so i spent labor day weekend somewhere out past carbondale, pennsylvania. my mother was hoping i would spend it in cape cod with my parents and grandparents, and the disappointment in her voice led me to have guilt dreams for the next two nights. i remember one in which i was beachcombing on the shore like we used to do as children, except with way more exotic animals. and tori amos. i don't know why she was in my dream, although i do remember that when my mom was working with her sister she told me they spoke every night, which makes tori a way more better sister than i am a daughter.
but one of the rewards of going to the cabins is that when you're there you are really fucking there, so i had to suck it up and be glad to be there. which i really actually was. it could have been awkward to be out there alone with a couple, later on with jon's parents as well, so two couples, but stephanie likes to surround herself with people as much as possible while jon is a loner type, and anyway i've been living with them for more than three years now. it worked out all right, and it was good to have the time with them. i finally worked up the nerve to tell stephanie that i would like to buy food with them, which is the biggest social commitment i've walked into willingly since moving in with them. we had a house meeting tonight about buying food collectively, i found a health food store with a bulk section, we made a shopping list together and just like that it's done. for better or worse. the groceries will be delivered tomorrow. stephanie and i will go through my cabinet and redistribute my stores. i have this habit of hoarding, where i like to think of getting things and putting them away for future use, like permanent resources. i know it's irrational. i have dried soup mix that was given to me six years ago. i have notes from my sophomore year math class carefully packed away in storage. i'm very possessive of things in this way. it's perhaps time i let go of that a little bit. the flour will also arrive tomorrow, at least, and i can make bread.
two nights in a row we got drunk with jon's parents and carried on. i asked them about how they met and became involved, how their children handled it. i told them i thought i might not find a partner like that and they said, how old are you? there's no way someone as awesome as you won't find someone. which is more flattering than reassuring. i keep asking myself whether it would matter and why. it's a waste of my energy to wonder whether i'll fall in love again- my worrying about it does not make it more likely to happen, and it's an activity that does no one any good. all the time i've spent wishing to be in love with someone (reciprocally, it should be said) i could have spent getting better grades in college, or studying the many books i've hoarded away for future use, or learning to play the dulcimer or volunteering. what a fucking waste.