I am able to do a little work. I took two days off from forward progression and almost got off the train altogether. Two sleepless nights of guilt.
Today I buy Cathreen flowers when she cancels her morning lesson. She says "Come home and we'll talk." I panic, but she's happily flitting about the house when I arrive. The power of this phrase. I feel like I've just run a couple miles.
Boise meows and waits by the door like a dog. In the presence of babies, the cat is love-staved. He whines and eats anything that touches him. He bites lightly on my hand. He sticks his claws in me and holds me to him.
Everyone is out of sorts. Cathreen arranges the flowers in a vase. Her forehead is hot. The in-laws go to a hairshop and leave us with the baby. An hour later, Cathreen takes the baby to them. We're looking for each other, I think, we're wondering where we are. I mean in general. As Cathreen dressed to go out, I held the baby and he looked around for her like she was his mother. I sit here writing now wondering when she'll be back--she left her phone, so I know she will be.
In another window, Facebook asks me to write 25 things about myself, and I think, what better way to end this essay. So here they are:
1. Each day a moment exists in which I think life is perfect, and another in which I wish to die.
2. I spend too much time not doing things I'm supposed to do, and I dictate what these things are.
3. My stomach is currently growling but I am so sick of lunar new year food I will let myself go hungry.
4. I am envious. I am an envious person. I hate that.
5. Last night I tried to pray. I tried to pray completely sincere, completely selfless prayers. I could only think of one.
6. I worry constantly that Cathreen will not like America, especially once the city is covered in snow, in the fourth month of winter. Because yes, Boston has a fourth month.
7. Sometimes I think global warming isn't so bad; then I remember Venice.
8. Cathreen is in love with animals so I try to be in love with animals. Mostly this works, surprisingly.
9. Two in-laws, a baby, three dogs, and a cat: overall, I like it.
10. Maybe it's like this: I love cleanliness but I hate cleaning
11. On the other hand: all my life I thought I liked dogs and now I am not sure.
12. Also: I've always said I didn't like babies, while secretly liking them.
13. In life, I don't always want to be happy, but I never want anyone else to be unhappy. I really don't.
14. I watch Korean television and feel like I understand.
15. Before I came here in 2005, I thought some locked-away part of my brain would be engaged by my return, and I would remember Korea from when I was two years old, the language, everything, and I was so disappointed this didn't happen.
16. I am still sort of waiting for it to happen.
17. I believe many things other people don't. Not that a fan in a room without a open window will suffocate a person, though. That is a myth. That is my favorite myth.
18. Time-wise, I think about the future far too often. I think about the past about the right amount. I think about the present not enough.
19. If I hadn't written these essays, I would have forgotten they happened. True story.
20. People hate that I have a terrible memory, but I'm not sure I hate it.
21. We are coming to the end.
22. Though it's taken me a long time to write this, Cathreen is still away. I often imagine her when she is not around. Her photo pose: pressed lips, downturned head.
23. Last night, my mother-in-law screamed in her sleep, one long exhalation of sound that woke the house.
24. And here's what I know: I know she dreamed of Michigan. English piled in drifts of snow. Babies hollering. Her daughter compulsively cleaning. A shining floor, a one-room apartment. Her son-in-law disappearing with the car, their one ticket out. Waiting for Korea.
25. I wait for Boston; Cathreen's lawyer says not to worry, the visa will happen soon. Everything is soon.
Showing posts with label 2 In-Laws 1 Baby 3 Dogs 1 Cat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2 In-Laws 1 Baby 3 Dogs 1 Cat. Show all posts
2.03.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#13)
Cathreen likes to take baths with the baby. I come home from writing in a cafe and there are two babies, three sisters, one mother-in-law, four animals, and I'm hungry. After one sister and one baby leave, Cathreen takes a bath with the remaining kid. I feel strange about this, like I am the only one using the other bathroom, like I am a tenant. Also, the baby is her nephew, not her son.
When she gets out, she says, "My condition is bad," so I try to be a good fiance. Boise sleeps near us curled up on Cathreen's baby blanket. Her smell, I guess. She pulls him under the covers. We sleep with the cat and the scent of vomit still in the carpet.
We've changed our plans so I will go to America first and set things up for her and Boise. I worry about doing this adequately.
I dream a little and feel the floor under me and try to continue dreaming.
I wake up and tutor but the kid hasn't done his homework properly and I am so tired I only sit there and wait for time to pass. When class is over, he says he's going to write Cathreen a letter. I mentioned she was feeling bad. This is sweet. I write a letter, too. At the bottom, I write, "P.S. Micky didn't do his homework." I can't help it.
I come home and look at more apartments. I think of a bitter poem I could write about having no home. Then I go on facebook, gmail, blogs. The internet is creeping into my head. I stab it with a pitchfork and try to work on my novel.
When she gets out, she says, "My condition is bad," so I try to be a good fiance. Boise sleeps near us curled up on Cathreen's baby blanket. Her smell, I guess. She pulls him under the covers. We sleep with the cat and the scent of vomit still in the carpet.
We've changed our plans so I will go to America first and set things up for her and Boise. I worry about doing this adequately.
I dream a little and feel the floor under me and try to continue dreaming.
I wake up and tutor but the kid hasn't done his homework properly and I am so tired I only sit there and wait for time to pass. When class is over, he says he's going to write Cathreen a letter. I mentioned she was feeling bad. This is sweet. I write a letter, too. At the bottom, I write, "P.S. Micky didn't do his homework." I can't help it.
I come home and look at more apartments. I think of a bitter poem I could write about having no home. Then I go on facebook, gmail, blogs. The internet is creeping into my head. I stab it with a pitchfork and try to work on my novel.
2.01.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#12)
The weekend passes, and when it is over, I remember that it was Super Bowl Weekend in America. In this apartment of four and a half people and four pets, in Busan, it was the car breaking down and the baby kicking over a tree and Matt's frantic search for a doctor weekend.
Here's what happened on Sunday:
In the morning, my brother-in-law, still in cursed Michigan, calls about a bad dream, warning his wife to stay in the house. Cathreen, with her two sisters and their babies, go to a department store where they plan to shop for seven hours. She asks me if I want to go.
They stop off for coffee and the baby kicks a divider into a tree which falls over and almost kills people. I have trouble picturing this, but this is what happens. He has super strong kicks. The cafe gets angry. I picture them turning on the baby, but what can they do, he's a baby.
Maybe they don't believe he's that strong, so they turn the sisters out. Five hours of shopping later, the fam pick me up for dinner. We eat fatty pork and salted baby shrimps until my stomach wants to return home.
On the way, we stop for gas. When we leave the station, the car chokes like a motorcycle, vibrates like a bad massage chair. The baby loves it. We manage to get home by driving slowly, blinking our hazard lights. I pray to God we do not explode.
At home is the message I've been waiting for, from a med-student who will tell me how to finish my novel. I write happily. I get other distressing emails. I watch a movie and get in a bad mood.
I try to make Cathreen make me feel better.
When I wake up from a stress-dream sleep, I tutor and come home as the Super Bowl is ending. I eat more lunar new year food. Facebook tells me I have 106 friends. Most of these people I "know." I check my email again and return to my bad mood.
I flail about online, thinking about unavailable jobs, unavailable apartments, until I realize I am being overdramatic. I realize when I wrote "know" in quotations, it sounded Biblical. I realize I only counted the baby as half a person. Still, I press "publish post."
Here's what happened on Sunday:
In the morning, my brother-in-law, still in cursed Michigan, calls about a bad dream, warning his wife to stay in the house. Cathreen, with her two sisters and their babies, go to a department store where they plan to shop for seven hours. She asks me if I want to go.
They stop off for coffee and the baby kicks a divider into a tree which falls over and almost kills people. I have trouble picturing this, but this is what happens. He has super strong kicks. The cafe gets angry. I picture them turning on the baby, but what can they do, he's a baby.
Maybe they don't believe he's that strong, so they turn the sisters out. Five hours of shopping later, the fam pick me up for dinner. We eat fatty pork and salted baby shrimps until my stomach wants to return home.
On the way, we stop for gas. When we leave the station, the car chokes like a motorcycle, vibrates like a bad massage chair. The baby loves it. We manage to get home by driving slowly, blinking our hazard lights. I pray to God we do not explode.
At home is the message I've been waiting for, from a med-student who will tell me how to finish my novel. I write happily. I get other distressing emails. I watch a movie and get in a bad mood.
I try to make Cathreen make me feel better.
When I wake up from a stress-dream sleep, I tutor and come home as the Super Bowl is ending. I eat more lunar new year food. Facebook tells me I have 106 friends. Most of these people I "know." I check my email again and return to my bad mood.
I flail about online, thinking about unavailable jobs, unavailable apartments, until I realize I am being overdramatic. I realize when I wrote "know" in quotations, it sounded Biblical. I realize I only counted the baby as half a person. Still, I press "publish post."
1.30.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#11)
I distract myself by joining Facebook and Myspace. These are serious distractions. Actually, a friend convinces me, curse her. A couple days ago, I googled "why join facebook/myspace" and was unconvinced. Now I join them both. I quit Myspace after 20 minutes. I am socially anxious. This is the internet.
There are other people out there who might scare me. I come very close to canceling Facebook, but don't. Instead I spend the next four hours on it. I try to figure out what it will do, like I'm a baby given a new toy. I can't figure it out, but I chew on it hungrily. Is this food?
I chew on Facebook until the sun sets I convince Cathreen to go on a date. We go to a new restaurant called New York, New York, which has nothing you might find in New York, New York. Then we see a movie by the director of Old Boy. He's stopped making revenge films. Maybe he isn't so angry anymore. The movie staggers in the middle but is redeemed by a very long scene at the end in which nothing makes sense but everything makes sense and people cry a lot.
We go home happy. I wake up to fifty messages from Facebook and one hairball on the carpet.
There are other people out there who might scare me. I come very close to canceling Facebook, but don't. Instead I spend the next four hours on it. I try to figure out what it will do, like I'm a baby given a new toy. I can't figure it out, but I chew on it hungrily. Is this food?
I chew on Facebook until the sun sets I convince Cathreen to go on a date. We go to a new restaurant called New York, New York, which has nothing you might find in New York, New York. Then we see a movie by the director of Old Boy. He's stopped making revenge films. Maybe he isn't so angry anymore. The movie staggers in the middle but is redeemed by a very long scene at the end in which nothing makes sense but everything makes sense and people cry a lot.
We go home happy. I wake up to fifty messages from Facebook and one hairball on the carpet.
1.29.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#10)
Today Cathreen says Ji-hwan was in a bad mood before because he was hungry. He wasn't eating. His mother has lost a lot of weight from stress. He's a thin baby who looks almost more like a little person than a baby. I say this out loud, getting a courteous laugh.
The injuries the babies give themselves: that slap to the head, a scratch across the face. Cathreen worries that Boise may have made the scratch, but it's not deep enough, and Boise is afraid of the babies. He likes, however, to sleep in the baby carriage and pretend he's human.
Last night, Cathreen said we should buy him a cat carriage. I didn't know these existed. I don't say anything in response.
Cathreen's hand has healed as much as one could expect. The bumps are gone, or at least receded--they come up when she's stressed out. This will always keep me careful. I tell her I want to spend more time with her, and she says to wait until America. She says she has only this last month and a half with her family. I think I am not too selfish to agree to this.
Meanwhile, apartment hunting is like God poking me with a stick.
The injuries the babies give themselves: that slap to the head, a scratch across the face. Cathreen worries that Boise may have made the scratch, but it's not deep enough, and Boise is afraid of the babies. He likes, however, to sleep in the baby carriage and pretend he's human.
Last night, Cathreen said we should buy him a cat carriage. I didn't know these existed. I don't say anything in response.
Cathreen's hand has healed as much as one could expect. The bumps are gone, or at least receded--they come up when she's stressed out. This will always keep me careful. I tell her I want to spend more time with her, and she says to wait until America. She says she has only this last month and a half with her family. I think I am not too selfish to agree to this.
Meanwhile, apartment hunting is like God poking me with a stick.
1.27.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#9)
On the lunar new year, Cathreen and I bow to her mother and give her money. Her sister bows and gives money as well. She bends the baby into a bow and the baby gets money from his grandmother. Then Cathreen has the baby bow to us and we give it money, too. There is this exchange and later an exchange with the other baby, when Cathreen's other sister arrives. We pass the babies off and everything changes hands.
A sort of baby envy, the desire for love, crops up. It's like we're competing for their attention. The two mothers are glad to get the babies out of their hands, and we're desperate for them to grab our fingers and try to eat them like their own.
Or maybe I just think this because Ji-hwan, the older baby, has forgotten me and refuses to remember. It bothers me that my existence can be so thorougly erased.
For dinner we eat the whole spread, which we also ate for breakfast. We watch Kung-fu Panda with the dogs on our feet.
The next morning, we go to Cathreen's grandmother's. On the way I start Saramago's Blindness for the third time. I can't get into it. The narrator is a talkative, distracting bastard.
Awkwardness and lunar new year food ensues. Then I'm on the couch reading, and something happens. I forget that we're not all blind. For a moment, I'd thought we were. I don't know how this happened, but I am ensnared by the book.
And as I'm reading, Ji-hwan turns to me and remembers. How strange.
Later we leave Cathreen's mom there with her mom and return home. I fall asleep in the car, thinking I've got as much control over communication as the babies. Exhausting, trying to let people know what they can't understand.
I write for a few hours and am somewhat productive. Cathreen calls to say she's going to bed. She says Isul had two seizures--she's epileptic--and Jangoon kept attacking her and stressing her out. Cathreen says her mom said if it happened one more time, Jangoon was out. Boise patrolled the area and slept next to Isul, watching over her health. Poor dog: surgery, seizures. She's 77 in dog years. She's probably already losing her mind.
When I get home I eat more lunar new year food and sleep beside Cathreen on the electric blanket and try not to make too much noise and ask myself what I want and answer with a greedy amount of things and feel bad for animals.
I tutor in the morning and we go to Cathreen's second sister's house, reuinted wth the babies. I didn't know we were here for her birthday, and then there's a cake and we're singing, and in the middle of eating, Ji-hwan slaps his head against the table and we're stunned.
A sort of baby envy, the desire for love, crops up. It's like we're competing for their attention. The two mothers are glad to get the babies out of their hands, and we're desperate for them to grab our fingers and try to eat them like their own.
Or maybe I just think this because Ji-hwan, the older baby, has forgotten me and refuses to remember. It bothers me that my existence can be so thorougly erased.
For dinner we eat the whole spread, which we also ate for breakfast. We watch Kung-fu Panda with the dogs on our feet.
The next morning, we go to Cathreen's grandmother's. On the way I start Saramago's Blindness for the third time. I can't get into it. The narrator is a talkative, distracting bastard.
Awkwardness and lunar new year food ensues. Then I'm on the couch reading, and something happens. I forget that we're not all blind. For a moment, I'd thought we were. I don't know how this happened, but I am ensnared by the book.
And as I'm reading, Ji-hwan turns to me and remembers. How strange.
Later we leave Cathreen's mom there with her mom and return home. I fall asleep in the car, thinking I've got as much control over communication as the babies. Exhausting, trying to let people know what they can't understand.
I write for a few hours and am somewhat productive. Cathreen calls to say she's going to bed. She says Isul had two seizures--she's epileptic--and Jangoon kept attacking her and stressing her out. Cathreen says her mom said if it happened one more time, Jangoon was out. Boise patrolled the area and slept next to Isul, watching over her health. Poor dog: surgery, seizures. She's 77 in dog years. She's probably already losing her mind.
When I get home I eat more lunar new year food and sleep beside Cathreen on the electric blanket and try not to make too much noise and ask myself what I want and answer with a greedy amount of things and feel bad for animals.
I tutor in the morning and we go to Cathreen's second sister's house, reuinted wth the babies. I didn't know we were here for her birthday, and then there's a cake and we're singing, and in the middle of eating, Ji-hwan slaps his head against the table and we're stunned.
1.25.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#8)
I try to enslave my friends into finding an apartment for me. Actually, some of them agreed to this before they knew what they were getting themselves into. My friend Kirstin promises to call a real estate agent and does. I send her a Korean smiley-face, which I no longer think is weird: ^___^
I've forgotten what's weird and what's not. I send her this one then: OTL --that's a person who drank too much or something, bent against the floor.
Cathreen's mom says Jangoon keeps attacking the other dogs because he needs more love. I don't know whether I believe this. I guess I believe it. I guess I can see how it's true. But I still don't like him.
In the afternoon, Cathreen's mom and sister line up all the old appliances, like tin men, by the door. "Recycle," my mother-in-law explains. This, I understand, is for the new year, the second new year, the one with the moon. Again get rid of the old and embrace the new.
Saturday, they clean the spare room full of closets. Cathreen's stuff is everywhere, so she's in, too. I can see this stressing her out. Later the stress manifests, and it takes a couple days until she's back to normal.
Sunday, they cook all day. It's all so much work, but the first day represents the rest of the year, so they feel obliged I guess. Maybe it's good to have two new years. Maybe this one is like a do-over.
After their months of depression in America, the in-laws worry that we will change in Boston and begin to hate each other and Cathreen will have to come back to Korea. Michigan was that bad. I blame that state. My life has changed because of Michigan.
They were so depressed there they think they can't trust Americans. The baby, though, I should have reminded them, is American like me.
I've forgotten what's weird and what's not. I send her this one then: OTL --that's a person who drank too much or something, bent against the floor.
Cathreen's mom says Jangoon keeps attacking the other dogs because he needs more love. I don't know whether I believe this. I guess I believe it. I guess I can see how it's true. But I still don't like him.
In the afternoon, Cathreen's mom and sister line up all the old appliances, like tin men, by the door. "Recycle," my mother-in-law explains. This, I understand, is for the new year, the second new year, the one with the moon. Again get rid of the old and embrace the new.
Saturday, they clean the spare room full of closets. Cathreen's stuff is everywhere, so she's in, too. I can see this stressing her out. Later the stress manifests, and it takes a couple days until she's back to normal.
Sunday, they cook all day. It's all so much work, but the first day represents the rest of the year, so they feel obliged I guess. Maybe it's good to have two new years. Maybe this one is like a do-over.
After their months of depression in America, the in-laws worry that we will change in Boston and begin to hate each other and Cathreen will have to come back to Korea. Michigan was that bad. I blame that state. My life has changed because of Michigan.
They were so depressed there they think they can't trust Americans. The baby, though, I should have reminded them, is American like me.
1.23.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#7)
The poodle, Jangoon, keeps attacking the other dogs. This may be why I'm having dreams about dog attacks. Maybe I empathize with the other dogs.
He attacks Isul when I come home from writing at a cafe. Cathreen's mom hugs him and I hug Isul and ask her if she's okay, in Korean. She whines and makes this pathetic noise.
Later I pick up Cathreen from work and she reminds me that Isul has to get surgery--she has a kidney stone or a gall stone, a stone somewhere inside her. Cathreen says her sister also has to get surgery, because the doctors in America fucked up her stitches or something, I can't be sure. Her mom wants to wait until the new year, the lunar new year, because this the real start to the year in Korea, and she wants it to start well.
We will have to take care of the surgery patients, so one will follow the other. We can't handle two surgeries at the same time. Cathreen and I also have to get a visa for her to marry me and go to America, and I have to find us an apartment and plan our wedding and get a job.
When I wake up, Boise has thrown up on Cathreen's computer. That's three times, I think, in a week. Maybe he is trying to tell us something. I can't get the smell out of the carpet. I sleep the next night with the stench of his vomit in my dreams. I dream about publishing.
Fitzgerald wrote his first novel to get famous and rich and win Zelda, and all of that happened. Yesterday I read a bunch of interviews with agents and sank into a couple hours' depression.
Now I apartment-hunt. I feel like this is impossible. I feel like I am running through Tokyo and Godzilla is eating all of the apartments and I am trying to find one that he will not touch. Except he has good taste.
Outside this room, I can hear the baby crying.
He attacks Isul when I come home from writing at a cafe. Cathreen's mom hugs him and I hug Isul and ask her if she's okay, in Korean. She whines and makes this pathetic noise.
Later I pick up Cathreen from work and she reminds me that Isul has to get surgery--she has a kidney stone or a gall stone, a stone somewhere inside her. Cathreen says her sister also has to get surgery, because the doctors in America fucked up her stitches or something, I can't be sure. Her mom wants to wait until the new year, the lunar new year, because this the real start to the year in Korea, and she wants it to start well.
We will have to take care of the surgery patients, so one will follow the other. We can't handle two surgeries at the same time. Cathreen and I also have to get a visa for her to marry me and go to America, and I have to find us an apartment and plan our wedding and get a job.
When I wake up, Boise has thrown up on Cathreen's computer. That's three times, I think, in a week. Maybe he is trying to tell us something. I can't get the smell out of the carpet. I sleep the next night with the stench of his vomit in my dreams. I dream about publishing.
Fitzgerald wrote his first novel to get famous and rich and win Zelda, and all of that happened. Yesterday I read a bunch of interviews with agents and sank into a couple hours' depression.
Now I apartment-hunt. I feel like this is impossible. I feel like I am running through Tokyo and Godzilla is eating all of the apartments and I am trying to find one that he will not touch. Except he has good taste.
Outside this room, I can hear the baby crying.
1.21.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#6)
In the morning, I wake up to move the car because I've parked it in a small spot and Cathreen's mom can not get out. When I get back into bed, I remember the dreams I was having last night.
One was about the dogs. I was in a house I didn't know, with Cathreen, and it was our house. The dogs kept attacking me, biting my hands. This didn't seem to hurt, but it was annoying and scared me. I locked myself in the bedroom, but the door was like cloth and was coming undone at the seams. The dogs rammed their heads against it and I tried to push them back and they bit me. Cathreen was fine. I heard a man in another room, and I knew he was pure evil. I knew I was not evil enough to incite the dogs like this.
As I write this, I realize the house was my parents'. What does this mean?
The other dream I had was about a man with a roomful of trophies. I admired this man, not for the trophies, which were sad, but for his belief in himself. A woman with long fingernails stole one of the trophies, and broke it, and then I pitied the man. This dream was narrated in the third person. The man was never in the dream, only the room, and me, and the long fingernails, and the, in the end, headless trophy.
When I went to move the car, a man came down behind me and moved the car next to me, so they would have gotten out all right.
Now I can't sleep. I think about how Cathreen said, when she woke up, that her hand hurt. Her bump, the ganglion or whatever it is, was larger than before. She said maybe Boise had bitten her in her sleep. I hoped I hadn't turned over on top of it.
Later I hear Boise meowing from inside one of the other rooms. I search him down. I open the right door, and he comes out. He was trapped. He must have followed the sister-in-law in, looking for some attention.
One was about the dogs. I was in a house I didn't know, with Cathreen, and it was our house. The dogs kept attacking me, biting my hands. This didn't seem to hurt, but it was annoying and scared me. I locked myself in the bedroom, but the door was like cloth and was coming undone at the seams. The dogs rammed their heads against it and I tried to push them back and they bit me. Cathreen was fine. I heard a man in another room, and I knew he was pure evil. I knew I was not evil enough to incite the dogs like this.
As I write this, I realize the house was my parents'. What does this mean?
The other dream I had was about a man with a roomful of trophies. I admired this man, not for the trophies, which were sad, but for his belief in himself. A woman with long fingernails stole one of the trophies, and broke it, and then I pitied the man. This dream was narrated in the third person. The man was never in the dream, only the room, and me, and the long fingernails, and the, in the end, headless trophy.
When I went to move the car, a man came down behind me and moved the car next to me, so they would have gotten out all right.
Now I can't sleep. I think about how Cathreen said, when she woke up, that her hand hurt. Her bump, the ganglion or whatever it is, was larger than before. She said maybe Boise had bitten her in her sleep. I hoped I hadn't turned over on top of it.
Later I hear Boise meowing from inside one of the other rooms. I search him down. I open the right door, and he comes out. He was trapped. He must have followed the sister-in-law in, looking for some attention.
1.20.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#5)
Here are some good things about living with a mother-in-law and a sister-in-law:
For one, they clean. They are both endlessly cleaning. Boise loves to lie in the spots they've just finished cleaning. He thinks Cathreen and I are messy and don't clean enough. My sister-in-law, during her depression in America, cleaned compulsively, so we have to watch out for that, but the good is the floor is no longer covered in shit.
Also, they cook. We eat well. We have more energy. We don't worry about who will cook tonight or who will clean the dishes. The chores used to give Cathreen a lot of stress, because I'm slower to do them than she is and yet agreed to be the one responsible.
Third, the baby makes Cathreen endlessly happy. Cathreen endlessly happy makes me happy but also a little jealous of the baby. I can take it, though. I'm at least twice as mature as he is. I can speak, though sometimes this is a plus and sometimes not.
The in-laws' depressing life in America makes us remember we have a good life.
For one, they clean. They are both endlessly cleaning. Boise loves to lie in the spots they've just finished cleaning. He thinks Cathreen and I are messy and don't clean enough. My sister-in-law, during her depression in America, cleaned compulsively, so we have to watch out for that, but the good is the floor is no longer covered in shit.
Also, they cook. We eat well. We have more energy. We don't worry about who will cook tonight or who will clean the dishes. The chores used to give Cathreen a lot of stress, because I'm slower to do them than she is and yet agreed to be the one responsible.
Third, the baby makes Cathreen endlessly happy. Cathreen endlessly happy makes me happy but also a little jealous of the baby. I can take it, though. I'm at least twice as mature as he is. I can speak, though sometimes this is a plus and sometimes not.
The in-laws' depressing life in America makes us remember we have a good life.
1.18.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#4)
Today I think the power rankings are stupid. Yesterday I thought they were hilarious.
Boise threw up yesterday, not hair like usual, only food. He must be sick. When the baby throws up, it is supposedly not like vomit, but I think it is. Right now Boise is hunting something that can't be seen. Maybe once he catches it, he will show me. Maybe he will eat it.
Cathreen said the in-laws had a terrible time in America. This does not bode well. This hangs doom over our impending move. I ensure Cathreen that Nowheresville, Michigan, in the middle of winter, is not like Boston. She hugs me. So far she is still looking forward to seeing snow.
When Cathreen comes home from tutoring, she will disappear into the room with the baby and I will think about when I will have her all to myself. Last night I held her and thought something very unoriginal but sweet.
I have a lot to prepare for our new life. I couldn't sleep much because my back hurt and my stomach hurt and it felt like an entire section of my body was out of place, and now I am tired but having a good day, not to jinx it.
Boise threw up yesterday, not hair like usual, only food. He must be sick. When the baby throws up, it is supposedly not like vomit, but I think it is. Right now Boise is hunting something that can't be seen. Maybe once he catches it, he will show me. Maybe he will eat it.
Cathreen said the in-laws had a terrible time in America. This does not bode well. This hangs doom over our impending move. I ensure Cathreen that Nowheresville, Michigan, in the middle of winter, is not like Boston. She hugs me. So far she is still looking forward to seeing snow.
When Cathreen comes home from tutoring, she will disappear into the room with the baby and I will think about when I will have her all to myself. Last night I held her and thought something very unoriginal but sweet.
I have a lot to prepare for our new life. I couldn't sleep much because my back hurt and my stomach hurt and it felt like an entire section of my body was out of place, and now I am tired but having a good day, not to jinx it.
1.17.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#3)
It's like I'm living alone. This essay will not be too interesting, I think. I get an idea.
The first household power rankings:
1. The baby - the baby was born in America, so he is American, like me. This, though, doesn't give him his power. His power comes from being without words we understand. His power comes from a voice that cannot explain itself so is always demanding. His power comes from his tiny adorable size.
2. The mother-in-law - today the mother-in-law felt dizzy. We all respected her dizziness. She went to bed early and we treated her like a powerful object that should not be disturbed.
3. The cat - Boise has free reign of the house, and because of Cathreen and me, always wins his battles with the dogs. Because of Cathreen, he is number 3 and not lower. He has the power of being a cat and the power of being her cat.
4. t. the fiancee and the sister-in-law - the fiancee and the sister-in-law take care of the baby. They are in there now, talking about the baby. When I asked Cathreen what they were talking about, she said, "sisterhood." She said it was only for girls. She nibbled on the baby's toes. Now I suspect they are talking about the baby, not sisterhood. They have a little of the baby's power, plus their own.
6. the poodle - Jangoon, the poodle, is king of the dogs. Because he gets his way and I don't want him to, he is ranked number 6, not number 7. Because Boise regularly defeats him and he doesn't see it coming--Boise is an expert at sneak attacks--he is ranked number 6, not number 3. He bares his teeth more than dogs should. He is a barker and was adopted from an owner that beat him, adopted like me.
7. t. me and the shitsu - I am smarter than the shitsu but not as small and not as used to getting my way. The shitsu, Bosul, doesn't understand that anyone else could matter. Therefore she always matters. I'm maybe 3-3 against the dogs, but I always give Boise what he wants. The shitsu whimpers for food. When I eat alone, I am 3-0 against the dogs. When someone else is around, the dogs are 3-0 against me. I cleaned up Bosul's pee today; maybe I should be ranked below her.
9. the terrier - Isul is not a pure terrier, she's mixed up. Poor Isul is 0-3 against Jangoon. She beats Bosul, because she thinks she is Bosul's mom, but she can't get what she wants like Bosul does. For now, the best we can say for her is she shows potential for power. Potentially, she is very powerful, but I like her when she is not powerful. Then she covets love.
The first household power rankings:
1. The baby - the baby was born in America, so he is American, like me. This, though, doesn't give him his power. His power comes from being without words we understand. His power comes from a voice that cannot explain itself so is always demanding. His power comes from his tiny adorable size.
2. The mother-in-law - today the mother-in-law felt dizzy. We all respected her dizziness. She went to bed early and we treated her like a powerful object that should not be disturbed.
3. The cat - Boise has free reign of the house, and because of Cathreen and me, always wins his battles with the dogs. Because of Cathreen, he is number 3 and not lower. He has the power of being a cat and the power of being her cat.
4. t. the fiancee and the sister-in-law - the fiancee and the sister-in-law take care of the baby. They are in there now, talking about the baby. When I asked Cathreen what they were talking about, she said, "sisterhood." She said it was only for girls. She nibbled on the baby's toes. Now I suspect they are talking about the baby, not sisterhood. They have a little of the baby's power, plus their own.
6. the poodle - Jangoon, the poodle, is king of the dogs. Because he gets his way and I don't want him to, he is ranked number 6, not number 7. Because Boise regularly defeats him and he doesn't see it coming--Boise is an expert at sneak attacks--he is ranked number 6, not number 3. He bares his teeth more than dogs should. He is a barker and was adopted from an owner that beat him, adopted like me.
7. t. me and the shitsu - I am smarter than the shitsu but not as small and not as used to getting my way. The shitsu, Bosul, doesn't understand that anyone else could matter. Therefore she always matters. I'm maybe 3-3 against the dogs, but I always give Boise what he wants. The shitsu whimpers for food. When I eat alone, I am 3-0 against the dogs. When someone else is around, the dogs are 3-0 against me. I cleaned up Bosul's pee today; maybe I should be ranked below her.
9. the terrier - Isul is not a pure terrier, she's mixed up. Poor Isul is 0-3 against Jangoon. She beats Bosul, because she thinks she is Bosul's mom, but she can't get what she wants like Bosul does. For now, the best we can say for her is she shows potential for power. Potentially, she is very powerful, but I like her when she is not powerful. Then she covets love.
1.15.2009
Two In-laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#2)
An hour later the snow is gone and Boise is asleep. In Boston the snow would cover him, but he won't be allowed outside.
I wake him up, stroking his fur. He complains, then loves it.
In the evening we pick up the in-laws (and nephew). I buy chicken at Popeye's, expecting them to be hungry. I know that flight. They say they've eaten too much chicken, in America, and are sick of it. I know that feeling, in reverse.
We get home and the dogs go crazy. Cathreen's second sister and brother-in-law are with us and two babies fill the house with sound, creating little black holes of attention.
By the next day I know I have lost Cathreen to the baby. I miss her.
I wake him up, stroking his fur. He complains, then loves it.
In the evening we pick up the in-laws (and nephew). I buy chicken at Popeye's, expecting them to be hungry. I know that flight. They say they've eaten too much chicken, in America, and are sick of it. I know that feeling, in reverse.
We get home and the dogs go crazy. Cathreen's second sister and brother-in-law are with us and two babies fill the house with sound, creating little black holes of attention.
By the next day I know I have lost Cathreen to the baby. I miss her.
1.13.2009
Two In-Laws, a Baby, Three Dogs, and a Cat (#1)
It's snowing and Cathreen's mother, sister, and our nephew are arriving tonight. We will all be living together, with her family's dogs and our cat. In one apartment.
Boise watches the snow fall, carelessly perched on his cat tower. Cathreen calls to tell me not to open the windows. He might jump out trying to catch a snowflake.
Boise watches the snow fall, carelessly perched on his cat tower. Cathreen calls to tell me not to open the windows. He might jump out trying to catch a snowflake.
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