Car Trip Babble

Brain is fried from car trip with the family. The little people I can handle and understand, for the most part. When you're gone you realize how much food you eat and passes through your life. We ate, like, all the time. And none of it was really satisfying and yet I continued to eat and then sit in hot tubs.

Also passed lots of farm land which made me nostalgic for farmland except my mind is this vast green field and I am the shephard and I'm really bad at managing the dogs and the wolves have eaten almost all my sheep. I have no idea what is next, or where I'm going, and then there's my mom and she has no idea where she is is where she's going, and everything feels very unsteady. I do think it is all slowly spiraling downward and this coupled with all the pie I have eaten lately is unsettling.

And then we're back from vacation and the house looks bigger and the kids ate KFC and I thought relief, we're back, and then sad, oh, we're back. There's the same view. I'm stuck, how do you get unstuck? Life speeding by at 80 mph makes you want life to speed by at 80 mph, and a nice clean hotel room at the end of the journey. Life here in my real life is hard.

Family is wonderful, though. Loud, lovely and wonderful. Got to see my brother, and had all my parents together and this was good. A guy whittling sticks in the park gave me some religion, he had sticks and feathers on his hat, sitting in this rainy, bright green field by a stream and he told me to look at stuff. Love the stuff you're looking at. He whittled a magic wand, gave us wild blackberries just picked and even Nathan knew that this guy was the best part of our trip.

I guess I feel like whem you're yelling at your mom to get up and stop having a breakdown because you're scared she's going to die, and you just want her to get up and start acting like your mother again, and then you see her through all these other relatives eyes and the reflection is scary, you see how she looks, she looks terrible, selfish, mean, angry, annoying, self-serving, uninteresting - but then to me she is all those things, but underneath it all she brought me soup when I was sick. She held my hair when I threw up. She stayed with me.

When I was having an argument with her because she didn't want to sleep on a fold out couch at the hotel because when we opened it up there was an old tissue inside it, and then Barry was flipping out because we drove for hours and now my mom wants to sleep in the car... I just thought, wow, we're fighting so much. Wow, I have to break up with my mother.

She's saying she's leaving, moving really far away to the house where she wants to live, where she'll have her own washer/dryer (way better than having a daughter), my best friend says "hang on, my friend, you're about to be liberated" and I see that. But I also see from this long drive, staring at the back of my mom's neck, that she's old and that kills me, that she's been sick and it messed her up, and I've had to watch it all. I don't get to just glide along with these unresolved things from some woman who raised me long ago and I never see anymore - she's right here, and I watch it all, we are always evolving. Or devolving in most cases. No wonder I had a yeast infection and couldn't stop eating sugar and kept wanting to buy horses. It's this need to cover the wound with something that used to feel good.

More than that, it's having deep feelings, feeling it all, seeing all these people and being rich in people, and feeling like I had a family. I just don't get life, on the most basic level. I don't get how to be successful, or fruitful.

I know how to love people. I ate a really good tomato out of my garden, that I grew from watering and watching it, slowly, slowly turn red. It took FOREVER.

I know how to do that. Watch, love, wait. I guess I should be honest. This is all I know how to do.