Tuesday, October 18, 2005
I am ANTI, against, not for the domestication of (my own) self. Now I'm not really sure why I loathe the thought of kitchens and cooking and playing that role, but this past weekend I went down to Keizer, normal as can be, to visit Dan and Noel (moms and pops!), and came back domesticated. I tell you, it started with the bed, and it's been downhill ever since. Saturday Mom and I went to Target, and I don't think I've seen her so excited in YEARS; I'm pushing the cart as slow as it might go, weary of stepping foot into the spatula aisle and she's bouncing ahead, three aisles in front of me, gleefully envisioning my future muffin trays and silverware sets. Part of me doesn't want to embrace OWNING stuff....part of me doesn't want to embrace COOKING meals...part of me just doesn't want to embrace GROWING UP, which to my parents is the funniest part. According to birth certificate records and such I'm the oldest, but it doesn't necessarily mean that I play the role accordingly.
So I went to Keizer a free woman and left Keizer with the trunk full: a toaster oven, pots and pans, MFM (my first mop!), a matching towel set...the list goes on. Who am I? What is this place called Washington doing to my so-called (former) life? Okay, so maybe it's kindof fun....but that's just a little bit of a kindof....give me another five years and maybe I'll cook you a meal. For now I'm holding on to slipping ground...but laughing about it nonetheless. If you have thoughts on how I might better embrace this new lifestyle - dear God, help a sista out.
With hugs and hot pads, cara:)