My sister, Blondie, is arriving on Thursday. I haven’t seen her in (almost) exactly two years.
I never would have imagined when I was growing up that I would live a life where I didn’t see my family – and, really, in my teenage years I probably wouldn’t have seen that as a bad thing, anyway.
TMD and I always talk about how good it would be if Mom and Bear lived in our neighborhood or right next door or something. Not in a creepy enmeshed-with-your-parents type way, but in a gosh-these-people-are-fun-and-good-friends kind of way. Ringing them, they’re always talking about BBQs on the deck, planting flowers, crazy friendships. I miss them both very much.
I’m curious to see Blondie. The first time she came over here to visit me was in October 2004 – in those days, I went home a lot and people didn’t come here – that seems to have reversed a bit. Blondie was here two weeks – the first week it was me, her, and TMD. Poor TMD.
Blondie and I screamed at each other constantly; we even got into an hysterical fight in the middle of a very busy station which ended with me running off into a tunnel, dodging crowds and trying to lose them. Mature, I know.
Blondie also came over with my mom at one point, and that time most of the fighting action was contained between the two of them. Blondie screamed ‘I hate you!’ at my mother in a cafe and ran out. My mother was crying and freaking out, and I ended up paying the bill – using some money from the tips jar I didn’t realise was a tips jar to get exact change. Blondie apparently spent her time in a pub writing angsty poetry around the corner, while I spent my time trying to convince my mother not to call the police.
My mother is all crippled up (a non-PC but highly accurate term) and she ended up limping along the high road crying and yelling my sister’s name.
The NEXT time, they brought Bear with them – this was the two years ago thing. They came over for our legal wedding. That evening was a laugh riot full of white trash fighting, finger pointing, and angry recriminations at my friends from my mother, via Bear. It also culminated in opening the doors to leave at the end of the evening to see my mother pointing at my sister, hissing, ‘You look like a SLUT!’
Sounds poisonous reading/writing it here, but that’s sort of how my family is – big fights, big love. Nobody can see past their own viewpoints to realise that everyone is as fucked up as they are, and no one knows how to gracefully give or take love.
I’m curious to see my sister. I’m taking her to a big old gay festival on Saturday. This should be good, as a recent Facebook message I have from her says,‘what did you say to mom? she thinks i’m a lesbain because i went on two dates with some douche bag who tried to attack a bear in the woods on our first date / tried to grope me our entire second date & then she thinks i like girls because i don’t want to marry him and meet his entire extended family.’
Ah. Family.
Tags: bisexual, day job, friends, fun, healing, lbgt, lesbian, love, memory, mom, queer, sister, story, wedding
