About 6 days ago I wrote the following passage but never posted it...
Well, I leave today. The past few months have sort of been a blur of activity. I am anxious to leave and yet in desperate need of time away. Poor Boo is not pleased with the situation and upon seeing suitcases chose to pout for the day in a nearby box.
At the moment he is asleep on my suitcase, in some effort to not be left behind.
Mr. Georgie Boy doesn't mind if Kutmah takes care of him, they are old pals.
Here's where I will update my trip back home- to Ohio:
Let's begin with my greeting at the Cleveland airport by my sister and niece. Awesome welcome, we ended up watching 16 Candles til we all fell asleep on my Mom's bed. 2 things I realized while watching 1.) that I could recite that movie word for word 2.) Jake Ryan is universally transcending all sense of time on the hotness scale.
The next day we shopped in my old hometown. This is the point where I realized that having children under 4 is not only demanding but exhausting (and may I add expensive). My sister has a small army over at her place. A one and half year old, a 3 year old and a 12 year old in addition to her Alpaca animal farm (6+ alpaca, 2 bulldogs, 1 weiner dog, too many cats to count).
Lucky for her there are 6 acres to get lost in.
this is what having a lot of kids looks like:
I am nervous whenever I go home. It has something to do with the overwhelming sense of nostalgia that hits in waves and causes me to lose my appetite. I think everything is stirring my thoughts in the direction of the past. I notice lovely green yards with 4th of July banners and white picket fences. My mother points to a small house with rows of little flags and lets me know that a young soldier has recently died there. Something about hearing this information and the long drive home makes me want to cry.
I remember myself at age 11 eating pork and beans and deviled eggs in the backyard of our neighbors place, near my old house. The year that my dad ran directly into a pipe (that had positioned a bottle rocket) and ended up in an ambulance bleeding from a gashed kneecap. On fourth of July in Ohio it always seemed to rain and always seemed to be sort of a blur.
There are funny little places in Ohio, where crafty ladies create Martha Stewart like home-wares. Were talking lots of felt flowers, paint markers and glitter. My niece was way into them. Too bad they cost a small fortune.
We often end up in these generic diners where every man is dressed in baggy pleated Dockers and older ladies with grey hair faintly tinted pink huddle over soggy eggs. That doesn't freak me out as much as the haunting soundtrack to my youth pouring out of the speakers at these eateries. First there is Psychedelic Furs "Love my way" and then "Blue Monday" by new order. And no one notices it, these sounds that drag me back to high school glory days. Everyone continues to talk slow, or not at all all the while my heart sinking. I want to drive around at night looking for action and parties. I imagine all of the stolen kisses in closets and dance sequences in the basement. None of this will occur on my trip down memory lane.
I meet later for dinner with my father...the staunch McCain supporter, who talks politics til his face is red. He rambles about the problems with left-coast ideals and as his words blur I notice that Echo and the Bunnymen is playing on the radio. "killing moon" is the soundtrack to his rant, and mysteriously on the sound system of a conservative upper class cafe. As if a reminder that at one time there was something slightly cool here. My father tells me the elaborate (perhaps exaggerated) story about my great great grandma who was a true matriarch and owner of much of the land in that town. Her Italian roots spread deep throughout much of this little Ohio township. She was Sopranos before the Sopranos. According to old family lore, she heard her 2nd husband married her for money and shot him in the leg.
The next day my mom takes me to my High School where she has to pick up a paycheck. We enter in the art wing where I spent much of my teen angst years. I peered into the empty classroom and remembered mostly the stale stench of my teachers breath. She had this amazing stare, her eyes mostly dilated and pale pale blue. I heard she passed away some years back. She was pretty awesome and did much to encourage my art. On the wall in that school wing they still had my art awards framed. I couldn't believe it.
The lockers seemed bigger to me now. The smell of dusty maps or something inside of old books present in the vacant rooms.
there are strange things sometime in Ohio, like these crafts. We discovered them in a creepy swap meet flea market
yay! reading about your trip home made me feel so happy, especially because i began my life as a small town pennsylvania girl.
Posted by: amanda | July 02, 2008 at 09:10 AM
Loved this. I get this same sort of euphoria / flu when I go back to my small town in Illinois. Ironically, I have similar pictures with the clothes, hair and scintillating tan!! Must be an 80's Midwest thing :)
Posted by: Lisa | July 02, 2008 at 09:47 AM
*sigh* I need to go back to Chicago soon. It always seemed to rain on the 4th of July there also!!!I'm about to embark on a weekend trip to LA to hang with a 1.5 yr old and a 3 yr old also EEEEEEEK!!!
Posted by: Cindy | July 02, 2008 at 02:50 PM
Some random thoughts:
Damn, those alpacas sure give Georgie Boy a run for his cuteness money!
Your eyes look amazing in these shots.
Sedona looks like she is about 25...look out Missy!
Your nephews are just absolutely adorably precious.
Love the "Killing Moon" connection you made...heh heh.
Wondering if you have any snaps of the good hotel rooms? Me like to see!
My fave? the snap of the bolero/savage tan/cigarette girl hat combo...wheeee!
Glad you're back...call ya in a bit.
Posted by: orchide | July 02, 2008 at 06:03 PM
Funny...that jacket was my mom's from T.Edwards at the mall. And we are in my sisters room! But Echo and The Bunnymen...man, that brings back memories.
Posted by: Laura DiSanto | January 19, 2010 at 11:38 AM
i loved T. Edwards!! I had the perfume from their store even, ha. I remember i forced padre ron to buy me a $380 dollar letter man french jacket from there. Miss u!
Posted by: themoldydoily | January 19, 2010 at 10:46 PM