Masquerade at Home

(Home for a few days.)

Up for air. Oxford was a whirlwind. I worked for two days straight, then Chris arrived, calming me. We stayed at my friend's place in the county, a B&B in the former location of a hunting lodge. I always feel comfortable in that place. My earliest memories of a meal there was at dusk. The walls, a creamy white wood tongue and groove, combined with the airy overhead mast created a dreamy place where I could dine and converse quietly with my companions.

I don't know how C.B. and I became friends, but it happened the same way you fall in love. Isn't that how good friendships begin after all. She was overseeing a rehearsal dinner for a wedding I was playing the part of bridesmaid. From the outside, she saw my dedication to this affair while the bride-to-be seemed to overlook it. I couldn't live up to the bride's expectations no matter how hard I tried, and by the end of the wedding weekend, we quit talking to each other. It's remained that way, more or less, ever since. As misunderstandings go, the bride and I were never able to make amends. I felt slighted, she didn't feel waited enough upon, and I let go. She did too in her own way. Yet out of this tragedy (because it is tragic to lose a friend) I discovered a new friendship.

C.B. lives in the restaurant she and her husband own. Well, they live above it anyway. Only this last visit did I realize how difficult this must be. People in your home most every day and at every hour. I think of myself cringing at times when I come home and there is a foreign car parked our driveway. I put my happy face on, and for a moment, entertain the guest, whoever they might be. I feign happiness despite getting in an accident or getting laid off when all I want to do is cry.

I wonder how we can live in places where masks are worn as often as the clothes on our backs. I think of my friend and what I can offer her. Recognition maybe or perhaps I can just tell her, "Yes, I know you. I"m glad you get me."

Short Sheeted

(Under the sheets. That's where I like to be.)

Another week gone and here I am packed and ready to leave for Mississippi once more. How many people can say they look forward to visiting Mississippi? Only people who've been there. It will always be a special place for me. In fact, during an interview today with Lucy Schultz of the Oxford Eagle, I was asked where I grew up. I was born in Tampa, I said, but I grew up in Oxford.

I'm departing solo in the morning. Chris will join me Friday afternoon but until then I'll be tying up loose ends with the film, visiting with friends, and relaxing. It's been a rough beginning to my week. I spent the good part of the morning in an Atlanta courtroom waiting for a parking violation case to be dismissed, the afternoon at the drs, and the evening paying bills. Needless to say work is in a slump and I find myself anxious once again.

Then I spoke with A. who has been off for the last two weeks studying for an exam. We haven't spoken in months due to both of our busy schedules, but we were able to update each other with the most pertinent of news, including our grievances and were able to encourage each other. That said, A. sounded good and seemed settled well into her new home in the Crescent City. I'm just wondering when my uneasiness with Atlanta will be a distant and laughable memory.