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Bruises

Super basic site as yet. I have plans, big huge plans, for this place. Not today, though.

I needed to write here at diaryland but free of those old ghosts.

My mother is due to arrive tomorrow evening. I have to call her back to say this is ok, but I can't stand the thought of ever speaking to her again. Really. She doesn't know this, I think. The reason she doesn't know this is because I haven't told her. The reason I haven't told her is because I don't want to have that conversation because then she will have her hooks in me somehow while we discuss. It's horrible.

Better still, my mother is bringing Dan, the other member of the family I can't bear to be around. He has a court date for the DUI he got back in June when he was staying here. I just want my family gone far away from me. I can't stand that we have this land with them and that we're using their money to build this house and ugh ugh ugh. I want a clean break. I want to move to Seattle. The only ones in my family I ever want to see again are my dad and Shawn.

I'm pressing on all my psychic bruises today for some reason. I'm so lonely here and I can't stand to see The Rest of My Life unfurl in this way.

Here's the deal: my mom finally came clean last month. Oliver doesn't have the same father as me & Dan & Joe. My mother has been keeping this secret for 34 years. My mother. The only thing she could not abide (besides letting us grow up, that is) my whole life was a secret. No secrets allowed was practically the damned family motto--one I always found completely oppressive, mind you. I need to have my own, private and secret inner life. And here, that whole motto was just a big pile of defensive and scared hooey. I don't know quite why this particular revelation has been the final straw for me, but there it is. I'm done done done. And sad.

I'm done with NC, too, I think. I'm just tired of the country. Tired of this sameness, this quiet, this isolation. I want the world to pop a bit, I want to walk down sidewalks and I want to go to the corner store and to be able to get a beer any day of the week without having to drive 30 minutes to do it and to go to a bookstore for the hell of it without any big plan for the day. I'm desperate for someone to hang out with, really. I totally suck at making friends. I'm pretty sure I've made all the real friends I'm ever going to make in my life. So I just have to move in next door to one of them, I guess.

I think someone's at the door but I ain't getting it (back to my old tricks). It's our neighbor who's doing some weed eating for us. Jeff'll pay him later. Oz is sleeping and I better let sleeping babe's lie, I reckon.

So yep. This wasn't the site I'd originally planned--Jeff and I still want to make a daily family journal--but I need a place to dump so here I am.

2:28 p.m. - 2006-08-26

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