Although this is abbreviated; my parents came to the city this morning to drop off my computer (hooray! I'll have it hooked up tomorrow night!), and I rode back to CT with them to spend the night tonight. We'll go to the interminably long, excruciatingly dull family picnic tomorrow, and then back to the city for me tomorrow night. So it's not too bad.

But I've been sleepy all day (I didn't get to bed until 3:00 last night) and my earlobe is infected from a cheap earring and I've been getting earaches - I think it's progressing to an ear infection - and that's making me just crabby as all hell.

I love my parents, I do, but man oh man, we do not get along at all on a political basis. Some things they say just rub me the wrong way and I look at them thinking "who are you people?" We were at lunch (and it was otherwise a lovely lunch; my dad likes to take us to Carmine's at 91st and Bway and we always have the shrimp parmesean - yum!) and I was going on and on about how much I loved California, and the weather was so amazing, and oh I could live there, and my dad said something about how he hears that San Diego has the best weather in the country, but he could never live there because it's so close to Mexico, and then he and my mom both concurred about how they don't like the sound of the Spanish language, and they don't like Latin culture, and went on about those lazy immigrants who refuse to learn English (they didn't say anything today but I believe they are both proponents of making English the "national language") and the evils of bilingual education and it's just so damn discouraging. And then later on today my dad was reading a letter from an advice column in the paper and it got my mom going off about how awful it is that there are so many selfish women who leave their kids in daycare to pursue their careers and I am just so surprised sometimes at how resistant they both can be to trying to understand people who are different from them. (Although perhaps I should be saying that about myself, in that I'm not trying to understand where they're coming from in having such different life philosophies than I do?) They just feel so closed off and judgemental sometimes.

Although that is a broad brush to be painting them with. They are in so many ways wonderful people - I just get cranky listening to their politics.. :-) I would guess they feel the same way about me - I'm the token crazy liberal in the family.

It doesn't help either that as we were crossing the street to go to the garage to pick up the car, my foot got caught in a indentation in the pavement and I fell spectacularly in the middle of the street (thank god we still had a walk light!) I was flat on the ground before I even knew what happened. Thank god I landed mainly on my left leg below my knee - it's terribly sore and achy and deeply bruised (although not as badly as my pride - I felt like the whole neighborhood saw), and between that and my ear, that makes for one cranky Aimee.

And as I was hobbling for the sidewalk my dad snipes, "How'd you manage to do that?" instead of inquiring about my well-being (my mom did, at least - she was very concerned about me.) I was absolutely infuriated - Mom claims I shot him a look of death - but I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to get into it with him. I just pointed to the indentation and growled "that's why!" Reminds me of when I got pickpocketed in Chinatown and he said the same thing. I know my father loves me, but why does he have to see so damn insensitive sometimes?

Grrrr.

I do feel better for complaining about it, though. That should help make the evening go by more smoothly.

And I am psyched to play computer games! My dad's got both Law and Order and CSI computer games and I look forward to spending my later evening solving crime and analyzing evidence. What a happy nerd evening!

Last night I went to one of the BBW dances that they usually hold in Queens - it made a rare appearance in Manhattan - and it was the first time in almost a year that I did a singles thing, and I handled myself pretty well. You'd never know it from reading here, but I can be damned shy in new situations, and I got there too early (Keith and I went to see Camp that evening and I didn't have anything else to do before the dance started) and I was enjoying myself just sitting and people watching, although there wasn't really anyone there yet. This guy came over and started chatting with me and we talked for a while and wound up leaving together - we went to Washington Square Park to sit and talk some more. His name was Keith(!), and he was certainly nice enough. He lives in Queens and is starting an MBA program next week (he already has his law degree) and we like a lot of the same music, and so we had a lot to talk about, but there was no spark. It wasn't even a physical thing, really - he was cute enough - but there wasn't really an emotional connection. When he kissed me goodnight I didn't really feel anything (and you, dear readers, know how much I'd been wanting to kiss someone, but it barely made an impression on me.)

I am not complaining about this, mind you, just observing. I am glad that I didn't revert to my old, unhealthy patterns, where I might have fooled around with him just because the opportunity was there, and I was lonely or sad or empty or whatever. And that was a good feeling. And it's a good feeling to recognize that my standards are getting higher - I need to be engaged on many levels to really connect with someone. (And yes, I'm very aware that this was just a singles thing; I wasn't looking to make some kind of a genuine connection, but I used to build illusions of them out of thin air.) And more than anything, it was just good to get out and put myself out there and practice the dating stuff.

The only thing that makes me think I'm probably still not ready yet - although getting closer - is I haven't yet mastered the art of not mentioning the Louse and his hitting me when I first meet someone. I don't say things like "hi, I'm Aimee, and my ex-boyfriend used to beat me up!", but it always seems to come up when we talk about living situations, and how I came to live where I am and with whom. And I imagine it's a total downer and really offputting and I haven't yet gotten to a point where it's not so much a part of me anymore. When I'm alone with a man, it comes to me, this vulnerability - I don't put it out there; if anything, I more stress how much stronger I am now, and I am. But being with a man often makes aware of the deep sadness and pain I still have at having been violated; I am wary and hesitant and I hold myself in.

I don't doubt that I will be able to let someone in someday. It just won't be quick and easy.