Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters
socratic

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Well you know and I know woman, I ain't the one

I went to the country with only my mother on Saturday and I had a surprisingly meaningful time up there. I had forgotten how pleasurable fresh air alone can be. We went up Saturday afternoon and it was snowing pretty heavily. The ride was not all that pleasant since my mom insisted on listening to this AMAZINGLY insipid opera program on the radio where you could just SEE the hosts adjusting their ascots and drinking snifters of brandy in between INCREDIBLY insider opera jokes (such as "I love the high voices, if there was a Canary Addicts Annonymous group I'd be the first one to sign up")

Once we got up there it was pretty emotional seeing the old house again, covered in snow. That place is a minefield of memories for me, especially about my father, and especially with snow. I remember our skiing trips, just him and me and a mountain called Jimminy. Snow on the house brought it all flooding back, but in an oddly faded and distant form, so it wasn't so painful. I was able to go in and be in the house without his ghost haunting me.

I spent of most saturday afternoon after we arrived listening to the Eagles-Bears game on the radio until my mom asked me to go with her to her friend Fran's house. Fran has direct TV so I figured I'd go and either spend time talking to the people there (Including Betsy and David, a rich couple I don't really like who have a son I used to be friends with, and their daughter Elsbeth who was a childhood enemy) or just watch the pats-raiders game. Well one of the people there turned out to be a woman with the most annoying laugh on the face of the earth. More of a cackle really. I was going to force myself to tolerate it, because it wasn't really her fault that her laugh is like a punch in the gut, but then she mentioned that our hostesses brother and sister had both had a heart attack and chuckled afterwards. There went any good will towards a human. I hightailed it upstairs to watch the game as soon as was at all polite, first asking Fran if she needed any help with anything and resetting the clock on her microwave. Once there I ended up sitting on the floor with a splitting headache and a hungry stomach since I felt that once I left the conversation area for the game it would be rude to go down and partake of the dinner. It was not a pleasant night, especially driving around in a snowstorm with my mother who almost drove off the road multiple times and yelled at me when I suggested that she not do so.

This morning I woke up in my childhood bed and looked out the window with wonder at what a snowfall in a rural setting looks like. It is incredible. Trees coated in glistening white powder, a road with a single, old car rumbling down it. The sheer LIGHT of the sun unobscured by smog or skyscraper. I had an urge to run outside and shovel the snow out of the driveway, like a real rural 20 year old home from college. I did and it was a great release of stress, just to pull the shovel out of the shed and send cascade of now after cascade of snow into the woods around the entrance to our property. There's something about a blanket of snow that belongs to YOU and is yours to defile, change, play with, or leave be as it suits you, that is WONDERFUL. After I finished shoveling the drive (and a path to the front door and then one from the door to the porch) I went out and made a snow angel even though I didn't have any snow clothes. I got wet and cold and happy. I spent the rest of the day watching football/anime,. playing video games, and intermitantly going out into the snow to take a sled ride down a hill or just admire the beautiful sky. It was not an overly efficeint use of my limited country time, but it was nonetheless WONDERFUL. Next time I will bring snow clothes. I definitly felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders when I was there. Stress and worries about school and everything else sort of melted away into the snow and I was in a small town with nobody around and a beautiful blanket of fresh snow to play with.

*sigh* I wish I could have stayed longer. I only got a brief look at the clear, crisp sky with stars and moon blazing like they NEVER do in the city. I must get back there ASAP. I think that spending more time away from the city and confronting my old life is the best route to escape the grayness and go to greenland. It is the only one I've tried recently that had immediate effects. I can't even fully explain the transformation I felt while I was there, but suffice it to say I managed to really feel like my old self. Like a PERSON....a HUMAN...a man with a past a preset and a future instead of a prisoner serving out his sentence in the cell of Academia. Some students live abroad for a semester I should spend a semester in a rural setting. The country air agrees with me and the privacy is wonderful.

I need to learn to drive.

I should also mention for my faithful readers (crickets chirping) that Erin did respond to me and suggested we get together today or tomorrow. Since today is obviously over I sent her an email that tomorrow would be fine. I'll see if she responds and we actually end up doing something, although I am not pleased with the quality of my email because it was not up to my usual exacting standards. The thing is that at this point the whole situation has been such a STUPID protracted POINTLESS roller-coaster on my part I almost wish it was over. Like ripping off a band-aid, quick and it's over. I almost want her to just ignore me and let the whole issue rest. But I keep picking at it and it hasn't gone away. So we'll see, we shall see. Anyway I guess I should warn you that this journal might not be E free just yet. Not just yet.

Now I'm off to read that book so we'll have something to talk about. I just realized how little we have in common except for a sense of humor and some sort of strange chemistry thing.

Somebody shoot me. No, not you Jing. Not you.
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 3 comments