Friday, July 15, 2011

The moon is full, shining over the Chesapeake Bay, and I am hiding from it. My mom had two martinis with dinner--and that's one too many. We've left my brother's house for the weekend and come back to the place where she used to live with my aunt. I'm staying with her in her old apartment, and if I were to go walking in the moonlight, I might return to find her sprawled on the floor.
I have no sense of humor about drinking or smoking anymore. Two seconds after my family got together this afternoon, I announced that I would walk away whenever anyone lit up. I've been smoking since the day I was conceived. I'm sick of it. At this rate, I may stop drinking, too. The sight of anyone who's walking off kilter, talking too loud, or forgetting what they were talking about makes me want to have a cup of tea. A bucket of tea. An ocean of tea. Strong and black and bitter.


Elizabeth said...

Yikes! Who is this person you speak of? You smoke? I did not know that.

Come home to Los Angeles.

Denise Emanuel Clemen said...

Smoking other people 's smoke, I should have said.

Jules said...

Sipping a glass of iced tea in the humid heat of Minnesota July, I feel your pain. The very suggestion of second-hand smoke triggers a pre-migraine achey-ness.