My friends are so awesome, they surprised me with an early birthday cake at Kim’s barbeque last night.
I get the feeling my liver is going to br hurting a lot this week. Call it a preminition, if you will.
It’s been a strange week so far anyway, between going to funerals and friends getting robbed, poetry readings and seeing other friends from such faraway universes like England and L.A.
And stuff to work on. What am I doing on here?
Monday: I get into town at about 6 in the morning. My cousin Corey picks me up from the airport, and when we get to the house, my uncle is already up and getting ready to go out and wave signs for the day to get some last-minute campaigning done. My aunt Judy wakes up, tells me that she’s going to work for a couple of hours, then she’s going down to Schenley Park to wave some signs. I head downstairs to unpack and nap. Around 2 in the afternoon I wake up to my cousin Heidy, with kids in tow, telling me to get an “O’Connor for Mayor” shirt on, ’cause we’re going down to Schenley to wave signs.
Trust me, I felt dumb doing it, and I got a few middle fingers and thumbs down, but the reaction was positive, for the most part.
Before going to bed, I watched Uncle Bobby get interviewed by every dammed newscast in the city and realized the surreality was beginning.
Tuesday: everybody was out running around from poll to poll, trying to get last-minute votes. I was at home, trying to adjust to the eastern time zone. Bobby came home to take a nap before the party at the Union Sheraton. When we get down there, it’s complete and utter chaos: family and friends and press are everywhere. I say hi to everybody until Heidy says Bobby wants me upstairs with the family in a room. Apparently, this was a big controversy with a few people afterwards, but it was strictly immediate family. We hang out up there for a couple of hours, watching numbers come in, and my uncle paces a little, sits down to look at his acceptance speech, and I can tell he’s stressing. It’s an emotional night for him. Around 9:30, it’s becoming clearer that Bobby’s winning, one of the other candidates calls him and concedes, everybody in the family’s still stressed out and cranky even though this was the view from the window:
About 10:00, Bobby feels confident enough to want to go downstairs. Almost 50% of the precincts are in, and he’s hovering around 50% of the votes, so everybody gets ready. He turns to me and says, “I want you near the stage, since you’re representing your Dad.” I almost lose it once. My cousin, Father Terry, gives us a quick prayer before heading down, and as we’re getting into the lift to go downstairs my uncle says to me, “I wish Timmy was here to see this.” “Me too,” I said. We go down to the VIP room first, and he’s thanking all the big donators and hobnobs for a little bit. I have some cheese and call my brother to let him know. We eventually get walking to the downstairs ballroom so Bobby can make his acceptance speech, and I’m wondering what I’m doing there. I wasn’t expecting all this stuff. But I stoof on the side and watched my Uncle Bobby accept the Democratic nomination for the Mayor of Pittsburgh. I can see where I get my ease for public speaking from. During the party, I say hi to all the rest of my family I hadn’t seen yet, and walk around in a haze. I have a hot dog and call it a night.
Wednesday: My uncle and his family are on every front page. A big breakfast before heading to Kennywood for the day. Many rides on collercoasters and carnival rides were had, as well as a nice but small burn on my face. Jocelyn was jealous. You would have been too, trust me.
Thursday-Saturday: a bit of drinking, a bit of eating, a bit of walking. Saturday night brought performance art in the form of bageuettes being thrown at the audience, and then a DJ playing some LCD Soundsystem afterwards. There was a depressing discussion on the Vegas arts scene, and about my future status in the poetry/slam scene. During these days there was a lot of time spent thinking and talking about moving options, but a card reading confirmed what my gut’s been telling me for awhile: chill out, it’s coming. I met Jocelyn’s brother and mom. I miss my mom. I always miss my mom when I go back east, more than I miss my dad, even though it’s his family. Peruvian food, I have found for the second time in my life, is awesome.
And, by the way Scott: Shadyside isn’t so in yer fuckin’ face anymore. It’s got a Gap and a Starbucks and a Banana Republic and a Victoria’s Secret. Sorry to break the news to you.
The thing that’s nice about being back here is that I don’t have to see my last name on every lawn.
But the best part was productivity: 2 poems and an idea for a short story. I need to write more short stories, and I can feel my brain starting to open back up to that again, which is nice.
Home. A lot to catch up on tomorrow, including laundry.
Die now.
I have the whole week to write about, including feeling depressed tonight at an art function on the Northside.
My accent’s come back with a vengance. Awesome.
I want to leave. I don’t want to leave. I miss you.
So. Turns out that my aunt and uncle’s DSL line also acts as a wireless antenna. This, is awesome.
Since I’ve been here I’ve been the busiest I’ve been in months, so it’s a little getting used to. I realize I’m forgetting things. Except for my name, since my uncle’s got signs up in every other yard in his neighborhood.
Yes. Bed.
So. He won. Good times.
I’ve been spending all day at an amusement park, getting probably too much sun. I’m meeting Jocelyn in an hour and a half, and I still haven’t caught up on sleep.
If I haven’t called you back yet, I will tomorrow when I’m coherent.
I will write about it later, but just to remind myself:
–Seeing old friends, and all of us collectively feeling strange to be back on campus
–Feeling strange all day anyway
–Themes: Thomas Mann and teaching as Autobiography
–Picking parts of college to keep and what was crap, memories that stayed and ones that didn’t
–Good God, my old roommate looking absolutely fantastic and me feeling, well, not to put too fine a point on it, fat, but eating okay and working out anyway because I need to
–Suddenly writing this (sort of) bullet list about college memories and a remix I did back in 2000 coming up on random on the playlist
–So, about that possibilty of moving…
I never thought I would be so excited about orange juice, organic fruit, and hard-boiled eggs in my entire life.
Day 2: hanging in there. Wild Oats is my friend.
Actually, there’s a natural foods market opening up near my house, which is absolutely awesome. Or maybe it’s my occasional not-quite-dizziness that’s making things awesome.
I think the hardest part will be tomorrow night. It’s trivia night with Aaron at Buffalo Wild Wings, and even if midnight hits I won’t be indulging in anything, because I have to ease myself back into eating again. So it’s basically fruit until I am surrounded by the goodness that is Cuca’s on Saturday.
It’s been a really good test of my willpower, let me tell you. But it’s working. I haven’t tried to write yet, only because I want to wait for everything to be done, I guess.
Or maybe my body’s waiting until I get to Pittsburgh to have the epiphanies.
One more day. I’m doing it. I can do it. Affirm. Affirm. AFFIRM.
