Totally drained and weirdly depressed
Exhausted, with hair straightened, barely any family recognized me (not that different with straight hair?) must be a combo of fatigue and reading Jenna Jameson's auto biography on amtrak home? God those porn star stripper meth-heads memoirs are so fucking depressing.
In all, an exhausting four days. I'm actually kind of miserable. All pre-wedding energy was geared into keeping Jane calm, so father's mention of global anti-semitism or the miserable failure of Olmert were silenced tensely amidst grumbles. Watching Jane's body stiffen in stress and me figure out a way to go into overdrive to allow her muscles to relax was like being on high alert for nuclear meltdown. The theme of the weekend: "X and Z" xanax and zen. Oh my god.
Wedding went off very nicely -- Jane was simply stunning, absolutely gorgeous. Beautiful subtle make up, gorgeous dress, orchids in hair, really, my parents are thrilled and exhausted. The rabbi forgot to mention my existence during the ceremony... first cousins think I'm whining about that one, but middle child syndrome was highlighted and underlined in those few minutes. Husband and Wife will be honeymooning soon and are deeply in love, and that is very good.
My melancholy depression hit me as the lonely little amtrak whistle blew on my over air conditioned rumbling Jersey locked train. I'm not heading off on some fantastic voyage, no trunks, no trains, no boats, no African coast looming. Just Chelsea (but oh rainy 19th street smelled like freedom), just me and my work. Which is great, and by my choice -- in order to hunker down and get the mother fucker done, but I feel a little landlocked. And ooh, now the burly construction men are drilling a new condo just doors down from my crumbling little walk up. Why? It is a humid and rainy Sunday. Can't you just be quiet and let me unwind, ie. mope?
Just ordered some Thai food, old school comfort (coconut soup) and will stare at the walls until I figure out exactly what I need to do with myself now.
If I were Jenna, I'd smoke some meth and fight with my biker boyfriend... hm... too lazy to do yoga, wanted to buy a new DVD so I could vegitate and watch tv, but could only manage to lug bag home in rain, no trip to the electronic store in my future. Tomorrow.
Thai food just came (sort of) there was this knocking on my door. No one at the peep hole. Knocking more, thought it was hammering from upstairs. No one at the peep hole. Finally realized it was a guy at my door, but the guy could not tell me what restaurant he was from or who he was. Called the restaurant and they confirmed that my delivery had gone out. I said you need to tell the motherfuckers that show up at people's door where they are showing up from. Open the door he is tiny! Does not come up to the peephole and had no change and was weird and putting his little fucking leg into my apartment. We had no change, handed him back his food and sent him on his way. Don't want him to get in trouble, but he should show up with change, don't want to open the door for a stranger and don't like the feeling of low level panic that rises in me when something like this happens. As if I couldn't kick that man's ass bare foot or in heels, but its that tight knot fear feeling that makes me feel so vulnerable.
Whole experience left me uncomfortable, near tears and HUNGRY.
ugh.
In all, an exhausting four days. I'm actually kind of miserable. All pre-wedding energy was geared into keeping Jane calm, so father's mention of global anti-semitism or the miserable failure of Olmert were silenced tensely amidst grumbles. Watching Jane's body stiffen in stress and me figure out a way to go into overdrive to allow her muscles to relax was like being on high alert for nuclear meltdown. The theme of the weekend: "X and Z" xanax and zen. Oh my god.
Wedding went off very nicely -- Jane was simply stunning, absolutely gorgeous. Beautiful subtle make up, gorgeous dress, orchids in hair, really, my parents are thrilled and exhausted. The rabbi forgot to mention my existence during the ceremony... first cousins think I'm whining about that one, but middle child syndrome was highlighted and underlined in those few minutes. Husband and Wife will be honeymooning soon and are deeply in love, and that is very good.
My melancholy depression hit me as the lonely little amtrak whistle blew on my over air conditioned rumbling Jersey locked train. I'm not heading off on some fantastic voyage, no trunks, no trains, no boats, no African coast looming. Just Chelsea (but oh rainy 19th street smelled like freedom), just me and my work. Which is great, and by my choice -- in order to hunker down and get the mother fucker done, but I feel a little landlocked. And ooh, now the burly construction men are drilling a new condo just doors down from my crumbling little walk up. Why? It is a humid and rainy Sunday. Can't you just be quiet and let me unwind, ie. mope?
Just ordered some Thai food, old school comfort (coconut soup) and will stare at the walls until I figure out exactly what I need to do with myself now.
If I were Jenna, I'd smoke some meth and fight with my biker boyfriend... hm... too lazy to do yoga, wanted to buy a new DVD so I could vegitate and watch tv, but could only manage to lug bag home in rain, no trip to the electronic store in my future. Tomorrow.
Thai food just came (sort of) there was this knocking on my door. No one at the peep hole. Knocking more, thought it was hammering from upstairs. No one at the peep hole. Finally realized it was a guy at my door, but the guy could not tell me what restaurant he was from or who he was. Called the restaurant and they confirmed that my delivery had gone out. I said you need to tell the motherfuckers that show up at people's door where they are showing up from. Open the door he is tiny! Does not come up to the peephole and had no change and was weird and putting his little fucking leg into my apartment. We had no change, handed him back his food and sent him on his way. Don't want him to get in trouble, but he should show up with change, don't want to open the door for a stranger and don't like the feeling of low level panic that rises in me when something like this happens. As if I couldn't kick that man's ass bare foot or in heels, but its that tight knot fear feeling that makes me feel so vulnerable.
Whole experience left me uncomfortable, near tears and HUNGRY.
ugh.
posted by No Longer Active at 2:45 PM
2 Comments:
Sending you a big hug. Is there a good day to call you this week?
would be great to talk! wed?
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