| ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- i stand accused of being me The weekend comes and goes in the blink of an eye. What happened? Friday it was there � looming in all of its four-day glory (I had Friday off as well as Monday) and then suddenly it was Monday night and I was chewing a peppermint-flavored melatonin and trying to situate myself in the path of a breeze in our hot little bedroom. Damn summer � did it not get the memo that it�s now September? Only three more weeks my sticky little season � and then you�re GONE. Right? Right?! Sigh. Not a terribly exciting weekend � but rather a semi-relaxing one wherein GB and I got along most famously and all those reasons that I love him � the reasons that are sometimes buried beneath the should-haves and why-don�t-you�s - bubbled to the surface. Friday night he took me to the bookstore to browse for new schoolbooks � I only found one but scored at the used bookstore the next day � and then treated me to ice cream afterwards. Saturday night we checked out a new caf� that�s doing all-ages shows and then hit up the club for a drink before going home to catch the second half of Saturday Night Live. I mean, how wonderful is it when your husband makes sure you get home in time to see �Weekend Update� so that you may drool all over Jimmy Fallon? Sunday day I had work to do and then in the afternoon K and I went to go see Blue Crush � which I loved. Girl Power to the nth degree. Sunday evening GB and I contemplated going out but we were both pretty tired and ended up watching �Six Feet Under� and then camping out on the couch with a couple of books. And yesterday we were good Americans. Like Mrs. Roboto we recognized our duties as good U.S. citizens and hit the mall. Oh and what a duty it was. We visited the mall that�s about 30 minutes from our house � smack dead in the middle of the suburbs � because it has a Crate & Barrel for which we have a gift certificate that we�ve been holding on to since Christmas. The idea was to use it to get a new reading lamp for the bedroom � something for me to study by. But we didn�t like any of them and ended up nickel and diming the certificate away on things such as salad spinners, colorful picnic ware (for all those picnics we take), a silver penguin bottle stopper, a lime green cutting board and an apple corer. I mean, how sad is that? That�s the crime of gift certificates � you get one and suddenly you find yourself picking up stuff you would never actually spend cold, hard cash on. After that we hit up Nordstroms because thanks to my financial aid check (most of which his going to pay off some bills) I am suddenly acting like I have money. I don�t really but goddamn it�s BACK-TO-SCHOOL time and I DID need a new backpack and Paul Frank has a cute one. I got a good glimpse of the future though while there however. As I browsed through racks of ruffled tops and ass-leaked jeans (just looking for fun and horror, you know) I found myself rubbing elbows with a woman who was at least 45 if she was a day over 15. Now listen, some of my best friends are 45 but this woman was a sight to see. She thought she was Gwen Stefani or something. Died blonde hair cut into bangs and pulled into a girlish ponytail. Sleeveless �Miss Kitty� t-shirt and red plaid pants. Glittery eye shadow. And standing there I saw a vision of myself 13-15 years from now. Me � someone�s mom or something trying to look like I�m still 15 and shopping the junior�s department at Nordstrom�s. Well fuck it. If that�s what it�s gonna be than that�s what it�s gonna be because I�m never stepping foot into Eddie Bauer and Banana Republic won�t have me. So more power to her � and to my future me. After that we hit up Target where I did find a cute reading lamp and then it was on to home for a nap, dinner (Indian food) and homework. Oh yes. Homework. It has begun. In full-force. In addition to the shit load of reading I must do I�ve got to schedule some serious writing time of the no-hooked-up-to-the-Internet variety. This means I�ll be lugging my laptop to some caf� or library, putting on my headphones and forcing myself to think, think think without the distractions of the television, phone, or Internet. Aside from the distraction of people-watching, I�m hoping it will work. Ugh. OK. Breathe. One week down, 15 to go. Hmmm�in other news. Got an e-mail from my dad�s sister the other day. Out of the freaking blue. Haven�t talked to her in probably five years. It was a sweet letter full of family news that made me actually feel wistful as if I might actually have this family over there. And I guess I do - it just doesn�t include my father. Thinking about it is weird. I look just like aunt � only 18 years younger � to the point that people used to confuse the two of us when I was a teenager. I look just like my dad too. I see it most clearly when I look at pictures of myself when I was a child. I have his eyes, his expression, his smile � everything. Over here in California I look like no one. I am the only brunette in a sea of blondes. The only brown eyes among the blue. So � even though I am so emotionally removed from everyone over there, it�s sometimes comforting to recognize the physical link. It�s a reminder that I come from someplace - that I didn�t just appear here magically � dropped off by the stork or the Goodwill Baby Pilot or whatever. I guess I better get to work � these four day work weeks are beginning to grow on me, in a bad way. Time to get the lead out. 11:27 am - 09.03.02
sounds: the M00ney $uzuki ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- previously on ... - next time on ...
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