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2005-09-11 @ 9:11 p.m. |
I�m really glad to be back living in the Village. I love the Village. Its like the quintessential New England enclave with beautifully kept houses, impeccably maintained gardens and enough history to choke a horse. An American president was born here and raised two streets over. The corner where I turn to get home is the house where some famous suffragette lived in the late 1800�s. We were just voted one of the 100 Best Places in America to Live (I guess the 900� of snow we get every winter was somehow overlooked). And I love walking around this town. It�s a little hilly, but the houses are nice to look at, the gardens are spectacular and I, of course, am hoping against all odds, that some single guy with a big ornate Queen Anne House and a Volvo, will somehow see me walk by and fall totally in love. I did see a woodchuck yesterday when I was walking. When he saw me, he stopped, we looked at each other in utter amazement, like WTF -- and then he ran under some hydrangeas. And that�s about how my love life is going. Woodchucks running in fear. Whee! Today was a particularly nice day. It did take me a while to get out there though. My mom called around 1 p.m. and at 3 we were still talking. Although let me correct that. SHE was still talking. I was merely lying in a semi-vegetative state letting Guardcat bite my elbow for entertainment. Because as much as I like to write, she likes to talk. I guess my brother Guido Obnoxious, who also lives in the Village (thankfully his presence didn�t knock us off the 100 Best Places to Live) wrote her another �You were a rotten mother� manifesto this morning. Well, yeah, she was, but you really can�t go back and change that can you? I do see many of his points and have tried explaining them to her, but she just refuses to take even .0001% of responsibility for anything. I think if just once she would say, �You�re right Guido. I screwed up on that part�, he would probably never bring that stuff up again or not as frequently. But she won�t because she�s in denial. And he�s a hard head. And tra la! We�re just one big ol� dysfunctional family. Yay us! But like Guido, I did wish for that idyllic �Father Knows Best� thing. But instead, we now are both cursed with the �I wish I had HAD a nice mom and dad, but now its too late, so we have to be bitter and lash out at everyone� thing. I did live vicariously through Married Guy for those 5 years. And he knew it, because he was always inviting me to be �part of the family�. In one way it was very thoughtful of him, because he knew of my intense yearning to be part of a happy family scenario. But on the other hand, it was incredibly cruel, because theoretically, he knew, deep down, that I would never be part of HIS family because he was married. It was like holding a big, juicy steak in front of somebody who was starving and then yanking it out of their reach just as they were about to take a bite. It was confusing and frustrating, yet I still kept jumping for it everytime he dangled it. Sometimes I even wondered if I was even in love with Married Guy or whether I was just in love with the idea of having a ready made family. I guess it just depended on which day it was hormonally, or whether he massaged me the right way. So them having their little bi-monthly spat prevented me from being able to call him over to hook up my DVD player. I mean I�ve had that damn thing for a year and a half and have yet to figure out what plugs into what (kinda like my love life). I can get sound, but I can�t get an image and since my brother is a genius, A GENIUS I TELL YOU (well, those might possibly be HIS words) about plugging wires into things (long story), I�m guessing that I will probably be going another six months DVD-less. And I really wanted to see �Neverland� too. So I took to the streets of the Village this afternoon. I hadn�t really walked around since I got back. I had previously lived here for 4 years. It has really got the yuppie make-over downtown. Gone are the laundry-matt and video store. In its place is a zen-based karate place. The old mom and pop store is now a high end furniture store. And women�s shoe stores? My god, this town is only three blocks long and there are like 3 stores with $400 women�s shoes available. Is that normal? We also got our very own Starbucks. Oh the thrill! The ecstacy! And across the street is another frou frou coffee shop called the Freedom of Expressso. So dueling caffeine outlets. No wonder all the men here are so hyper. They just drive up in their SUVs and hook in their gold-plated java IV�s for a couple minutes and then they�re off. But there are no bakeries anywhere! What? My old Eye-talian neighborhood, they were on every corner, manned by old 300 lb. Eye-talian women with mustaches. Here? None! I don�t drink coffee. No wonder I�ve been feeling out of sorts. But that aside, I really think the thing I like the most when I walk through the streets of the Village is the fact that it is about 99% family homes. I like to walk along and imagine what it would be like to be the female half of a yuppie couple with a house full of shabby chic-a-ree and kids sitting in the living room watching educational videos about self esteem and art. And of course, down in the basement there would be a bunch of Anti-War and Defeat Bush signs from the last election and from when we marched on Washington a few years ago to show our kids how democracy works (heh, so much for that!). Actually to be honest, and thinking back, that was pretty much an average day at Married Guy�s house. Even the shabby chic part. And I guess I have to admit I was really enamored with his life style and him and wanted to somehow be near it again. I mean, I love the Village and all. And its a great place to walk, its safe, its pretty, not to mention Democratic, but I really wanted to be on this side of town for another reason. I think I�m just too scared to admit why. Older Entries |
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty |
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