Sorry I haven't been posting...I know I'm terribly naughty. But I've been completely absorbed in the ENTIRE diaries of Anais Nin which my mom got me for Christmas. I excitedly devoured the first volume, which covers her entire adolescence pretty much. It was charming, although that fevered compulsion poetry of hers that I love I'm sure doesn't begin until much later.
The title of the first volume is 'Linotte' which was one of her favorite nicknames for herself. Its a little bird, actually, but it means a little scatterbrain. I think I'm going to adopt it too, hehe.
Nothing at home (and by home, I mean serious childhood home home) has progressed but nothing I suppose has increasingly deteriorated since New Years. My father insists on pretending as if nothing happened, and neither my mother nor I can force him to deal with his delusions. I just hope they don't explode again as soon as I'm gone. He's gone back to work, starting his new job, and I hope perhaps this helps him channel some of whatever he is fueled with. God only knows. I just hope he would go back to therapy, although my mother and I have both accepted by now he won't ever change because he doesn't want to.
My mom went to see a lawyer who she liked, but they both decided to wait...that this wasn't the time, etc. It just pains me waiting and waiting and watching the time tick by and torment her. She deserves happiness, sublime happiness more than anyone I know in the world and I just want her to have it!
We have been spending lots of quality time together, and I indulge her probably more than I should. But already when we're together I sense that each second will perhaps soon be only a memory and I remind myself to cherish every tiny thing she does and says because they will one day be my only comforts in a sea of despair. May that day be far far away. I love my mother so much, I complain terribly about her, I am really a bad sort, but really she is an angel.
My dad is just being his self. I promise him we would go eat indian food this weekend. I don't even know what I'm going to do with him. What is going on in his brain.
I haven't seen my sister. I need to stop putting it off, if only because I have a shitload of gifts to give her. Not only from me but apparently the extended family now assumes that I am her Santa Claus and sends her gifts to me to deliver. Christ.
I know its silly but I still hold out hope that she and my mom will one day reunite. It is really my dearest wish, but it may be impossible. That pains me a great deal.
Anyhow, I come back to New York on monday and classes start tuesday morning. No breaks there. I can hardly remember what I even registered for. I do remember however that I've got to get into one of those History night classes. Fucking hell.
I miss Meg and Sammy and Morgan and my silly boys.
Alors! That's all and little miss is tired!
avec tous mes plus beaux souhaits,
ton petit linotte
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