paisleypiper's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- unnecessary worlds Today I am blessed with quiet -- no one is here yet and I'm getting so much done I can take a few minutes and update my diary. Yesterday I thought about unnecessary worlds and decided I would write a story with that title. My boss, the esquire, was telling our new hire about the dress situation in the office. She said that I interpreted office dress for a younger set and that she thought I had other priorities than my wardrobe... and she kept digger her hole deeper ... until it was clear to everyone that I don't give one lick about clothes and think only of poetry. And in some circles this would be fine -- but not around here. It is all about really high heels and hose and suits and tight clothing. Of course the new hires fit into that model and the little talk was meant to make certain neither one of them takes after me. There can only be one Piper in any bunch and my weird shoes are always enough for any office to feel adequately edgey. Even though I feel as though I have tamed right down and am the most conservative dresser around. In the great battle between substance and matter, substance matters more to me than the more material aspects of fashion. Mother tried to pull the wool over my eyes and send me to some tiny town with the Florida relatives. I don't anything about the Florida relatives. I've never been alone in a room with the Florida relatives and yet she suggests that Quinn and I spend our Thanksgiving and the weekend driving them to some tiny town where my grandmother lives. This town doesn't even have a town hall it is so small and stretched out along the highway so folks know there's no point in stopping. Meanwhile, back in the city, the favorite aunt comes to town and everyone else has a happy Thanksgiving. I put a stop to it, but I can't quite get my head around the thing that has always puzzeled me about my mother -- that she competes with and is willing to ruin the holidays of her only daughter. It used to make me feel really bad about myself. She and her husband always had a way of picking on me and belittling me in front of family. And now that I'm all grown up, don't know my family and feel as though they are all there just to dislike me, she wonders why. But on the up side, I no longer let it bother me. It is such a source of power to control my reaction. To say, I don't think so. I don't think we'll be spending our holiday driving the Florida relatives out of town. I think there are rental cars and maps for that. The painful truth is that my mother is happier when she only deals with me during lunch here and there and on an acquaintance level. I keep the relationship there and find relief in her relief. I think I've just run over to Quinn's family and sometimes I try to pretend like I belong there. All of these constructions seem like unnecessary worlds. I construct great worlds to accommodate the way my mother does and doesn't feel about me. To accommodate my lack of interest in expressing femininty through high-heeled pumps and high-fashion suits. It almost seems as though to be human is to build worlds over and over again, to divide, to unite, to reconcile, to rectify, to recreate. 8:52 a.m. - 2003-09-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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