MomQuotes: On Drug Policy & American Spirit

Me: [trying to figure out summer travel plans] okay, so, we can all fly out to Amsterdam, and then from there you'll go to Sweden, and I'll either go to Sweden, or Greece.
Sotiri (my 13 year old brother): Will you have magic brownies?
Me: What? Maybe, since it's legal there.
Mom: Yes, Sotiri, we will leave you and Krock [6 year old autistic brother] in the hotel, and your sister and I are going to go smoke out. Yeaaah! [making crazy faces]
Sotiri: What? I want to come!
Mom: [imitating Sotiri] Yeah, uhm, Amsterdam police, I'm taking care of my 6 year old brother... My mom and big sister are high. They're just coming off a bad buzz. [pause] I wonder what Amsterdam prisons are like? [making phone gesture] Um, yes, hi honey... Yes, I don't know where the boys are. Your daughter and I are in a women's holding facility.. Yes, they sent us to rehab.

.....

Mom: You know the Native Americans used to put the drug on a fire, and put a blanket over themselves to inhale the smoke second hand.
Me: Yes, hotboxing.
Mom: Is that what you kids are doing now adays?
Me: I don't do that!
Mom: Yes, peace pipes and hotboxing, connecting with the American roots.
Sotiri: Smell that? That's the smell of freedom.
Me: No, I just farted, sorry.



As an aside, my father brought my little brother a tee shirt from Holland with a large pot leaf on it. He thought it was the national tree of Holland, and was not aware of the drug association, because my father is generally clueless about these things. I would like to mention that my parents are not drug users, and never have been, which is what makes these series of conversations hilarious.

Love and stoplights can be cruel - Sesame Street

And on another adage, sometimes you don't know how much you loved something until you realize you may have lost. Or if you love something, you have to let it go. How can we trust sensations if they can so easily lead us astray? I swore myself to emotional celibacy, and look, for a year, I fulfilled it, and yet I fell for what I thought was a safe situation, and fell right on my face. I despise this cloying desperation, this irrational angst and bitter desire. I want to place blame, but am unsure where to place it: in myself, for trusting too easily, for a faulty gut instinct, for not realizing how badly I had emotionally entangled myself until it was too late, for continuing to grasp, as if just clenching my hand tighter will slow the flow of sand from it? In the other, for poor communication?

Or maybe I really am overreacting. Maybe the unreturned phone calls and gentle let downs are all in my head. Maybe I've just inflated a situation, maybe I'm just going crazy, maybe this longing is just attaching itself to a convenient scapegoat, when what I really hunger for is a sense of self or just.. human touch. Or maybe I'm just making more of a drama mess for myself. Maybe this is all a reflection of finals stress or something. Maybe it's actually all fine, and in a week I will delete this.

All I can remember is reading you a rumi poem and realizing that, for once, I understood it. I'm an idiot.

And I'm not sure why I'm posting these ramblings to the web. Perhaps because I'm tired of burdening my friends with my madness, and if I put them here I can pretend somebody reads them, get them off my chest, and carry on with life.

I always get over this stuff. It just stings.


And now, I drop the drama like the lava rock it is, and refocus: this week's project is.... Planning a trip to the grand canyon for my mom before she leaves the country forever! Alright! Go team distraction!

Pooh Bear

Here is an excellent song, I need to sing it always:

I'm just a little black rain cloud,
Hovering over the honey tree.
I'm just a little black rain cloud,
Pay no attention to little me.

Everyone knows that a rain cloud
never eats honey, no, not a nip.
I'm just floating around over the ground,
wondering where I will drip.

My mom decided this was her theme song of the day today. Now it's stuck in my head, too.

MomQuotes: On Discussing Religion

"Why do people bother talking about what they believe? It's much more interesting to compare religions and demonstrate knowledge about them. Talking about what you believe is like talking about what kind of deodorant you like the best, nobody cares about your B.O. 'Oh, yes, I prefer Charmin ultra-soft toilet paper over Scott tissue!', who cares? It's exquisitely dull! We should discuss how brands of toilet tissue are different! Or have a political debate about social security benefits."

And this is why I love my mother.

MomQuotes: On Desert Survival

Me: Mom, I'm going to the desert. What should I bring?

Mom: [looking up from her book on existentialism] Something everybody can enjoy.

Me: Such as?

Mom: A whoopee cushion. Or a guitar. And sing a song together.

Me: Oh...?

Mom: Or a beast of burden, of any species. Perhaps a small child, or a woman with a basket on her head. Or a small mule, the woman with the basket on her head is a statue.

Me: Oh yes, mom, that's a good idea...?

Mom: Or a nose hair trimmer. And whiskey, to sterilize it. Yes. Or that guy, the one from your class. I have to go rescue your brother from your brother.

Me: .......?

A friend's advice

One day, one of my friends said to me, "Irisi, many years down the road, will you look back on college and think to yourself, 'gee, I wish I had gotten more sleep!'?"

This is a good point.

The past few days

Sunday: 12 hours spent reading about male Childhood Sexual Assault for a paper. 10 page research paper written. Went to bed desiring light and fluffy reading material, at 3am.

Monday: 7am wakeup. Drifted through the day. Got information about international grad programs. Intended to go to club, opted to stay home and sleep.

Tuesday: Picketed from 10am-6pm. http://www.umgeo.org/ Realized picketing is tough work, but quite similar to preistessing. Learned a bunch of new songs. Had anniversary dinner with Miss S at an Ethiopian restaurant. We fed each other, and were excessively mushy. There were a few funny glances, but one of the things I love about this city is that two young women being sweet doesn't faze many people.

Today: Slept in by accident. Now, I devote the day to reading this damn CDL manual.