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Mumble...

The woman with the studio space she wanted to share changed her mind. She called me yesterday to tell me that, and to give me the number of the woman who runs the studio collective, which is cool. I was really kind of surprised when she called to tell me that her "situation has changed" and now she wasn't sure she needed someone to share the space after all. The last time we spoke she was telling me that I had it. Muh? I placed a lot of hopes and desires on that studio space, and I was planning paintings, and thinking about how great it was going to be to get back in to creating again... It meant more to me than I suppose it should have.

So I am disappointed. I've gotten a little depressed lately. Feeling overwhelmed, incompetent. This has had the effect of making me fairly unpleasant to be around, and it's made me in to this kind of pissed off hermit. Bleah!! I'm also becoming thoroughly nocturnal again, which just makes me weird and lazy. I had a big fight with Joel last night, which was terrible and awful and upsetting, and ended with us realizing how similar we are, and we started talking nicely to each other, which defused the argument, and so there we are. I hate fights.

Today was a weird day. I got started late, and headed out to run a few quick errands in the neighborhood, got some little glass marble things needed to plant a narcissus bulb given to me by one of the poetesses from my mom's memorial and bought some envelopes. Big whoop. I came home and was thinking about popping in my Wargames DVD to watch it once through without the commentary and one time with it on (doubt i have the stamina, really) with Caitlyn when another housemate, Tait, came shuffling, muttering and skulking really melodramatically down the hall and slammed his door. We're sort of used to that kind of teenage behavior around here so we just kind of shrugged and went about our business.

Moments later, Caitlyn knocks on my door and gestures towards Tait's room, where we can hear him screaming and shrieking nonsensically, words like "OH MY GOD, NO NOOOO NOOO gone GONE GONE nOOOOoOOOOoOOo!" and we kind of bugged our eyes out and tried to discern what was going on. Tait is kind of a spaz. When things don't go well for him, he really takes it hard. Really hard. He sees things as being really huge tragedies when they're just everyday annoyances. Even so, we knew this was something major. I grabbed my cel phone and went to sit on the front steps to give Joel a call, and just after I had said hello, Tait came bursting through the front door, smelling like whiskey and making these really strange inhuman guttural sounds. He looked at me for a couple of beats before throwing down his jacket and bag and flopping down beside me. I was a little freaked out by his behavior, so I asked "Uhhh, wow, what's up? Are you okay?" and he grabbed at me and clawed at my shirt and sobbed and screamed and ululated and eventually burst out that the drummer for his band, this guy Mike, had died in a car accident in Costa Rica. Heavy, bad bad news.

I've never seen anyone act like this before, it was astonishing. Caitlyn came out and we both sat with him, and he was sort of curled up and feral, kind of rocking back and forth, clutching at us and desperate and angry and heaving with sobs. It was all the more strange because there is a lot of animosity between us as housemates, and suddenly here he is hugging me and resting his head in my lap. I've known him for a long time, though, so I sort of tried to be cool and console him as well as I know how, sort of rubbing his back and then I made him some tea, tried to give him some pretty lame advice. His girlfriend came by after a while and took over. She was probably a lot more compassionate.

The rest of the evening was kind of awkward. There was a nice interlude when Caitlyn and I took a late-night walk to get some tea at Cafe Abir, and then we walked to Alamo Square, and looked at the views and met some nice doggies, and watched the fog come in, transforming the skyline before our eyes. It was kind of peaceful and magical. We drank our tea and talked about death, grief, mourning and moving on. We heard sirens in the distance and I said that I loved the sound of sirens coursing through the city, even though I knew they represented something awful happening somewhere, and she said "It's nice because it means that there are heroes somewhere, too."

Comments

( 1 uh-oh — Make a mess )
sugaree
Nov. 15th, 2001 10:43 pm (UTC)
Uh. Wow. And stuff. Wanna go get a beer? I certainly need one.
( 1 uh-oh — Make a mess )