themes

Woke up at 5:30 am, course I did fall asleep last night before 11...
The other day Gillian wanted me to wake her up at 4:30 am so that she could do her homework because she was too tired at night. I said," No way, the earliest I'll wake you up is 5:30" and I set the alarm accordingly. At 5:30 waking her was impossible, getting nuts from a tree by yelling at it, so I returned to bed and tried to wake her at seven..still impossible. Around 8 she was dressed and going out the door with her jacket and book bag, pale and zombie like. " Gil, are you sad?"
" No, I'm just tired"
"Do you have a temperature?"
"No." I kiss her forehead to test. In fact, no fever.
" You can stay home, I don't think you should go to school."
"ok", she says,"don't worry I don't have any tests at school today."
" Only on the condition that you clean up your room, though."
" ok, can I go back to bed?"
"sure". 20 seconds later, fully dressed she was back in her bed deep asleep.She didn't wake up until 6:30 pm---18 hours and 3 inches later from when she'd first crashed.

My mind is scattered all about this morning.Themes; Men, women and empathy. My terrace. Public and private. Family. Writing. Resentment.Teaching.Learning. Men,women and individuality. Reality tv.Vacations. Computer ignorance. Men, women and arguing. Aging. Carl Jung's dream symbology the house and what's happening in a person's life and personality.

Meanwhile I've had another piano lesson. More Jingle Bells, and self assigned Silent Night cause atleast it doesn't have the Jingle Bells beat.'Air' because Mozart wrote it and at this point any classics hold more appeal than the folky tunes. Maestro assigned me Twinkle, twinkle little star because Mozart also wrote that. I am working on variations of Twinkle. Twinkle,twinkle,twankle Twankle little stars and real bad ankles, for example.

I confess that I'm having to adjust to the fact that my bro, his wife, and now my mother may sometimes read this blog. Mom was concerned about my heating. ( It's much better since I closed all the blinds and now live in artificial lighting.) She should maybe be concerned about my knee which I smacked so hard on a rock in the sea last summer that it made a loud underwater crack sound and hurt for a few weeks after. Last week I smacked the same bad knee on my iron heater in the bathroom when I was crouching down to take the trash out of the bin, and SCREAMED it hurt so bad. I limped that night and still can't step out of a bus onto that leg. Hairline fractures on my kneecap. Don't know if or what Dr.s can do about that sort of thing.

Last night before going to bed I was thinking about this blog, how I had been incapable of writing in it for a day or 2. Some sort of shock. Like a little girl when she discovers that her diary has been exposed to someone, she might alter what she might've written in it otherwise. Of course that is part of the attraction of blogs, being able to peek into other peoples diaries. I'd do it. I'm not yet together with the exhibitionist aspect of these things, yet waking up this morning I understood in a way I hadn't exactly before, why when people write autobiographies sometimes the people who have played intimate roles in their lives are resentful. Not just for the exposure, but for the lack of control over the tone of exposure, or for all the additives; interpretations, judgments, opinions etc. Intimacy and trust-other themes.
When I wrote the other day about a skirmish with Pippo I knew I wasn't going into details. Once after a another prolonged fight with him I said I wish he'd learn three things; Not to blame, criticize, and judge. The next sentence that came out of his mouth contained all three so atleast I had a good laugh, he did too, when I pointed this out to him. For the following hours he REALLY tried to watch his words and decide whether they were blaming criticizing or judging cause being laughed at unintentionally is echoes of school boy frightening. School boys, so busy coming up with anything to laugh at anybody about (sense of humor attractive to girls), but not always so hot about sitting on the same hot seat.Hot seats are great when you're bum is cold but during heat waves god awful.
Finding something funny is perhaps the best way to exit a fight.
Pippo's mind can be a whole new theme.

Today, supposedly we'll be driving to his grandmother's house in Capena, a little agricultural village in the Rome outskirts. She lives in an apartment in city (Monte Sacro)buts owns this property where she grows her fruit and olives and allows Pippo's bother's exwife and daughter and ex in-laws live. He wants to get bags of dirt for his garden, a friend's broken speaker, and pieces of drum kits stored there. We've been invited to lunch at his Mom's too. His Mom's cousin Carlo and his wife, Antonio, Granny Emilia and maybe also his bro's girlfriend Anna will be there.
Family is survival here, ok, great. But when it gets into twice removed cousins etc., I simply hope that they might be interesting people.
Mom--I believe all you have to do is click on the -add comments- word at the end of an entry then follow directions. In bocca lupo..