still no word from Sara. I nearly went crazy Tuesday night... and spent all of Wednesday camping on the outskirts. I actually tried to call her a couple of times Tuesday (after telling her not to call that night because I was going to be busy with my mom), but didn't get her... I did end up paging the doc, and he actually called me back - and quickly! hooray for having fixed the whole I-call-too-often-therefore-he-doesn't-call-me-back issue. he was incredibly understanding, and of course, he caught on right away to the connection between Sara not being ok and my dad not being ok... that common theme of "I keep getting better; why can't they just get better, too?" he told me I have guile, but it didn't really make me feel better because - as he realized and mentioned a moment later - Sara has it, too. that girl gets up again time after time, and it amazes me... I just wish she didn't have to fall in the first place. I so want her to move here and see him. I know that'd probably be ridiculously complicated... I mean, how exactly would I handle it if she were *seeing him* and *struggling?* still. I wish. we could come up with a way to have boundaries; she wouldn't *have* to move into my bedroom or anything. (oh, gods, she so wouldn't do that. Sara-queen-of-neatness in my well-intentioned-but-perpetually-sloppy room? not happening.) ...so, anyway, still waiting. I'll deal when I know what the facts are, not that there will be a great bit more I can do then. I have no idea where things are at, specifically, just that they're less than good. she will get back on track. also, I remembered this one time when I sort of broke down and begged her to be ok. and how it didn't destroy her to hear that. which fit in well with a point the doctor made, about how all the upsettedness and even the anger are proof of the connection, they're a (strange) byproduct of our love. so. it's not awful of me to be so hurt and scared and angry. it's how much she matters to me, how much this "us" matters, that makes it hurt. it's how incredibly at home in loving her I am...
in 2005, I will see her more than once. just like Dave will write me more than once. and we will both get better, grow, progress, recover, discover, et cetera. please, please, please.
I went to my dad's yesterday. I'm still not entirely sure why. my goal to reinstate the 5-days-out per week rule didn't quite happen, but I'm cool with that as I have been eating much better, which means feeling much better, and that's one thing that's really helping things. candy is very, very good, but warm food with actual nutritional value makes a better meal plan. add that to my slightly-better-sleep-pattern and I might have actual energy soon. I don't know which of the twelve-zillion changes worked, but I've only had one nightmare in the last three days (unfortunately, last night) and I've been actually sleeping! yeay! ...still, I haven't been getting out. to begin with I'm broke, but I'm also just sort of zonked. I think I went to my dad's yesterday mainly out of a "might as well" attitude. I just felt like it was time to do something, even something that incredibly laid back. so, we went out to his apartment and had a Christmas movie marathon, which rocked. I love so many Christmas movies, and who wants to watch them when family's in and there are other things to do? so, we hit Rudolph, Frosty, Charlie Brown, and the Grinch, went out to dinner, (oh my gosh, the *cutest* little girl was playing with me, peeking out and smiling, and I kept making funny faces and smiling back; I was trying to tell a story, and I could not keep my train of thought - I was incapable of continuing to talk whenever she looked at me... I so need that volunteer job with the kids), and then went back long enough to watch White Christmas. I can't believe how good that movie is. even the parts of it that make me sad - like knowing that Bing Crosby wasn't really the greatest guy in the world, Rosemary Clooney - who I totally love - had *such* a hard life, and Vera Ellen ...sigh... eating disorder. I tried to just focus on the story, the characters instead of the actors, but it's still hard. and I can't believe that I was so bored by the dance scenes as a kid. I remember thinking they were so long. now I just stare at the tv in awe. godds, Vera Ellen is amazing.
then home again, home again, jiggety jig. we had about a thousand Christmas cards in our mailbox. I separated them into two piles - the people we like from now on and the people we don't (based on which cards were addressed to Jane and Mary, and which cards were just addressed to Jane - I didn't have any all to myself that particular day) - it turns out we only still like three people. I'm hoping to get out and find Christmas cards today; not having any cash on me has seriously interfered with that. I don't know if I'll get them out this year or if I'll just have to save it. I think I want to send them, though, and who cares if they show up on the 27th? of June?
we also had this really cute, fairly thick envelope to someone who doesn't live here, with a cute little mouse on an ornament. I showed it to my mom because it looked so special, and I felt sad that its recipient doesn't live here, and my mom suggested I write a note explaining that, and send it back to the return address. which I loved! so I wrote the note, and now I'll send it off. it's such a happy little random thing to do. and I really hope this person is able to track down her (?) friend because, obviously, I know how important that is.
maybe all those Christmas movies got to me, but it's just always so great to be able to do things for people. sweet things. small things. random-acts-of-who-I-want-to-be-ness. my dad grabbed lunch on our way to his apartment - I'd already eaten - and the restaurant had this cardboard stand-up page with a photo and all these slots for quarters. they were collecting money for this girl with leukemia. I was rooting through my purse while my dad ordered, and (much to my surprise - I thought I gave my last coins to Sarah, Steve, and Dale in New York, a joking thank-you since they covered me on practically everything) I found a quarter! it made me insanely happy.
I was thinking that if I get allowance this week, or last week, (I didn't get either, but money distrubition is all weird from Christmas present buying so, I don't know) I might go pick up a toy or two for the Toys for Tots drive. except, I don't know that I can get to any of the drop-off spots on my own. not like there won't be other opportunities to improve someone's day, but it'd be cool. I'd get them an animal or an Etch-a-Sketch or something, something I couldn't live without as a kid. a Skip-It! something.
I have an appointment at three, unless the doctor cancels - which I only say because he cancelled on my mom yesterday morning. his receptionist said he sounded kind of sick. bad! we got through the first half of December without any major illness, so it better have been a fluke! he cannot go back into the hospital this year! especially not when he's this close to time off and a holiday... I hope he's ok.
oh, and (I'm about to end this, thinking, "well, I guess that's it") I told my dad I like girls. I got all nervous when I did it, which seemed strange. but I did it anyway. and it was so no big deal. we were in the car on the way to dinner, and I was like, "so... I have something to tell you. in the spirit of the holiday... things that are merry and gay. it turns out that I am Mary and gay, as well." and he just nodded and said, "Are you? Ok" which makes some sense because he's been asking me for years - all that Ani, you know - but it doesn't take away the coolness of his actively-not-giving-a-shit. he did hug me and thank me like three times... thanked me for trusting him and telling him, and I was like, "dude. no problem." did you see how little of a deal that was? why wouldn't I have told you? but it's all easier afterward. anyway. he also kept cracking me up because he thanked me about a zillion times for spending the day with him, for visiting, which he calls - fittingly, I guess - "coming out." so he kept thanking me for coming out, on top of the times he was actually thanking me for that. which was funny and strange and silly.
he was really sweet. and I started to see why the doc holds out hope. I mean, I think we mostly hope for our own sakes, but... I don't think my dad's hopeless. he offered to talk with the doctor for my sake again. he said again that he can't afford to see him, himself. but it didn't feel as bullshitty as it normally does. maybe the doctor's right about my dad realizing that his actions didn't get him what he wanted and taking steps to make some changes. that would rock. that would so rock.
oh and my grandma punched my dad in the nose while holding a key. she claims it was an accident. I'm the only witness, and I honestly couldn't tell you either way. hee hee...
~me