2001-05-14 :: 2:58 a.m.

oh, family!

Soundtrack: Pierre Henry and Michel Colombier, M�tamorphose: Messe Pour Le Temps Pr�sent

So, I just got off the phone to my sister and my mom (Dad's off in California visiting his uncle). It made me remember funny things about laundry and being a social floater/outsider in high school and why I still have to translate how my parents feel to my sister and vice versa. I still recall Mom's emotional talk to me in the basement after some kind of "give me some freedom dammit!" disagreement; that really showed me why their illogical over-protection is the way it is. When I hear the sister complaining about how she wants out, I think to myself about what having kids would/will be like. Will I be so quick to give the freedom I recommend my parents fork over (as small as it seems now)? I wonder if I'll sit my kids down in the basement and have to pound my justifications for my seemingly irrational behavior into them with tears and a calm voice.

Tonight I walked over to the cousins for dinner, listening to this freshly-purchased CD (Métamorphose, bought with $AU10 & a refund on The Tessaract, because Caz is a truly lost cause). It was a lovely soundtrack to the streets of Melbourne. The bells in "Psych� Rock" are so simple, but they make me feel like the cars are marching in formation, and every step I take is placed just as it should be on the sidewalk. (Aphex Twin is sort of a similar thing, but it's more internal, like I can feel my brain ticking.) I couldn't help smiling as the bells gonged away along with the slippery beats in my headphones; it was a feeling music hadn't brought to me in a while.

But I was talking about the cousins. After dinner I showed the family photos to them (as well as the skydive video), and it was the first time I'd seen my immediate family's faces in a bit, so it sentimentally coincided nicely with a Mother's Day phone call. I don't really write much about my family or friends back home, but they are really the only things I miss about the States. I occasionally miss little shards of places -- even the temperamental weather back at school (schizoid rain) -- but certainly not at any level that would make me want to return. I do miss them though, the people, I miss them much more than the amount of discussion here would indicate.

So dinner was as good as I surmised: chicken soup touched that shriveled-from-no-home-cooking part of my soul. And I had chopped liver -- which isn't exactly something I'd normally find myself ordering or eating ever -- but it was really quite good, and I told as much to Cecilia as I helped myself numerous times. It was so nice to have a family meal laced with red wine and funny stories and lots of laughs.

Good news: I maybe maybe maybe have a job when I go back home, even for the less-than-two-months I'll have available. I just have to update my resume and make sure I can live in my apartment (the one I'll have for the school year) and commute by bus.

Bad news: I did not do the essay yet again. (Haha!)

Time to print my story for workshop tomorrow and crash.