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11:48pm
EST
Look, it's christa! back from the dead! er, I mean Wisconsin.
no
no, I kid. I mean, yes I am back from WI, but being there isn't
like being dead, not at all. it's way better than that. not that
I actually know what being dead is like. but it doesn't matter.
never mind.
what
matters is that I had a grand time. Rather uneventful, but perfectly
so, if you know what I mean. the driving time was very long. fun
and boring all at once. No real car trouble, but I did get all new
tires at some gas station about three hours into the trip, and then
on the way home some stupid piece of metal from some stupid dumb
truck in front of us flew back and smashed my windshield. glass
flew everywhere and got in my hair and blinded me and I swallowed
some and it shred my esophagus and then it landed in my stomach,
where it grew into a glass tree and I ended up having glass babies.
lack
of sleep makes you crazy.
seriously
though, a piece of metal did fly back and cracked my windshield.
Not cracked, smashed. we had to pull over and call the glass guys
("we're the guys in the little red trucks!" as their yellow
page ad said, although I have to tell you--their little red truck
was not little) and David, who was actually quite cute, came and
took away my old windshield and put on a nice new shiny pretty clean
one.
I
saw lots of family, but not as much family as I thought. I was told
that this year was the big reunion, that everyone was gonna be there.
Whoever told me that lied. I mean, there were people there, but
not EVERYONE and I didn't see a lot of people. And I was only there
for two days so I didn't get to do too much. I did go to my uncle's
farm and I am just so madly in love with that life. I really am.
I told Chuck (my uncle) that next summer I was coming over and working
for him on his farm. He didn't believe me. No one believed me. Understandable.
But I shall prove them wrong! oh yes!
there
are lots of things I think I want to talk about, but I am not thinking
so clear and I don't feel like talking about it all and stuff. I
will later maybe. Or maybe I won't, I don't really know. It's all
stuff no one really cares about but me anyway.
one
of the nicest parts of the trip was being sober for an entire weekend.
Not spending my friday, saturday and sunday nights in some bar,
drinking. Not getting stoned. Not trying to impress some dumb guy.
Not worrying about sex or love or boys or any of that. I tell you,
it was so goddamned nice. I would say that WI cleared my head, refreshed
my soul, but it will take more than a few days away for that to
happen. But it is certainly a start. I didn't want to leave. I didn't
want to leave my family and I didn't want to leave Wisconsin and
I didn't want to leave my uncle's farm. I didn't want to leave but
I had to. You know, I have a feeling that if Neila hadn't come along,
I probably would have stayed. Maybe not for too much longer, but
who knows. I just felt so at home.
my
mom and sister were telling me a story about when I was a little
kid, in kindergarten. My mom said that one day she drove me to school
and dropped me off, watched me get out of the car and walk inside
the building. And then I guess I decided to forget about school.
So I left and walked all the way home (which I guess was relatively
far for a five-year-old) and got our two dogs (bambi and tiffany--oh
my god I just realized what porn names our dogs had) and started
walking back to school or something. Some guy saw me I guess and
called the police. So a policeman came and got me and then managed
to find my mother at her friend's house. Me telling this story isn't
nearly as funny or sweet as hearing it from my family. But I can
just see that little girl, walking along with her two dogs, a little
tiny pomeranian and a big black labrador, thinking her little girl
thoughts, so innocent and so unjaded. It makes me so happy and sad
to think about. I wonder what I had been thinking or planning. I
guess I just wanted the dogs with me.
I
bet that girl--I just bet she was happy. I bet that was before all
the bad stuff started happening, when I still carried around that
untouched, sacred part of me. There's a quote by Emerson that talks
about travelling the world over to find the beautiful, but "we
must carry it with us or we will find it not". for some reason,
thinking about me and this story my mom told me, I think of that
quote. It makes me think that back then I did carry the beautiful.
I had it within me, back when I was five. I had it and then it was
taken away from me and now I am frantically searching for it again
and I keep not finding it and I want to go back, I just want to
go back, go back to her, be her again, put my arms around her, take
care of her and protect her and keep her safe and, and...I don't
know. I just want to go back and be that little girl again, walking
down the road with my dogs.
It
just keeps getting later and later and I need to go to bed now and
sleep.
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