What is there to say? Bike rides and broken rusted pipes and crushed cans of energy drink on the sides of the road. i bought my summerdress, it's still very tight, but it looks ok. i found it at the thrift for 10$ with the tags still on. I wore it and out on eyeliner and lipstick and i wore my crazy hair tied back tight. I'm beginning to wear it away from my face.. its intersting to see my face now, really look up close at it and see whats been under the layers for so long. I once weighed 320 pounds. No one believes me, and i don't have any pictures really because i refused to be in them at all. there is one, its blurry and I can scan it. I will do that tomorrow. Anyway. I wore my dress and everything was fine, until i opened up my fat insecure mouth and got myself in trouble. I hate fights. My mind gets mixed up and I can't remember why I was mad in the first place so I just cry. And i get on my bike and go..crying all the way up the streets with my dress flying up around me, and my eyeliner running and I think about all the horrible things I say and the way I treat the people I love. Sometimes I can feel the crazy rising up in me. For years pushing it down and away and plastering a smile on my face. I'm a mess. I ride to my friends house and I feel like an intruder but the fan feels good and there is bottle water and I wash my face in the sink and I stop crying about things I can't change.
Today, the doctor tells me nothing, just draws more blood and tells me he will call me with the answer, if there is any. I rode my bike to the office and back, and I notice how much greener all the green is when its up close..i mean you can smell the green of spring in the grass and trees, and when it's hot the shade you roll by refreshes you for the moment with its lush blanket.. I ride slow on the way back, I ride steady and look at every detail of each manicured lawn, half open window with curtains fluttering in and out of the windows. I cut through the park, and a lonely duck cusses at me as I whirl by, I quack back and he flips around and shows me his duck tail ass and dissapears under the lagoon water. The park is desolate, and the streets are being torn apart by big machines and men with hard hats. I wish myself invisible as by now I am huffing and puffing like only a fat girl on a bike can. Finally I give up and hop off the bike and walk it up the incline to the main road. I'm glad that I have taken my time as I look up into the trees and see the squirrles following each other up and down the trunks in spiral staircase fashion, flipping from branch to branch in thier own symphony of movement..so graceful and quiet. The wind is torrential..at least it pushes on me and pulls my bandanna off my head with a great force.. i manage to grab it as it flys behind me..its funny that someone recognises me as i hop back on my bike on the main road..they are yelling from thier balcony.. 'Ohhhpalleeenaaahhh don't get blowwnnn awaaaaay!' and I wave and smile and pedal back home, thankful for water, a half carton of left over pad thai, and a warm sweater on my shoulders.
Last night a power breaker went off and we were out of light for hours. First we sat on the porch and talked to the neighbors that were in the same predicament, then we sat alone and silent, still akward from our argument from earlier that day. It always takes 24 hours before it seems normal again. 24 hours of going thru the motions. cleaning the house, and the dishes and the laundry and doing the things a woman is supposed to do. Subserviant pennance for being out of line, I do this to myself, not one expects it. Its what mom did. It's what I do, and if my daughter pays attention she'll inherit this same bullshit move. I don't know why. I stay out of the way, don't ask for anything. make a stellar meal or two, it makes me feel better. maybe i'm not that crazy, i think, afterall i can run a house ok. i can make a dinner and clean a dirty shirt. control. control. when i ride my bike, i am in control, if i cant pedal i get nowhere. if i pedal fast i can get there quicker. if I pedal slow i can be steady and take my time just for myself. no one leaves the argument before me. control. control. one day i'm going to give up. one day i'm going to let go..it gets so tiring to be in control. and then i end up at my friends house in tears drinking all thier water and slopping up thier sofa with all my snot and tears. This wind is my whirlwind. How would you feel with the wind slapping you around like this all the time? well thats how it feels.
i feel restless like the cat moving from one chair to the next. somehow its all suppossed to get better. i guess i just have to keep on moving in order to find it.
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