I don't know what the true circumstances of my birth are. My birth-mother has told too many different stories to too many people. The story she's been sticking to for the last ten years is that she was raped. She amended it to date rape but won't tell me one single piece of information about the man who fathered me. It's worked out perfectly for her considering that she doesn't want to have anything to do with me, and wants to keep my half siblings from knowing or contacting me. Who would want to have contact with a half-sister who is the daughter of someone who raped your mother? Heartbreak.
It's no wonder I want to live in a television fantasy family world. No wonder I dream at night of being a member of The Osbournes. I so yearn for connection and family, for a real sense of place and belonging. For connection with people who are loving and kind.
I had the phone interview today with the writer for the Mary Engelbreit Magazine article. Her name is Ann Wilson and she's nice and sharp, easy to like and open up to. It was fun and challenging. It's hard to put everything about your home and your life into a kind of word capsule that a writer can pick through and find shiny quotes to use from. She said that the story, that will be coming out in the May issue(?) is ten pages long. That was exciting to hear.
Little Jorge, Irma's son, got in trouble at school today, and since they couldn't reach Irma, because her cell phone had been disconnected, they called me. He's a handful, this little guy. He got two behavior warning cards before lunch and then got into a fight with another kid who pushed him down in the mud, at which point, Jorge decided he'd had enough of this whole school thing and decided he was going home. I think his teacher had had enough of the whole Jorge thing as well, because she practically begged me to come and take him away.
I went and picked him up and since I was there I got Jacky and Monica too and then we all went and got Beau and had bagels and Jamba Juice fruit shakes. I love being with the kids. Although Jorge did scream at Jacky once in the car and it was so sudden and so loud it made me swerve the car. He was mad at her because being the good big sister she is, she was telling him that he needs to behave better in school and bla bla bla, and he just suddenly had enough of that and barked out this sharp yell and covered his head with his backpack.
I worry about whether my skin itches from dryness or the spread of ringworm. It seems to be getting better though. I gave Lucilla and Sunny baths today. Lucilla was wild and springy, and Sunny just sat there looking wet. He's such a mellow person.
I've been spending so much time in my room that even my cats are getting sick of me. Yesterday I played Animal Crossing for something like nine hours straight, getting up only for my many bathroom breaks. If it weren't for my faulty bladder I never would have left my TV screen. I just had to pay off my loan, and fix up my house, dig up fossils to donate to the museum, trade fruit, catch bugs, and do errands for my neighbors, and there were all of those weeds to be picked. It's that addicting, well, at least for me. I've had to leave that dangerous Game Cube alone today in order to experience a bit of reality. Live in your world, Play in ours, isn't just an advertising slogan to me anymore.
I want to buy one of those sixties aluminum Christmas trees, in pink.
Oh and I love tangerines, who knew?