overload[ing]

woof, what a couple of weeks.
everything is packed in pretty tight. cracking almost.

i feel like ive been driving EVERYWHERE. my car is racking up miles and adjusting to having a person in her constantly. we know each other by touch now, she turns with a thought, and i feed her and feed her and feed her till my pockets rip and the gas station attendant knows my full name and social security number. its not a terrible thing. its the restless i need out now what are you doing oh you need a ride sure kinda thing i get when im feeling needy and anxious. my back is sore but ive learned that stopping just right is a back stretch inertia style. trips across town are always exciting. in case you dont know i am stephanie proud owner of a car but not of a license. (riding durty) breaking the law is easier when you have a car full of people and a city full of cops. vroom.

painting has been frustrating. ive been knocking out pieces but a week ago i stopped. the flow stopped. i have sketches and fancy tools i want to try out but my brain seems crippled under stress, or the coffee the constant coffee, or the fact that the insomnia is back. all night i watch law and order SVU and read and walk by the leaning canvasses and brushes but when i sit and set up and decide im going to do this it just fails. blah ive never been so frantic to just have an idea. but something in there tells me its all been done, and how creative can you be on an art budget not fit for a kindergarten class, etc. this better pass.... yes?

the boy i live with is an alien. hes the hardest person to understand in the entire world. ive never met someone who loves to be with me so much but hates to be around the people i know. he just clams up, closes down, pulls away and its a terrible feeling to watch him fail every first impression when it comes to the others i hold dear in my life. like a double life its just too much to cottle everyone. thats the overall feeling i guess when it comes to people right now. i mean friends are nice but seriously needy. more so than me. i find myself wandering through them week to week throwing myself around the city and calling and calling to schedule and confirm. im exhausted. and the days are far and few that i can just sit and have someone come to me. someone visit me here, and ask me how im doing. its not terrible work though, loving them. they are a great group. but i want to be needy too. im so good at it.

i miss my mom, she should come home already.

i really wish i had a small dog. like a weenie or a little orange terrier (hah like the one next door i sneak treats to) i need a cuddle buddy.

everything else is cake. right. no, its a massive overdose of what the fuck.

i just want to move to california, show my art in the city, live in the mountains, take a pretty girl as a lover and retire.

perfection. [want]

gotta go.

never really.... you know

called my folks today after months of being out of the loop with them. i hear my dad answer the phone. with his tired voice he says "hola?" totally not like him, they must miss me. cute. i ask him questions he barks back, in the backround i can hear my mom trying to grab the phone from him with her chatter already starting, a smile forms on my lips and im a little there with them. in the kitchen like i know they are, standing there in a comical display while she dances around him. he tells me about the animals [me and my dad are a little too alike in a little too many ways] speaking of them like their my siblings. finally with a "jeezus lourdes here!" he hands my mom the phone and the torrent starts. even duane sitting next to me cant help but laugh a little at the rush of words coming from this asian spitfire. shes going on about california. you better come stephanie, we got a hotel and your grandmas rented a bus and we have the hotel rooms already and your coming right? we miss you. you never call anymore. what are you doing? how is work. whatever happened to that guy you were... what bobby? oh never mind. and im just left with all the gaps going yes mom, im fine mom, im sorry mom, ok mom, ok mom, ok mom, yes mom. fucking hell it was damn exhausting, but thoroughly heartening. they are such a fucking pair those two. my mind here takes me back to the remarks about them being sewn together at the fingertips, unable to get away from each other, and maybe now that i dwell, it may not be to much of a bad thing. my dad may be no devoted husband and she may be no easy partner but they really may love each other. somewhere, even if its only for me. i kind of miss them now. ive been so clinically dependant on them my whole life it seems. though we were anything but close. through all the timeline content and all the horrible passing words. despite all the times ive washed my hands of them, and all the times ive gotten my things and left them shouting behind me as i drove and fell into the night. the suspensions and the habits, and all their own dramatic goings on. ive never really turned away from them long enough for them to believe it and never let myself get far enough to be anything but a phone call and a quick drive their weird speeches and awkward hugs. my rents. my daddy and reluctant step mother. each with their own charms and funny stories. i can wipe every bad thing away for the moments they lose track of being assholes and fall back into the people taking care of one fucked up girl. its the times i remember i think. the times weve been through, being a member of the barron clan is more of being a battle buddy than being a relative. weve fought hard together, and even though we trun our bayonets to each others throats [most times more than just a ploy to confuse the enemy] we can still hold each other in the emergency rooms and flush the pills down the toilet with the best of intentions. i would have killed to be in any other place when i was younger [and much stupider] but now im just glad i didnt shoot myself in the foot like i had planned. and yes it hurts that one of our members os gone. but this is when im the most glad for the the strange pair. robert and lourdes. god. its fucking wacky. when they say youll come to appreciate your parents and your in high school uncaring and wearing the stupidest shit you can imagine, all cut up and half high all the time, and all you can say back is "fuck that"....you never think. and now i see what they mean. funny world. they drove me out, but now im on my own two feet. now im making it. now i get it.

if my parents had a myspace they would comment on this. heres what they would say.

Dad:
ay. take some money.

Mom:
you better not be sleeping with any boys. or drinking. i know you are. i swear stephanie. and why dont you try to go back to school. and are you coming to california?



sigh.