listening to brand new really loud in my headphones to keep anyone from talking to me. from yelling to me from another office, if we're being honest, but y'know. so it goes. i don't like talking at present. i was re-reading harry potter and the order of the phoenix last night and at the end after - god, am i really worrying about spoilers for the last frickin' book? (i finished half-blood prince on saturday.) after harry loses someone close to him there is a paragraph where he muses on how he's not sure if he wants to be around people or not: when he's alone, he wants company, but when he has company, he wants to be alone.

yes, that. and if you'd like to laugh at me for relating to a harry potter book, oh, do go right ahead.

why am i relating? my mom's the oldest now. my family is smaller and i feel fragmented without my grandfather up in the yellow house on the hill, up where we always converged for holidays and everything else. i remember being in that house when i was four or so, hiding behind my mother's legs from the strange relatives.

there is so much to do. one of my oldest friends is being judgemental of me because i didn't want to come over and sit with everyone else the night he died. no, i do this my own way, and if you want to pass judgement on me for that, you can fuck right the fuck off. this is NOT the time for you to think that your way is the right way, the only way, and thus everyone else ought to join you in it.

breathing, breathing. i'm not really that irate, it's just ... frustrating. i don't even know where to find my other oldest friend, the other one of us that needs to know.

i always need to be busy when shit goes down. i want to go clean the house and find homes for the nine million issues of national geographic and everything else. i want there to be work involved. it's just not time for that yet.

and in the future is the idea, the hopeful reality, that j and i are going to buy twenty acres of the farm (half of which i already inherited from my uncle - thank you, uncle b.) and live in the country.

i cling to the thought of next july.

(but i still miss new york.)