It's all gone fish-shaped

Well, here I am, on Long Island. Nothing much has changed, other than that drugstores have gotten bigger.

Actually, I had a really nice Mother's Day yesterday with Mom and Grandma. Grandma ain't built like she used to be, so Mom and I planted some annual flowers for her outside her condo, while she supervised and fed us chicken and cake. I had a HI-larious moment while we were preparing lunch, regarding the green beans. Mom was like, "You think they're done yet?" And Grandma said, "Well I like them soft so I don't think so." That got me nervous so I got up and tasted one and said, "Yup, it's done." (It was already overdone and moving away from green territory). She ended up having me remove half the beans from the water, so that she could boil her portion to death for another 15 minutes. She likes her beans drinkable. When I was a teenager I never would've dared to challenge the authorities on cooking time, but I know better now. Isn't it amazing the vast generational disagreements over cooking? My own mother used to cook stuff to death too, until Audrey, and later George, came into her life and convinced her minimal cooking doesn't mean minimal taste. And now people in MY generation are starting to get into the raw food thing.

Today is Monday, so Mom's at work and I.....am going through boxes of stuff in the children's bedroom (What else to call that room?). I cannot believe the mountains of crap the 3 of us have stored in there. None of us live near home, so we scatter bits of our past behind us every time we move. Zoe at least is only graduating college this year, so it's acceptable for her to have some belongings in there, but Kate and I should really take our last bits out of there, because right now it's all just wasting away. Since I'm moving into a new place and own nothing but a bed and camping gear at this point, some of this stuff is gold to me right now. I'm fuckin rich! I just found a $300 cream suit of mine I used maybe twice and then forgot about. Still fits, yay to staying the same size!

I have very strong reactions to many of these objects, like they've transcended functionality and mean something completely different. Like, for example I just found this hair clip currently being used as a bookmark in some child fantasy book and I took it out and stared at it, thinking, "I KNOW this." Reminiscing is so bizarre. It made me wonder about people who've been living in the same places for decades, with piles of crap in an unchanging hug around them. What do these people see when they look at these chotchkes? Is it a candle/decorative plate/ornamental lamp, is it invisible, is it pure home? Does it even matter whether you find it attractive or unattractive after a certain point? I guess this could be related to the feeling you have when you see yourself, a close longtime friend, or a family member. The person is generally no longer labeled attractive or unattractive, they're just familiar. Maybe that's why it's unsettling for some people when a close person loses a lot of weight. It takes a long time to identify them as a thin person.

I guess this could also be related to the fact that most strangers who see me and my sisters together think we all look exactly alike, whereas our nuclear family has an almost impossible time seeing it. Isn't it strange how different everything looks, not only amongst different people but even by yourself at different points during your lifetime?

Status summary update: It's cold and rainy, the cat is harassing me, I am listening to Plaid, I am not yet bored, there is NY pizza, veggies, and beer in the fridge. Today is a good day.