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today the glitterbomber is... |
2003-06-24 the student loan people finally tracked me down at work yesterday morning. i can�t figure out how they got the number, unless they called a really old work number and traced me that way. i�m actually relieved they got to me that way. i�d been putting off calling them for months, and my account was delinquent. i don�t know why i had such a mental block about calling them and going into forbearance again or negotiating smaller payments. it�s embarrassingly irresponsible. i�d never let anything else go like that. the woman i talked to wasn�t especially nice. i told her that yeah, according to my income, it seems as if i can afford a certain payment, but i have a lot of other things that i am trying to pay off, and that doesn�t give me a lot of money to play around with every month. i tried to explain it to her several times, but she just wouldn�t listen. so i have to start making payments in august. and probably continue for the rest of my life. i have an email account that i only check a couple times a month because it�s turned into a spam magnet. i went into it today so i could clear it out, and lo and behold, there was an email message from my sister in there. it�s only from a week and a half ago, and it�s strange to be getting one from her. i guess wherever she is, she has internet access. it was very short�she just said she wanted to make sure it was me and to make sure i was all right. um, to make sure i�m all right? i�m not the one who had to be sent to (probably) drug rehab! i�m not the one who doesn�t call her family for months on end! i suppose it�s her way of reaching out to me. she must be afraid to call me. i don�t know why she didn�t use my regular email address; i thought she had it. i�m not sure what to do with the email. my first urge was to write back and tell her that i needed a break from her and that i don�t want to talk to her for a while. i�m still pretty angry at all the things that she�s done. she has to make a lot of changes before i will let her back into my life. even then, i may not fully trust her. actually, i also have an urge to write back, to establish a relationship with her again. as i was telling my therapist last week, i missed the chance to ever have an adult relationship with my mother because she died when i was eighteen; i missed the chance to have an adult relationship with my father because, basically, he�s a jerk who is making it clear he doesn�t want to have much to do with me. i hate missing out on another kind of relationship�the one i could be having with my sister. it hurts, but i have to remember that my sister is�to put it nicely�a unique case, and that makes our relationship different right there. i hope we can have a relationship in the future, but it�s really up to her right now. this afternoon, i was doing a home interview with a woman who had the cutest three-year-old daughter, emily. emily had sandals that looked like tulips. the flower was on the top of the foot, and the stem and leaves formed the straps. i wish they made them in big kid sizes (for me, of course). emily colored me a picture when i was there. i�m going to hang it up in my cube. almost one week until my boy and i leave for montreal. my plan to learn more french hasn�t done well, unless you count watching amelie, listening to stereolab, and kissing as practicing french. my boy says he�s going to make me do the talking while i�m there, since my french is better than his. i think it�s going to be quite comical. i think i mostly know useless phrases, such as �where is the cinnamon?� still, when i was in paris, pretty much the only french i used was asking where the bathroom was, and i read the language lots better than i speak it. i think we�ll do just fine, though i�m sure we will have a lot of laughs over it. and to a certain canadian boy who has a swelled head about his recent punchbuggy victory: don�t get overconfident, my dear. don�t forget who kicked your cute little butt at punchbuggy all the weeks before that. the challenge is on. *** np: ministry �stigmata� |
