The worst day for me was the day I found out she had cancer. I was at work, and my sister called me and told me. I was hysterical. I remember Charlotte and Joan holding me while I cried. I didn't stop crying for three days.

The last days of her illness were painful. The day of her death was horrible. The day of her funeral was one of the worst days of my life. But it was when I got that phone call that I really knew. I knew that cancer would probably kill her.

Man, I miss her. I miss her energy, and her humor, and her strength, and her stories. She was an amazing person. But I know she'll always be in my life. She's passed on so much of herself to me-- I've learned so much from her-- she'll never really be gone from my life.

It's worst for my mother, I think. She lost not only her mother, but her best friend. I can't relate to my mother on that level-- we don't have the kind of relationship she had with my grandmother, and I doubt we ever will. We're just too different. We're on different planets sometimes.

I wish my mother had more friends, more inner resources, more support from my father. I wish she had more kids, to tell you the truth. I wish she had one in there who was able to relate to her as strongly as her mother related to her. But she doesn't. And it makes me feel guilty as hell. She loves me so much, and I love her, but I can't be the ideal daughter to her-- I can't replace what she's lost. It makes me feel sad and guilty. Not just today. All the time.

Anyway.

So I was fine today, went to work, la la la, and came home to hear a very upset message from my sister. I called her immediately, and found out that they sold the house today. My sister is really upset about it-- she thinks my parents settled for less than they could have gotten, she's worried about the cat, and above all, I think she's in shock at the reality of a new family living in "our" house.

I must admit that it affects me, too. I won't be going back there within the next month. The next time I see the house, it won't be ours anymore. But I live in San Francisco. All my stuff is here. My room at home ceased being my room a long time ago. And so it's easier for me to see it as "just a house." But at the same time, it's going to be weird going back there and not having a place to sleep.

So then I called my mother, and she was just bawling. She's second guessing the decision to sell the house, worried about my sister, worried that the cat is not going to be okay. And missing her mom, of course. There was also some tension between her and my sister-- my mother feigns cheerfulness, my sister gets angry that she's so cheerful about something painful, they fight. So they weren't speaking.

So my mother is crying, my sister's upset, and I don't know what to say to make anyone feel better. Thank god my mother called me back to say that she was going out to dinner with Abby and Ash. I am glad that they're going to be together-- maybe they can help each other feel a little better. Man.

I know they'll adjust-- even the cat. And nobody can take away the memories of living in that house. Part of it is mourning for our childhood, and it's hard to be reminded that you're growing up, growing older. And life goes on, and life is all about change, and blah blah blah. I know all of this. But it's hard knowing that they're in pain, missing my grandmother, mourning the loss of their house, and not being able to do anything to help them.

I feel guilty for being okay. I feel guilty for being here.

And now for something completely different.

Yesterday, I got a chance to go to that paper store that Huck told me about. It's a store in the city that has nice paper for super cheap. I found great paper for my chapbook-- both the cover and the inside pages-- for about $15 per ream. (As opposed to $25 per ream at Kinko's.) It's beautiful! It's blue! It's got little speckles on it!

So then I went over and visited with my friend Hannah for a while-- had a cup of coffee with her and chatted. I just love that this city is so small-- I could just pop by my friend's house for half an hour and say hello.

I then went over to Laurie's house to pick her up. It was her birthday two days ago, and so we were going out for a sort of birthday celebration type of dealie. She'd been gone for seven weeks or something; I was so happy to see her. I gave her a painting I did for her-- it's kind of hard to explain, but it includes little cut out pictures of me, her, and Joey and is sort of a painting/collage. She liked it.

We first went to this little place to go see a friend's band play. (Do I promote the band or keep it on the down low? For now, I guess I'll keep it on the down low.) It was fun-- it's been a while since I've seen a band. And I saw a cute boy there, and I totally think he was checking me out, and I could have totally hit that shit, except I went outside with my friend and when I came back in, he was gone. Damn.

Oh well. I'm not much for picking up guys in bars anyway. In fact, I've never, ever done it.

So then we went to this art gallery in the Mission, right by my school. They were having an opening, and Huck's girlfriend has a wall of art in the exhibit that was opening. She is so, so, so talented. But we were disappointed that Huck wasn't there, and she was busy talking to others, so we didn't stay long.

Next, we headed to a club called 26 Mix, also in the Mission, for dancing. The music was (and I brought home a flyer so I could get this terminology right) "downtempo house nubreaks drum'n'bass." Whatever that means. It was that sort of music that has no words, and just goes on and on, and one song is indistinguishable from the next, and each song lasts twenty minutes.

And there were all these people really getting into it-- every time the DJ would do something (I couldn't tell what he was doing; it sounds like an endless uniform thump thump bump bump thump to me) these guys would yell, "Yeah!" and "Woo!" at him. It made me feel terminally un-hip, because I would much rather have been dancing to Madonna or Adam Ant. But I like to dance, so it was fun anyway.

So that was our night, and I had a great time. Then I went home and even though it was late, I did what I had been dying to do all day: I began working on my chapbook. Not only did I begin, I think I just about finished it. I need to run a couple of the poems past my workshop, but it's mostly finished.

I can't help but suspect that this chapbook will embarrass me five years from now-- the way my five-year-old poems embarrass me today. But if I wait until I have a handful of "perfect" poems, I will never make a chapbook at all! So oh well. I am happy with it today, and that's what counts.

And it's so pretty! And so full of poems! Fifteen poems: that's twenty pages, plus the cover. A lot of bang for your hard earned buck. Huck is doing the cover art this weekend, and promises to have it for me next week. (It's such a cool concept; I can't wait.) Also next week, more paper will become available so I can continue churning out copies.

The official "release date" of the chapbook is August 15, the day of my reading. If you are at the reading, the chapbook will cost you a mere $3. Otherwise, it's $5. (I am hoping to recoup my costs-- ink, paper, envelopes, stamps.) I am now accepting pre-orders. You want a chapbook? Send me some money! I will send you a chapbook! Ooh, this is exciting.

(I was going to sign up for the Amazon thing so people can pay easier, but Amazon would keep 95 cents out of each $5 transaction. It would probably ultimately get me more chapbook sales, but that's such a rip off. I like Amazon and all, but 95 cents? For doing nothing? I think not. So on general principle, we're going to stick with the old fashioned way.)

So that's what's on my mind tonight. Worry, sadness, excitement, anticipation, happiness, guilt, nostalgia, satisfaction. This "life" thing. It's harder than it looks.

"Maybe it was the sudden slackness in her face. Maybe it was the way her small movements stopped. I was holding her hand, and it was still warm. But I feared, I knew, that she was gone."

what i'm reading:
Madame Bovary.

what i'm writing:
I wrote two poems at work today on the back of receipts. It was slow.

what i'm watching:
Four Weddings and a Funeral.

anything:
Oh my living god, does my back ever hurt. I don't know why it's gotten so bad lately. If I'm not wearing my industrial strength bra and I'm working all day, my back goes into spasms. It hurts it hurts. I need a massage.

you learn something new...
I learned the origin of the word serendipity. A customer told me this story, that some guy in an insane asylum sent the Oxford Dictionary a whole bunch of words, and this was one of them. There was also something about a beautiful island and the 1860s... but I was in the middle of my shift so I couldn't write it down.

journal quote of the day:
My mailbox is completely empty today. Did nobody update?

mood ring:
teal