Friday, September 23, 2005
Play Pretend With Me
Last night I called my father. You know if I'm calling my father...it's gotta be bad. If I were in New York City right now, living in a small apartment, no food, no money, no television, no long distance...I'd probably be okay. That's what you're supposed to do in New York. Kill roaches, eat three-day old Chinese take-out. Even Carrie Bradshaw maxed out credit cards for Manolo's. But this isn't New York City... I'm having a little problem with my finances right now. That is to say, I can't seem to get the funds owed to me to fund the finances that I can't finance...um...yeah. The thing about it is...on the one hand, I really don't care. On the other, I do, so I had to call my father for advice. And now I have to meet him for coffee this weekend to discuss all the parts of my life that I have been determined to keep absolutely private from him and pretty much anybody else. Lovely. And pretty soon, I think I'm going to have to find a new job. Yummy. Maybe it's a turning point. Fantastic. Here's the deal. I'm focused on school, I'm loving the idea that one day I really will be a real-life writer (and that I actually feel like one), I'm looking forward to the season - even telling myself that hannukah gifts will be....creative...this year and it's about the moments not the monetary value. I've come to grips with the fact that I am the grown-up that I am - an imperfect one. An infinitely messy one. I don't really feel like dissecting all that mess & imperfection right now today...okay? "Can we please just pretend that everything is fine?" I ask Rachel earlier in the day. "I'd really like that." She was not very amused. "Okay, but pretending doesn't make it better." She's right. It doesn't. "Do what you can..." my mom says. "Remember that G-d is there for you too." Yeah true. But if I were G-d, there's no way I'd be up there in the great beyond and come down just to clean up a bunch of crap. Nope. I think if I were G-d, I'd be standing there side-by-side with me, arms crossed, a pinched brow and I'd look over at me and say, "Um...your arms broken? You gonna clean that shit up?" Imagine standing in the path of a tornado. There are people who run from it and those who just stand there. They flex up but can't move. That's me. I'm flexing. When things financially get rough - I just don't move - I hope it'll all just roar by, leaving me with tattered clothes and messed up hair. Cuz I could deal with that.