Just got back from what was supposed to be an outing to the bookstore. But my time was severely limited, because this morning when I mentioned going to the bookstore alone, my husband reacted as though I had said I was off to Italy for a month or two, and would he mind watching our son and maintaining the house till I got back. He wanted to know: Why I should go by myself? Hadn't I been to a bookstore recently? You can't spend any money anyway. Aren't you going to make us breakfast? Why don't you go later with our son? He went on for a bit acting all betrayed by this notion of mine, that I would spend almost two hours alone in a bookstore, before having to come home, as he would be going to work. I sat there very quiet and angry. He actually moved towards me and rested his head on my chest. Which infuriated me. Doesn't he know I am pissed? Tenderness toward him, is not at all what I was feeling. I mentioned that I did have money left on my gift card, that I didn't intend to buy anything anyway, and that I hadn't been alone since school let out. Oh and also, that I had no intention of making them breakfast either way. Why don't they just eat fruit?
This all went on for a bit, with long silent parts. Finally he started to realize that I was indeed angry, and while no longer pleading my case, was forming a grudge that I would hold onto for a good long time. So he said "you better go". And I said "I don't think so". And then it went back and forth like that for a while. Yes, I still wanted to go, and no I wasn't just being obstinate. But now my fun little carefree jaunt, of freedom from whining and harassment, peacefully looking at books, had turned into one of emotional turmoil and burden. There would be guilt and anger. Lots of conflictimg feelings crashing into me as I scanned the titles and tried to sit and read. The price had become too high. I explained this to him, and he kept saying, you better just go, no you aren't betraying us. And then started pushing me out of bed. I got ready, but as I pulled down our driveway, I realized I only had an hour left. I wouldn't be able to sit and read, I wouldn't be relaxed. I decided to go to the library instead, maybe they had the book, and I could just come home with it. They did, but it is out till Aug. 30th. So I took out scads of dvds. When I got home I placed them in a great pile in Bob's eye line, so that his face contorted in all sorts of unpleasant ways (as he imagined I had rented them all from blockbuster which is very close to the bookstore, and hoped that I had rented them instead from the dollar movies which is totally in the opposite direction). "Umm....uh....where did you get those?" he said with forced casualness. I smiled and answered "the library". At which point his features relaxed.
After the library I stopped in Target to look at the book I had wanted to see about, Eat, Pray, Love (I have heard, an overheard several different people talking warmly of it lately). It was there. So was Saving Fish from Drowning, which intrigues me, though farce isn't usually something I enjoy. They both look like intersting journeys to take. I had to get home right away, so I had no time to even read several pages. I shouldn't buy either one, but I wanted both. I picked them up, I put them down. I picked them up, I put them down. Finally I made myself a promise, that if I finish reading the 3 books I am, to varying degrees, reading now, then I can buy these two. Sounds simple I know, but you don't know how i am with books. I don't buy for long periods (well it seems that way to me anyway), and then there is a buying binge, explosion. But this is right, a good decision, and it will help me follow through with the books. It makes no sense to buy more than I read. But I so love having them around, being surrounded by them, knowing they are there. Currently, I am reading Tuck Everlasting. I would say it is a bit young for me, but that doesn't really feel right, as death is the reason I am reading it.
The thing I noticed most about this little trip. It was wonderful to be alone in the car. Driving along through green fields, the radio on. No one talking. Just me. I forgot how much I like that. I came back home, and had to grab my writing notebook, as I had figured some things out that would help me with my story, and as I wrote those down (several times asking my son to be quiet, stop talking legos, et cetera, till I was done), I caught a few more lines, and a pretty way of viewing part of it, that let me understand a whole section of the story more clearly/deeply.
by the bye,
I'm about to rip my hair out over this letterboxing thing. I've figured out that it is because the video camera footage doesn't fit in right, so it is altered to fit. I hate it. I have to wait forever while it does it, then I have to go through all these hoops to get a photo, and undo it, and the new cropping, messes up the composition. I hate it.
4 comments:
I would ditch him if I were you... I am ready for a non committed sexual relationship by the way... should you feel like it?
hmm...what to say, what to say?
The thing about me is, even my fantasy life needs context, and its context always is...true love. True love, courtship, marriage, strangely enough (or rather smartly enough it being a fantasy life and all), the plotline always restarts before the kids actually need to be taken care of.
I have found it odd, that it is so; over the years, I thought maybe it would change but it has not. So being me, I have wondered why and tried to figure it out. I think the reason is, that my greatest fantasy is not about sex, but about a deep abiding connection to someone, a soulmate, and the passion is both physical and spiritual, et cetera. A connection without the physical is friendship, one without the spiritual/emotional is just physical. Which doesn't mean much in my mind, which likes stories and plotlines, and layers of meaning. Just physical is fine, I don't think there is anything wrong with it, it is just not something a yearn for. or want.
So I guess no thank you. Is what I am to say.
Ah Mutley. Always trying.
Taffiny,
There must be balance. There must be equal give and take... or things go way off and that lovely courtship/marriage thing winds up in divorce. Too many moments of deep anger are not good.
I'm hoping this was just a little grumbly thing and now that you've expressed it, you are feeling better.
Writing is a great way to get it out, sort thoughts and find direction. You write well.
Write often as well.
Bookstores and libraries are almost holy ground for me... love them so much.
I have 6 books on my nightstand right now that I am alternating between, back and forth.
Loved Tuck Everlasting.
Sometimes the younger ones are really touching.
Wilson Rawls 'Where the Red Fern Grows' comes to mind. Read that to a couple of kids recently and cried my eyes out before the end.
Big hugs to you.
Have some tea and a journal. Things will look up.
Scarlett & Viaggiatore
W. Scarlett,
Thank you. For coming by, and sharing.
Oh, I'm not holding anger. Told my mom the whole story and we laughed. That is the thing about existing through words, it can be hard to get tone across. My frustration clearly travels well, but my amusement, not so much.
And I am both easily annoyed and easily amused, so it all works out in the end.
The hard part about me is I like a lot of time alone (more than anyone else I know of), making me not inherently suited to the role of wife and mother. Though they do at times grate on my nerves, being aware of this (about myself) makes me more grateful that I am blessed to have them. For it is surprising that I do have them. I could have easily walked through my whole life alone, and missed out on all they bring me.
I never read 'Where the Red Fern Grows', I'll have to look into it. Though, now that I know it brought you to tears, I'm a bit wary.
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