Hi there.

It will probably be midnight by the time I finish this, or not, but we are supposed to be up and ready by 7am tomorrow, so I figured this would be easier than writing it all out by hand.

My dad is in California. We drove to the airport to pick him up today (N and I). His flight was delayed an hour out of Arkansas, and we got to LAX way early, so we ended up wasting some time in our individual portable techno gadget worlds.
But once his plane landed, N went to wait in the car and I stayed at baggage claim.
I actually... I watched all these people coming through the spinning doors and expected to recognize him the second he came into sight. Well, I didn't, I was looking straight past him, didn't even realize it for a few seconds.
His beard is completely white now, and his hair is cut very short and thin. Otherwise, physically he seemed the same, but his face was different... aged, tired maybe, and flushed. I just didn't even realize it was him.
He commented on my hair and gave me a hug, dropping his bags and going to the bathroom. And I stood there thinking, 'he's really sick'. He came back and I carried one of the bags for him. We walked to the car and left. Traffic was shit getting out of the airport, but dad and N got along very well, talked about some old memories, cars, vacations, etc. So that was good.
Came to the house, D came home, went out to eat, came back to the house, dad and I sat out back and talked about fund raising ideas, came inside so he could return Kim's phone call. Then every one watched the Food Network, la dee da.
Tomorrow N and D leave for Las Vegas early in the morning. That means its me and dad for the next few days, running around. We are planning to catch the first train out of Irvine tomorrow and go to the maritime museum in San Diego. That's the plan at least.
So there, happy birthday, that's today.
I am going outside now.
I am who I am.
La dee da.

-KT

A Poem For N

There once was a girl…
Who had a sweet curl…
And never a care in the world
One fine day
She just ran away
It’s a shame as the Englishmen say

She lives all alone
Never answers the phone
No scolding in sweet baritone
Said she’s alright,
Put out the light
And sleeps quite soundly at night

It’s a shame
We are told
Not a care
In the world
Impedes her solitary stay

An ear to the door
Not a pin hits the floor
No chastising man to adore

It’s a shame
We are told
She’s getting so old
To let ripeness remain unsold

In spite of the strife;
What a lovely wife!
If only she’d submit to a paring knife…

She lives all alone,
Never answers the phone
And refuses to share any throne

It’s a shame;
See that face!
That she wakes
Every day
With no ring to chain her in place

The once was a girl
Who had a sweet curl
That dampness dared to unfurl
She returned in the rain
In the night, hardly sane
Yet no fright to demolish her flame
Soaked to the bone,
She walked all alone
Rather, skipped on her merry way home


It’s a shame,
To be bold;
To walk home all alone,
Happy and in need of a comb

Hell Yea - IBJ
Flow - transister
Radiohead – everything in its right place
The Hives – hate to say I told you so
Strokes – hard to explain
Strokes – Is this it
Strokes – last night
Yoo hoo – Imperial Teen
Hoobastank – to be with you
Fuel – chemicals between us
Busta Rhymes ft. Janet Jackson – what’s it gonna be
311 – Amber
311 – Flowing
Incubus – smoking the herb again
Do or Die – Still Po Pimpin’
Modest Mouse – gravity rides everything
Modest Mouse – 3rd planet from the sun
RHCP – By the way
Alicia Keys – I just wanna rock you


Lee - 5
BTE – desperately wanting
Bloodhound Gang – The Bad Touch
Kittie - brackish
Korn – freak on a leash (remix)
Live – run to the water
Lords of Acid – out comes the evil
NIN – dead souls
No Doubt – Sunday morning
Prodigy – mindfields
Sneaker Pimps – spin, spin sugar
Soundgarden – Black Hole Sun
Stabbing Westward – what do I have to do
Stabbing Westward – sometimes it hurts
Vast – touched

From E-AA

"Yea, you feel alone, and you feel like you want to go partying to be accepted, who the hell doesnt. Just remember that unlike those kids, if you do, you die."

Well, I am having trouble writing by hand for some reason, so I thought I'd at least put some shit on here to elaborate on later... something like that.
I have been so irritable, its rather amazing no living creatures have been harmed.
Lee leaves tomorrow. Hmph. For all my griping, I know it will suck to not have him here. Oh well. I'm distracted and a bitch.
But I haven't deserted my blog. Promise.
I'm leaving now. Bye.
Too out of it.
Must finish "Madame Bovary".
Probably not tonight. Definitely tomorrow.
Enough. Bye now.

-K

Mama and Papa

He may die at 53.
But we have something to worry about much sooner.
The death of a relationship, of a strained relationship. Of a never-changing, fucked up relationship. A father-daughter relationship, in all its splendor and gore.
--
When you have the same problems for this many years... I was trying to do something good- something thoroughly good.
And now, the dream makes far more sense. It isn't the death of my father I need to worry about. It is the death of... making attempts.
We, Lee and I, will never be exactly right- not for him. We aren't those precious little, look-at-them-and-fall-over-with-pride type kids- not to him. To our mother, yes, the majority of the time. To my father, only when everything else is so good he can shed a ray of sunshine on us little twerps, or when its so bad he has no choice but to find us appealing. Call me cruel, fine. Sure I am: he's sick and in pain. Goody, my eyes are filling with tears.
Please. If I thought he wanted me to be informed of his medical condition and its repercussions, I would start mustering up some real pretty grief and emotions. But he doesn't, so I won't. And that's how this relationship works: when its not 8 more years of rejection, even 2 weeks of rejection, then I would gladly stick my head out.
-
Ask me: why am I having this reaction?
Because when I told him I was coming to town, there was this nice pause... And when he spoke again, there was no excitement, enthusiasm, affirmation in his voice. My arrival and caring for me would simply be something else to deal with.
Unfortunately, FOR ONCE, for the first time ever- I was taking care of that. I booked the flight, made the calls, wrote the emails, had arrangements made. For the first time, I thought I could go back there and not fuck up, not be emotional, be really strong for my dad and do good.
Now, there is a part of me that hopes he will be out of town. There is a part of me that wants to cancel. But there is a bigger part that wants to see Cindy and Kristin.
And damn me if while I'm gone, papa dies. Damn me, unless that's how it is supposed to be. Because if this is another, fatal example of my good intentions making things worse, I won't hide the guilt.
-
From here, nothing moves until I hear from my father.
And seeing as how its no longer "some time in the afternoon" and he didn't answer when I called earlier, I'm thinking that nothing is going to be moving for a while.
I'm pissed.
I'm sick of feeling like a burden.
And I'm sick of the continual disappointment of my father's continued ignorance on me, anything to do with me, or my own level of competence. If there was any attempt to make better on this, I wouldn't feel the disappointment.