salience
June 3, 2003
Last night, the twins had a slumber party to go to, so it was just the four of us at home: the parentals, my brother and I. A typical, American family.
Now that my mom has no official job, she's found comfort in being a "soccer mom." You know, the typical home-maker, doing all sorts of soccer-mom-ish things. Even though I'm only home at night, I can tell she is happy.
Although it is weird, I must say, walking in the door to the smell of dinner, knowing that she has looked forward to this moment all day. Like she's waiting for my approval, almost trying to make up for all of those years...
Ever since I can remember, she was the one walking in the door and I was the one with dinner ready. It's just odd... We've switched roles, and I don't really mind. Come to think of it, I don't really mind much of anything, anymore. Not even my turning 20 in a few weeks.
...the more I'm home, the more I realize how much I missed my brother during the year. Aside from the fact that he is one of the funniest people I know, he has a ton of interesting things to say. I'm past the point know where I tease him incessantly about playing football. He's proven me wrong and remained smart. The coaches don't allow him to take hard classes (this next year he'll be taking his first honors-type class ever--AP US History and H English)--gotta have room for those two weight lifting classes, y'know--so he's had to prod me for ideas.
Lately, he's on this kick of eventually writing novels to sell in airports. Aside from the kiosks having the latest best sellers, there always seems to be four or five books by no-name people...usually one about technology, a mystery, a romance, or fantasy. He pointed out that they all have something in common--they have too, to appeal to the masses. Otherwise, how would these "authors" make their money? He used that term loosely, because they aren't "authors" by any means. They haven't created a damn thing, to be honest. It's just a recycled formula--just like magazine headlines. No genius, just rubric. Course, from that statement, one could write a tale about a horrible airplane crash and it would sell very well. And that is his precise plan. After playing football for Notre Dame, getting his masters from some prestigious Ivy League, and making his millions. He looks at it almost as a future hobby. :)
I'm rather proud of him, actually. He first approached me about it when I was in Friedman's class, so of course, he wanted to know everything about whatever we happened to be reading at the time. I am happy to report he has an extensive knowledge of Shakespeare and other classics. He loves to tell me how his 10th grade lit class couldn't understand MacBeth and how he corrected his friends for putting down Branagh.
Plus, he really was my constant best friend growing up, and there are so many inside jokes we can reference in a matter of seconds. Well, more like events than jokes. But they're hilarious now--much like why my entire family loves Disney so much: it was a background for so many hard times, things we can laugh about now: a sort of benchmark... it reminds us of how far we've come, you know?
At dinner last night, it was so much fun just to notice how we really do think alike, and say the same things just at the right moment to entertain the parentals, and ourselves. It got to the point where I had to take my contacts out after we had finished dinner because I had been crying so much from laughing.
...and yeah.
That's how it should be, you know?
Now that my mom has no official job, she's found comfort in being a "soccer mom." You know, the typical home-maker, doing all sorts of soccer-mom-ish things. Even though I'm only home at night, I can tell she is happy.
Although it is weird, I must say, walking in the door to the smell of dinner, knowing that she has looked forward to this moment all day. Like she's waiting for my approval, almost trying to make up for all of those years...
Ever since I can remember, she was the one walking in the door and I was the one with dinner ready. It's just odd... We've switched roles, and I don't really mind. Come to think of it, I don't really mind much of anything, anymore. Not even my turning 20 in a few weeks.
...the more I'm home, the more I realize how much I missed my brother during the year. Aside from the fact that he is one of the funniest people I know, he has a ton of interesting things to say. I'm past the point know where I tease him incessantly about playing football. He's proven me wrong and remained smart. The coaches don't allow him to take hard classes (this next year he'll be taking his first honors-type class ever--AP US History and H English)--gotta have room for those two weight lifting classes, y'know--so he's had to prod me for ideas.
Lately, he's on this kick of eventually writing novels to sell in airports. Aside from the kiosks having the latest best sellers, there always seems to be four or five books by no-name people...usually one about technology, a mystery, a romance, or fantasy. He pointed out that they all have something in common--they have too, to appeal to the masses. Otherwise, how would these "authors" make their money? He used that term loosely, because they aren't "authors" by any means. They haven't created a damn thing, to be honest. It's just a recycled formula--just like magazine headlines. No genius, just rubric. Course, from that statement, one could write a tale about a horrible airplane crash and it would sell very well. And that is his precise plan. After playing football for Notre Dame, getting his masters from some prestigious Ivy League, and making his millions. He looks at it almost as a future hobby. :)
I'm rather proud of him, actually. He first approached me about it when I was in Friedman's class, so of course, he wanted to know everything about whatever we happened to be reading at the time. I am happy to report he has an extensive knowledge of Shakespeare and other classics. He loves to tell me how his 10th grade lit class couldn't understand MacBeth and how he corrected his friends for putting down Branagh.
Plus, he really was my constant best friend growing up, and there are so many inside jokes we can reference in a matter of seconds. Well, more like events than jokes. But they're hilarious now--much like why my entire family loves Disney so much: it was a background for so many hard times, things we can laugh about now: a sort of benchmark... it reminds us of how far we've come, you know?
At dinner last night, it was so much fun just to notice how we really do think alike, and say the same things just at the right moment to entertain the parentals, and ourselves. It got to the point where I had to take my contacts out after we had finished dinner because I had been crying so much from laughing.
...and yeah.
That's how it should be, you know?
lasaliente, 07:55
