Home Away From Home That Used to Be Home

So while in a way its really kind of nice to be disconnected for a couple of days, the problem is that upon returninjg there's so many different things I find myself wanting to write about that it becomes this jumbled cacauphany of thoughts in my head and I can't even figure out which one is shouting the loudest.

I had a wonderful but hectic and slightly scrambled trip home, ostensibly to see the follks though as usual I ended up seeing far more of various friends than I did of the folks. I think one of these trips I need to call a n official family cocooning and see no one else. I always feel terribly guilty about spending time there away from them, despite their many assurances that they want me to see my friends.

Saturday I finally got to see Vixanne and the Schmoopster, which was one of my number one priorities. Vixanne had a stillbirth (I copmpletely fucked up and called it a miscarriage Saturday and am still beating myself up for that one...doh! I even knew the correct term...it just flew out of my mouth) about 2 and a half months ago and has been on a journey that I know is incredibly hard. Grief is something that completely fucks with your perception of everything...it alters your entire existance and it feels like each stage will never end and any other existance is wholly unimaginable despite it being exactly what you long for. So I wanted to just spend some time with them and be with them, whatever that might mean in the moment. I got an extra prize in the crackerjacks box, as Kristoise happened to be in town that very weekend (she lives in the Rockies...literally) and so we all made a lovely day of it. What I noticed, besides the fact that we are all indeed getting older (gracefully!), is that I found Vixanne to be changed. Not a bad change...just changed. Marked. It's kinds of unavoidable, and I don't think its a bad mark..I don't know at all how to explain it except that suddenly she's more complex...there are more layers. And I found her and all her layers to be so very beautiful and powerful. I feel like I don't even want to write about it because I can't do it justice.

My Mom and I also had a really interesting and very detailed conversation about sex Saturday night (after a very long dinner and much wine). It was both scary and really affirming all at the same time. We were excitedly gossiping and giggling in great detail, as I've done with friends...but never to such an extent with Mom before. Out of respect for her, i'll refrain from posting any details, but I did discover she and I are far more alike in the sack than I would have ever thought! Evidently sexual tastes are somewhat genetic. Hmmm. Be very scared.

I also got to see my super-cool suburban radical mom friend who I had not seen or talked to in a while, Ms. Fiery RebelMom. Ms. Fiery RebelMom went with me to protest in the pouring rain the day we began this travesty in Iraq. Ms. Fiery RebelMom and I used to spend all day at work writing e-mails and running to eachother's desks laughing hysterically. We still laugh hysterically. And talk about the important stuff in life too in our roundabout way. She drove 10 hours to come see me do a play last fall, and we spent a blissful 4 hours afterwards just talking about everything. She has the best stories ever, and understands my wacky sense of humor and weirdness and yes, even my dark spots, better than most people. Although she already has a twin, we must have been in past lives. I hope she's an inkling of who I will become as I grow through life, because she's one hell of a woman and our friendship never ceases to surprise me.

While I want to tell all the fabulous details of my wonderful birthday weekend. I've just now decided that I want more to write some kind of a Valentine's post. So I think I will.