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_________________ 9 06 pm pst [ a long drive ] Matthew's mum and dad sat in the front seat, and he and I sat in the back. We'd woken up quite early, so we were both sullen with sleepiness. I'm bad at sleeping in the car, but I got a good stint in today. I can't read because I get car sick, so when Matthew tired of chatting with me, I took my camera to the road. The images reminded me so profoundly of my drive across the country with my mother. That adventure seems so long ago and yet the images are still fresh in my mind. We have such an enormously empty country -- a concept it is so easy for me to forget living in Los Angeles, New York, and the bay area...
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I wonder if I could live in one of these little towns that caters to passing through traffic. I wonder how each and every person wound up there. I wonder how many generations of their children will stay there. I wonder how many generations of parents have already been there. Would they tell me if I asked? Would they guard such information as priceless jewels? I wonder how I wound up so intensely fascinated by pople. I understand why we all know ourselves so well. I know that we are each the center of our own personal universes. But I meet so many people who don't find others especially interesting and don't especially want to share with me. I can't understand it. Our diversity is what makes life so magnificently rich. As I am quite fond of saying, variety is the spice of life.
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There are so many cars on the road. How many are going to Vegas like us? The road was empty last night, at 1 20 am after Thanksgiving. It took me fifteen minutes to get from my dad's house on the west side to his parents' place in the valley. I was petrified that my car was going to die on the road. I was driving fast and my car was not responding well. I didn't sound good. It didn't feel good. It made me uncomfortable and hyper-aware. I will put more oil in my car and pray that it holds out until I move. I don't want a new car. I hope I can get away with no car in the bay area. I hope I find a swank job and that I carpool to work. I hope I ccan walk to the market. I hope my friends won't mind picking me up. I wish I could be like Jessica Fletcher on Murder She Wrote and be cool for not driving. Then gentlemen could offer me rides and I could request taxis and just be a non-driving individual.
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Matthew loves to drive. I love for him to drive me. It is a perfect arrangement. His father drove today. I asked him to tilt the seat an inch up. He tilted it several inches. I asked, "Is that comfortable?" He answered, "It was confortable where it was." I replied, "Ok, I'm done trying to be polite," and we left it at that. I'm a very short person, and I don't need very much leg room at all, but this was ridiculous. I am not thankful when people are unappreciative of my effort to make both of us happy. When my mother met my dad at 19, she didn't know how to drive. He taught her. He also taught her to cook and swim. I can't imagine what it would be like to be that inexperienced and to learn so many life lessons from your romantic interest instead of your parents. I would guess that could be quite a wonderful exprience unless you felt overly criticized.
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We're staying at Motel 6. When we pulled into the parking lot, we stopped next to a car which read WAZZ UP BIATCH? above the tire. A young woman ended up driving the car away, with an attractive young man in the driver's seat. I had assumed that a man would be driving such a car. I can't quite imagine what would possess someone to put said lettering on one's car. I'd paint my car with some pattern. I'd cover it in stripes, or polka-dots, or creeping vines. Maybe I could paint some bizarre mural. Of course, this is all moot since I don't intend on owning a car anytime soon. Anyway, Matthew and I are settled in our room with two double beds. He hung up my dresses for me; he likes to get everything in order. I laid in the bed and giggled in my drowsiness. I hope this weekend will be a good one...
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3 years ago today: Matthew didn't say a word about it, and of course I had to take his silence as disapproval (yes, I know I am a 'nutcase', as my Mom would say) so I took it off and stuck it in my pocket about fifteen minutes into the evening. 2 years ago today: Today I head for LA... 1 year ago today: The tall buildings that flood New York insure that, while it may be sunny out, you don't have the sun shining on you at all times. It was a delight to come home to a bright blue sky! * * * << yesterday | |
