But yet he was still upset - visibly shaken actually that he got the cold shoulder while Hawkins spent time with his friends and left abruptly when they were ready to leave. He and I ended up at the diner while I treated him to breakfast where we sat mostly in awkward silence as he teared up at the booth in the seat directly across from me.
Rather than this year smoothing out 2010s rough edges it appears to get stranger and stranger while Danny and I become more and more distant.
I feel much of the credit is due to his mother’s constant presence and though having her gone will cause me a bit of grief at first, in the long run, I do think it’s probably for the better.
* * *
My weekend to Louisiana was meant to be a sabbatical away from the madness my life seemed to have birthed at the moment. I told my mother I needed a stress free weekend away. I was even looking forward to some time apart from Danny hoping that perhaps we could appreciate one another more by being away.
Mom greeted me at the airport with Jenny, Travis and Isabella, who is now grown and talking. She wanted nothing to do with me at first. Each time I looked at her from the front seat she covered her eyes but by the time we got home she was in my lap and serving me “tea” from her tea cup set. It was so easy to feel an immediate attachment to her now that she was a little girl as opposed to a little worm in diapers.
Mom took me to Cynthia’s for a haircut where I was greeted warmly - some things never change and then I settled back home for a nap until Travis called to round everyone up for dinner at Lin’s Buffet sometime around 6pm. I slept walked thru the meal considering I was only allowed an hour nap but enjoyed having the family together. It’s kind of strange to consider, but it’s very comforting being surrounded by my sister and parents. It’s as though all of the problems back at home had dissolved in that moment while I was in this impenetrable wall of affection. You tend to forget how special these moments can be and I realize when coming back that I took so much for granted.
That’s hardly saying that I felt any kind of emotional attachment to the town. Not so much as a blade of grass had changed in that place from the airport ride thru Vacherie and into Chackbay. It’s almost depressing. Even houses that appeared as mansions to us as children were tiny and insignificant. The house I live in now could swallow up just about every house in the Bay area and I never thought it anything special.
Houma is drab and run down despite its spurt of growth. Everything in south Louisiana is ugly and old including the opinions of most of the people who dwell there.
Though Atlanta may be flavourless, bland and lacking true culture, it would be a severe regression if I ever moved back to Louisiana (excluding perhaps the New Orleans area). I realize this even more so each time I visit back home.
But it was a great visit. I was able to see Chap for the first time since 2007. We met up for lunch at a small Thai diner off of Enterprise and spent hours talking about how much being away doesn’t make you appreciate this place any more than if we were still trapped. I feel such a connection to her; I always have. She’s one of the few people that I don’t have to wear a mask in front of and our conversations - regardless of topic- are always somewhat cathartic. I do wish we lived closer or at least saw one another say more often than once every three years.
When I got to Kendra’s Saturday evening the sun was starting to wane. She had been at home devouring a pack of Hawaiian sweet rolls while waiting for my arrival. Most of my best memories from adulthood were spent in that house with our group on Saturday evenings and it’s undeniably the thing that I miss the most about being away from home. It wasn’t long before Lacy strolled thru the door and the three of us headed to Patterson to visit Lisa in her new house two doors down from Megan and Julio with the Game of Life tucked under our arm.
We had dinner at a posh restaurant in downtown Morgan City where Kendra treated me to shrimp and crab rolls. It was a nice being able to reconnect with everyone despite the awkward degree with which our water glasses were refilled and despite the fact that I felt as though I was staring in the mirror when our geriatric server checked up on us with hair that matched the firey tone of my own.
We took a Walmart run where Lisa picked up cookies that she would later burn and then headed back to her place where the game commenced. Of course Lacy was accused of fraud for banking, I have a video where Kendra admits she’ll “lose this time because she doesn’t have control over the bank”, I got stuck with rotten reality, there was a great spat where Lisa jumped over the board to kill Kendra over a disagreement in stocks and finally after losing, Kendra flipped the board. Just like old times. Gotta love The Game of Life. I got to meet Julio who was just as hyper I had imagined him to be judging from photos posted on Facebook. And we ended the night with some Kat Williams on Youtube before heading back home.
Lacy departed and Kendra told me a bit of her tragic story with the current boyfriend situation. It’s sad how the wrong people end up in dire situations; Lacy of all people deserves a bit of contentment in her life but always ends up at the wrong end of things.
It was after 3 on Sunday morning and Danny had called me around this time to tell me that he had taken a microwave from the hallway so they could heat up leftover pizza.
He had called me Saturday morning as well around 9am to check up on me and to say that they were hungry and wished I was there to feed them. It wasn’t long after that Mom knocked on the door saying that Isabella had been itching to wake me up all morning long. Since they were leaving to visit Travis’ family for a bit she wanted to tell me goodbye. “Goodbye, I love you,” she said as she ran up to me and offered a bit kiss. With a start so sweet the day was bound to be good. I found a strange how open a child is to love and affection and how sad it is that as we get older we grow more jaded and guarded with our emotions. If only we can remain that loving without seeming like completely pariahs.
Talking with Danny did make me miss having him around yet being occupied throughout the weekend offered me minimal time to think about him.
The next afternoon, I parted ways with Kendra after another spontaneous Hipstamatic photo session and made it back to Mom’s after all of the guests had arrived for Mamaw’s 73rd birthday party/family reunion.
Turns out the family really hasn’t changed all that much. Aunt Kim has become a bit trashier, Uncle Chris a bit more delusional, Uncle David a bit more depressed, and Mamaw a bit more decrepit but all in all things stayed the same. Mikey and Tiffany were the only grandchildren present beside Jenny and I and it was nice not having to reconnect with everyone else including Heather who, word has it, is proudly incubating her fourth child.
The goal was to have family portraits taken since it was an impossible task to round up everyone for Thanksgiving according to the story. And though it took two hours to handle, I’d say it was a mighty success. Dad’s food was good and despite a few choice words there was very little drama.
I spent the end of the night with a visit to my Grandmother. I filmed her talking about her childhood and young adulthood revealing the same stories that I never tire of. She sat slouched on the loveseat in the living room and seemed somewhat disconnected from her own surroundings. Mom gets annoyed because she says Mamaw’s level of activity has declined rapidly within the last half year. And indeed it reflects in her weight which has decreased about 15 pounds or so. For someone who used to be so active, it’s a bit disheartening to hear her talk about all of her aches and pains which she claims prevents her from menial tasks such as washing the dishes or cooking.
I wished we could have had an evening like old times when we’d play cards or Scattergories or Scrabble or Yahtzee or Board games like we used to. I wished we could have gone walking like we did when she used to live on Orange Grove. Instead we strolled down Memory Lane in our minds. Uncle David stopped by to talk about some Christian music album he’s working on in Papaw’s old shed he’s turned into a studio. It was nice company and to be honest, removing his crazy religious beliefs and hardcore tea party ideals, I don’t mind Uncle David. He’s one of the more intelligent and thoughtful family members if we steer clear of the GOP trap.
Before I left she walked to the back bedroom and came back with a spiral bound book in her hand. "Do you remember this?" she said. "It's your old journal." I had completely forgotten about giving this to her. It was the entries from my old online blog I used to keep on OpenDiary dated 2001. This was the year I met Kendra. This was the year my photography was in bloom and it was the year I felt such a sick level of uncertainty with my life knowing that with my graduation approaching, schooling would no longer be a crutch. And yet I was still in this godforsaken town. Strange how nearly ten years later and I have a whole different plate of worries. I was surprised she had kept it for so long. "I never showed anyone else," she said.
I parted ways with Mamaw and headed back home to talk with Mom a bit before bed. Jenny and Travis had left earlier during the night for Longview, Texas before my visit to Choctaw after bathing the kids. By the year's end they may be back in Houston.
The next morning Mom woke me up early so that I could shower before leaving for New Orleans. We picked up the Grandmother on the way because she wanted to see me off. A simple walk thru the airport nearly did her in as she huffed and puffed and complained about her hips and legs. I think she didn’t quite realize just how badly out of shape she had become. Mom treated us to beignets at a vendor right outside of the gate and I was off for another dreadful flight. I sat by a fat girl whose thigh got in the way of the arm rest so that each time I would put my left arm down it met with a bit of resistance which prompted me to keep my left arm in my lap.
On the way going I sat with an ad representative named Malisa Minetree, a baby boomer from Indianapolis who fell in love with my name and thought I was in a band because of my out of control hair. We had a fascinating chat about life and the negativity that we often get surrounded by. I learned that she has four kids, the youngest two years and the oldest 18. We joked how she’ll be raising kids for a lifetime. She gave me her business card and told me to keep in touch.
The way back home was much quieter as I sampled James Blake’s new album that Pitchfork raved about.
* * *
What I most looked forward to is to reconnect with Danny once I landed in Atlanta. Having time apart made me realize that most of the opposition we face is due to unnecessary bullshit. I did miss him and the little contact we did have over the weekend was pleasant. I was looking forward to telling him about the stories from my wonderful weekend and I was sure he had much to say about the wild parties in Indy with Alissa.
What I was greeted with not only took me by surprise but forced me into an attitude so grave that I could barely remember how to dial work to call in. He was angry that came home Monday rather than Sunday. He was angry that he’d be late for work. I told him that I had already covered it with Diane so that he wouldn’t be penalized and though I realize picking me up from the Marta station would be a bit of an inconvenience, it isn’t as though I ask often. I even told him I would buy him dinner for his trouble which made me feel I was off the hook.
Instead he barreled thru my warm arrival and replaced it with a cold scolding that nearly shattered any hope I had of a warm reconnection. “You’re one of the most selfish people I know. I realize I’m selfish but you can’t even admit it.” “You fucked with my routine. The only thing I look forward to is that hour before work where I can sit in the break room.” “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me until last night that you were coming in tonight. You just expected me to change my schedule because of you.” I was so taken aback by his attitude that I could have cried. And maybe it was selfish of me. But I didn’t think anything of it. We share the same schedule. We have the same job. If I’m supplying food and making sure that he won’t be penalized for being late, then really what’s the big deal? If he was the type that was never late for work, or enjoyed his job, or wanted to make every penny he could, I could understand him. But every day of every hour he tells me how much he hates the job. How much he may as well go back to part-time because he doesn’t need the extra money. How the only people he gives two shits about at work is Diane, Stacie and me. I didn’t realize he valued his routine above all.
We yelled, screamed and fought for most of the ride home and what wasn’t a shouting match was awkward silence.
I arrived home to an empty house but my needy kitty was sure glad to see me. I sat at the kitchen table with the Macbook looking at photos on Facebook as Danny stormed upstairs and closed his bedroom door. We had both called in to work.
This was too much for me to absorb. It wasn’t the ending I had intended. We were supposed to be smiley and happy and offer hugs and say we missed one another. We were supposed to say “boy, you missed this” and “so-and-so said hi” and “take a look at this photo”. We were supposed to say “I appreciate you” and “we need to stop being so antagonistic with one another.” I was going to apologize for my wrongs and promise that in the future I would curb my bad attitude. Instead..this.
He came downstairs not ten minutes later, stopped midway and apologized saying he went too far and that he didn’t mean to blow up at me. I apologized for inconveniencing him thru a crackle in my voice and we started on about the weekend as though nothing had happened. A part of me was still resentful that he ruined the image in my head. A part of me was angry that my complacence didn’t transfer with me from Louisiana. A part of me was disheartened that I’ve lost so much control over my life that I can’t even be positive without severe repercussions.
Summer came over and we headed for Applebees (the only place that didn’t have an hour wait) for Valentines dinner and drinks. Drew showed up too and there was an awkward moment when somehow Summer’s ex-boyfriend Matt showed up while Summer was in the bathroom. What made it even more frightful was that she didn’t tell him which location she was in which made his stalker gesture seem even crazier. “What are you doing here?” she said. “I told you I didn’t want to talk right now.”
She spent the night with us as we lazed on the sofa watching bad movies until the early morning.
So the evening ended better than it began. But I was jolted back into reality. The reality of what my life here has become. This constant level of uncertainty. The mercurial attitudes. My wandering living situation.
And yes, things are fine today. And tomorrow may even be an interesting day - we’re taking off of work to spend it with Summer at some event in the aquarium which we have tickets for. We’ll get to spend an evening in the city.
But there’s always that feverish doubt in the back of my head of what more could happen next.
There’s always that part of me that considers it’ll be me running thru the street one night knocking on your door in my bare feet begging to be saved from whatever bloody mess I may have left behind hoping you can tell me that I’m not truly crazy and that it was all just a dream.