better, different, whatever

 My room is cluttered with shit all along the walls. I never realized I had so much worthless shit. A bunch of crap stuffed in old wine boxed and black, cracked crates. Mounds of old pieces of writing and photos with a million thumb tack holes at the top. When I moved out I kept assuming my possesions were minimal. A few things here and there but the bulk of our house belonging to her. It’s true, I guess, in a sense, but jesus christ I have a lot of stuff I could have thrown out in Jr. High. 

But I won’t. For whatever reason.

I visited my family and it was funtimes. My Dad says "cock" too much and my Mom pesters me to move up there. My brother is engulfed in married life; spending lots of money on the latest DVD’s out and going to the gym during the week. My GMa makes lasagnia takes a bunch of prescription medicine for her faulty hip. My uncle sees me and before the conversation can enter "general small talk" zone he boasts, "So? What do you think? Obama or Hilary?" I keep political talk with the family to a minimal these days. My Dad thinks I hate America and my uncle thinks the only time a woman should abort is after rape. 

We have drinks at the bar and my Dad breaks a glass. I wear a high waisted pencil skirt with my chucks. My brother’s wife wears a blue dress that is hideous but probably really "in" or whatever. It has elastic above the knees and everyone tells her how "beautiful" it is. Her and my aunt drink white wine by the glass and talk about how all the doctors in the ER have been in such good moods. I order vodka sodas and then white russians. Shannon drinks light beer and the wife keeps an eye on his consumption. 

My cousin whines to her Dad, "should I get the little filet or the big one?" Her boyfriend stays quiet, with his eyes down, defeated by low self esteem or some other form of doormat syndrome. She yells at him for letting the server take his friend’s prime rib bone

"we could have given that to the dogs!" She chirps. 

"It wasn’t my plate." He says, still looking down. 

"Think about what you just said and how stupid it was." She shoots back. 

I watch them bicker and order another drink. It amazes me how many people stay in relationships with those they don’t even like, even on a friendly level. She folds her arm and sticks her nose up. I order another drink. 

I migrate about the table to the different ends. I taste everyones food and make friendly small talk. My uncle tells me jokes about Hilary and I talk about the Office with one of Shannon’s roommates. I order veal, I’m feeling saucy. I order a million drinks and barely catch a buzz, they must be making them light. I eat too much cheese fondue and the same roommate who likes the office calls it "pig vomit", it reminds me of something the ex would have said about it. 

The dinners dies down and we go over to shannon and the wife’s for a game of ‘Scene it Squabble’. I kick ass but still can’t seem to get drunk. Everyone jokes and laughs and pokes fun at everyone else. I get sleepy and irritable.

Other nights happen. Beer pong and pain killers. We go to Raging Waters and it’s awesome shooting down a tube of water super fast into a spinning bowl or more fast moving water. My shorts keep riding my ass and there are 7 million children there. I have fun and sort of get a tan.

My family makes me feel safe in a way I guess I used to get from the ex. Protected or something. Yet I can’t shake the differences between them and I and I can’t fathom moving closer to them without a direct path for friendships and a better life. Better, different, whatever.