Last night both, Mike & Liz, came over to my Dad's and we all had dinner together. Liz has been coming over almost every day since I've been here, which has helped a lot. But it was nice to have Mike here too. I made meatloaf and garlic-mashed potatoes...comfort food. I've been gaining by the day down here (it's kind of a prerequisite to be at least slightly overweight to live in Orange County).

They both helped me get my Dad out of bed and into the living room so that we could all eat together, which was nice. Then, once everything was going smoothly, the kitchen sink clogged up. No amount of draino was going to fix this disaster either - believe me, we tried almost a whole bottle. The plumber is on his way...

I got so sad when Mike left. He couldn't stay the night as he has school today. I walked him out to his car and it almost felt like, back when we were dating. Kind of strange. My Dad lives in a gated apartment complex and, when I let myself back through the gates, I really felt like I was returning to my prison. Earlier last night, Mike said that I should try to do this with as much grace as possible. I had scowled at him and blown a plume of smoke in his direction. I'd like to see him do this gracefully. But, the more I thought about it, the more I think he's right. If I am going to do this thing, then I should just shut up about how it's killing me, suck it up, and try to do the best job I can. At least that way, I won't have any regrets.

After the plumber and the nurse and a bunch of phone calls, and after the sun, hopefully, comes out, Liz & I are planning to lay by the pool and drink afternoon bloody mary's (I'll have to take the walkie-talkie of course). Liz and I went to kindergarten in Atlanta together, around 20 years ago. Sometimes I can't believe I've known someone, who isn't family, for 20 years. We were great friends up until I was nine and my family moved to Florida for a brief 5 years. During that time, Liz and I lost touch, but when I came back to Atlanta she and I ended up in the same afterschool art program and, soon after that, the same highschool. Proms, graduations, boyfriends, backpacking in Europe...the whole deal. Then she moved to Charleston and I to NYC and we grew a bit distant again but last fall she and I both made the move out here. She actually lives down in Laguna Beach, which is closer to my Dad's than to LA.

When I was little, and even when I was not so little, I used to get really angry with my parents for having just me. I desperately wanted a brother or sister, just someone to share my misery with, dammit. And now that I'm older and on the verge of being parentless, I wish that even more. Just to have someone that has all the same memories that I do, in case I forget. I'm terrified of forgetting. Liz is the closest thing I have to a sister. She remembers the pool parties my parents threw for me when I was 4. She remembers our old dogs and our first day of 11th grade. Most importantly, she remembers my mother...
10:41:38 AM     comment []