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Amazing. The concrete bungalow got sold. I need to be out by May 31.
That’s a month earlier than I’d planned to be out. There’ll be some scrambling, fashure. My chief concern is Milo. I love Milo and want to make sure he has a good home, but Ben can’t take him till the end of June. Also I’m having some major oral surgery at the beginning of May and there’ll probably be a six to eight week healing period associated with that.
All in all, though, I’m not terribly upset. For the first time in a long, long while, I don’t feel as though the future is waiting to ambush and beat the shit out of me. I’m actually looking forward to it.
Watched the deeply disturbing film Martha Marcy May Marlene last night. As a very young teenager my mother signed me over to a cult called Synanon for a couple of months. It was supposed to cure my drug problems. It didn’t. Instead it left me with a profound distrust of group dynamics. I have a kind of protective amnesia about the whole experience, which was pretty grim. My most vivid memory is performing paramilitary tai kwon do exercises overlooking Tomales Bay while the mist rose from the hillside. I once started to write a novel about Synanon survivors but gave it up after a single chapter -- too Don DeLillo.
For the first few years after my mother died, I hosted a Mother/Daughter Dysfunctional Film Festival on her birthday. You know the lineup -- Mommie Dearest, Carrie, White Oleander. I’m now thinking there’s an entire genre of dysfunctional sister/sister movies as well. Like Martha Marcy May Marlene would be a great double bill with A Streetcar Named Desire. The Olsen non-twin, by the way, was amazingly good in this.
That’s a month earlier than I’d planned to be out. There’ll be some scrambling, fashure. My chief concern is Milo. I love Milo and want to make sure he has a good home, but Ben can’t take him till the end of June. Also I’m having some major oral surgery at the beginning of May and there’ll probably be a six to eight week healing period associated with that.
All in all, though, I’m not terribly upset. For the first time in a long, long while, I don’t feel as though the future is waiting to ambush and beat the shit out of me. I’m actually looking forward to it.
Watched the deeply disturbing film Martha Marcy May Marlene last night. As a very young teenager my mother signed me over to a cult called Synanon for a couple of months. It was supposed to cure my drug problems. It didn’t. Instead it left me with a profound distrust of group dynamics. I have a kind of protective amnesia about the whole experience, which was pretty grim. My most vivid memory is performing paramilitary tai kwon do exercises overlooking Tomales Bay while the mist rose from the hillside. I once started to write a novel about Synanon survivors but gave it up after a single chapter -- too Don DeLillo.
For the first few years after my mother died, I hosted a Mother/Daughter Dysfunctional Film Festival on her birthday. You know the lineup -- Mommie Dearest, Carrie, White Oleander. I’m now thinking there’s an entire genre of dysfunctional sister/sister movies as well. Like Martha Marcy May Marlene would be a great double bill with A Streetcar Named Desire. The Olsen non-twin, by the way, was amazingly good in this.
