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[22 Nov 2001|09:54pm] |
So: Harry Potter twice now. Learning how to talk about Thanksgiving food in two languages. Rather irresponsible about registration: Finnish and Intro. to Phonetics and, um, Modern/Post-Modern Literature because I want to read A Portrait of the Artist As A Young Man again, and in a classroom this time, and I really need science credits but fuck it.
I have kind of been enjoying the lack of computer access, despite the gross inconvenience of it all. And yesterday out of boredom I was driven to go buy a Whiskeytown cd and a book of poems by Rainer Maria Rilke, and those are two very good things. I also gave myself a haircut last night that, incredibly, looks okay. I've been talking to myself a lot the past few days, though.
It was just my mother and my brother and me at dinner tonight. But we got an e-mail from my dad. My mom thought my grandmother might have been alone tonight, but it turns out her boyfriend(?) cooked a twenty-three pound turkey for her. In French on Tuesday, people in class were saying they were having dinner with aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins and it's been so long since I've had anything like that, that I barely remember it. There's a picture of me standing next to my grandfather who died in 1987 in here, and I barely remember that man and it's so strange that there's actually a picture of me standing with my hand on his shoulder. My most vivid memory of him isn't even of him; it's my grandmother calling in the morning to tell us that he'd died (the anniversary of his death is yesterday or today, I think). We were sitting around the dining room table, and my dad was the only one who went to the funeral. I know that at the time I understood what happened, but I don't remember being sad about it at all, and I've always felt so terrible about that.
Anyway.
Dreams I have had recently: My mother and my brother and I drove to Omaha, except it wasn't really far away, and I knew where everything was as if I'd been there before. It was a lovely city. Later, in the same dream, my father and his brother were in one car, and my mother and I were in another, and we were driving to the mountains, except they weren't really mountains. They were the hills of southern California, which I thought were mountains when I was a child, and I was so happy to be going back there. Then, a night or two ago, I had a dream that I had a boyfriend who seemed nice, but after a while I realized he was really inappropriately old. He introduced me to his friends, and one looked like Billy Bob Thornton. They were all eating candy bars and smoking cigarettes. I was still in high school, I think, but friends with Callie, and after I started going out with this guy, she stopped talking to me. I couldn't tell if it was because she was mad that I had a boyfriend, or if it was that my boyfriend was creepy. So for the rest of the dream, she and our other friends wouldn't talk to me, and we had to sit down in a gymnasium and watch some sort of patriotic school assembly.
(For not missing the internet, this is sort of a long entry, I guess.)
I've decided that I'm altogether too morbid, and that it's probably unhealthy and maybe I should do something about it. Or it's just November. Or both. I don't know.
And I've been sitting here way too long and I don't want to spell-check or edit. And if I happen to owe you an e-mail, I promise I'll reply soon.
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