01.13.0-30 - 1:09 a.m.
Full of WistI'm in the South West of the U.S. visiting a childhood friend. It's okay. It's really fun to visit a part of the U.S. I haven't seen in a while (we lived here when I was four, but I'l get back to that in a bit...). I'm interested in the whole Mexican and Indian population. I realize I don't know any Native Americans. And am totally curious. The Mexicans here seem less familiar to me than those in Big City, but I think it's because I have no context. I would like to be educated, but my childhood friend hasn't lived here long enough yet to sort it out herself. It seems that there's a rift between the new Mexicans and the old Mexicans and the Indians and how they've all mixed or not mixed with one another and the white folk.
The childhood friend bit is weird. I have always cherished her friendship especially since I don't really have any friends from grade school or high school any more (high school was a time I'd much rather forget...) so her knowing my history is very important to me, but as an adult I feel like I'm too brash or something for her. I feel too comfortable with her or something... like I tease her in a way I don't tease other people much anymore and she gets kind of insulted and dewey eyed and is spending a lot of time reading alone. It's a little frustrating. It's georgous here but it's a bit too relaxing. I'm doing the eating and hanging out and trying to read but feeling too antsy to do just that. I don't really need a calm vacation and she really does because she just came off her first year teaching. So I understand but things aren't flowing as much as I'd like them too.
I also saw a friend of mine who I worked with in the Hondoo-doo back in the day. She married a Honduran and now lives here and goes to grad school. I met two friends of her one of whom went to my college after I left. I immediatley liked her (it's like that with my tiny, wacky college, I feel like people who went there really know what I'm all about or something...) and she was married to a long haired Mexican artist who was well traveled in his country. That made me kind of envious in a wistful way. I don't want her Mexican per say, but he was mature enough and well educated enough and arty enough and alternative enough that I found so appealing. Wistful.
And as I mentioned before my family lived here when I was four years old. Four is pretty much when my memories began and so I have lots of random memories of this place which are all slightly negative and transforming including being really poor and wanting things I couldn't have, getting salmonella and taking showers because there was no bathtub (I found that terrifying). It makes me feel wistful to be there for that too.
Also wistful because my friend is in a long term very comfortable, sweet relationship and I am feeling very negative and turned off from romantic relationships these days. I see no positive in not being independant. I don't want to be accountable to anyone else or think about someone else with each descision I make or match my feelings to someone else. I'm done for a while with that shit I think. But it still makes me wistful....
I'm a gassy sort of happy. That's my definition of wistful. Peace,
Paleta
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