Scenes From the Week, Moving Backwards

At writer's group, telling the story of the first time I met Marianne Villanueva. We were reading together for this book, and because it was my first reading ever, and I knew nothing and nobody, I was experiencing a deep, deep uneasiness, which manifested in sweaty palms and an irrational fear of my face displaying—perhaps—a smudge of peanut butter or some other food substance. I had arrived embarrassingly early, of course, clutching my copy of the book like it contained the secrets of the universe. Marianne, by contrast, crept in late and slipped easily into the chair beside me while Jay Ruben Dayrit read his story, "The House of Prime Rib." She leaned over and whispered, "Can I borrow your book? I didn't bring one." And that is how I realized that Marianne is the cool girl from the Senior class, while I am the dweebie Freshman.

At my perch, reading blogs. Suddenly seized by the long arms of jealousy and thrown around for a bit. Eh, it's healthy.

At my perch, reading the news. Laughing out loud because the President "vows to end tyranny." Whose, exactly?

At the pediatrician's office. Vida takes a stand on immunization, screaming bloody murder while I wrap my legs around her to keep her from kicking. To minimize her squirming, my arms encircle her waist. The spousal unit holds the remaining parts of her steady for the nurse, who performs her job admirably while Vida recites a litany of everything she hates: shots, nurses, doctors, life. And then it's over, and I can see she feels a little silly.

At the kitchen counter. Slicing flank steak, admiring my work.

At the mirror, taking stock. Conclusion: I need a haircut. Badly. I also need to drink more water.

At the center of the 3-way conflict, kneeling. "It's Martin Luther King Day," I admonish. "What would he say if he saw you fighting?" The bigger ones already know, so I turn to Lea. "Lea, what would he say?" And she says, "Use your words, not your fists." We all nod at her. "Sorry, Mama. Sorry, guys."

~~~

So...I need to take a blog break and do some real writing, people. El serenito has his mHYeow-bernation; I have my ver-bernation.

Be back soon.