And then a vision came unto me from the Lord and I ascended on high, past the clouds and betwixt air itself and higher still, verily unto the firmanent of Heaven. And a thousand voices rose from a thousand la-z-boy recliners tilted back from a thousand footrest handles, and the manifold manifest host spake unto me, "Brother, go you now unto the land of Staples, whereto thou shalt sit among the office chairs, and manifest lumbar supports, and lint balls that slumber."

And as I arose from my caffeine high I was drenched with the sweat of a thousand frightened shepherds, and spake unto my grandmother, "We must go now unto the land of Staples, whereto we shall sit among the office chairs, and manifest lumber supports, and lint balls that slumber." And lo, we went and bought a new office chair and it was good. Amen.

---

Yesterday wasn't so spiritual an experience, but I learned alot. I didn't win at poker last night, but I was already pretty sure it wouldn't happen. The winner at our table had to be nailing Fortuna on the side. The man never bluffed once. He swept us away like an Act of Congress, then got dusted in the first 5 minutes of the final round by being stupid. At least the infernal mistress is a fickle witch. But then there were only two players left. Those final two people were a sight: a perfect stalemate for hours, tragically ending with sudden-death betting and losing it all on a hair-thin difference of hands. Gorgeous.

I spent the night huddled against a wall with my pillow, wearing Adi's robe inside out for heat. The morning was a sun-dapled oktoberfest of streaming sunbeams and effervescent glows. I smiled and read 'The Two Towers' on the balcony outside while the guys inside complained about women. I was mildly pissed off for some reason; couldn't put my finger on why. One of his roommates was a pompous smiling ass, the poster child for therapy and juvenile infanticide.

So I called Gran for a pick-up. She told me that great-uncle Jack called, wondering where in the hell we were. Yeah, Gran had forgotten something: we were expected at my great-grandmother's post-birthday gathering. I was less than thrilled. She was equally less than thrilled but we had to go, moving through the motions and buying cards, flowers, etc. Two hours of driving later, we shuffled into the living room, greeted by a throng of old women and orphaned punch glasses. I haven't felt so out of place since the frat parties I went to Freshman year. One lady introduced herself and asked me the usual young person questions: what I was doing, what I hoped to do. At the end she smiled and said, "well I'll stop talking at you now." Yup, sometimes it's obvious I just want to read.

Eventually I went in to see great-grandma on her bed. She was 97 now and selectively deaf. I sat by her and held her hand, talking to her loudly. I looked down and saw how vibrant and smooth my hand seemed against her blotched and gnarled parchment-worn skin, how poignant a picture of those hands would be. I looked into her eyes and thought how nice it was that eyes never age. Her body was just like a shell and I was actually touching the essence of her, speaking to her, like her skin and face were accessories. She's always happy to see me, so proud that I'm writing and trying to get published, proud that I'm doing the things she never could because of family. I think it takes courage and humility to give up your dreams for loved ones. I don't think I could do that. I admire her for that commitment.

Billy and Vic, my great aunt and a great uncle (by marriage) were there too. They're more of a traditional heterosexual couple in their 70's: reserved, sometimes insensitive with alot of stories that they mill back and forth together with insults and eye rolls. I was afraid to go partly because they can be rude and brusque...but then as I sat listening to Billy recount some trip or bit of financial news, I smiled more. She did too. They seemed nicer and more gracious to me now that I'd graduated college. In a way, my entire family on my mother's side observes me closely. I'm the last heir of the entire line, the final descendent, all of their hopes and wealth falling onto me.

We eventually left and went home. Jen and I got into an argument that I wish I hadn't started. I'd come to the conclusion she was being distant or something was different. Even though she'd told me before that nothing had changed, I had this odd feeling I should ask again. It was the wrong odd feeling to listen to. I ended up pushing too much and being too selfish about her space and circumstances. If anyone had been hurt that I hadn't been as affectionate or close to them while I was at college, I would have been confused and said the same things she did. It just hurt and impulse made it seem ok to speak out again. I hate getting clingy or needing someone to edify their bond to me: it's a sign of weakness that's never done me any good.

So we pissed each other off and that's been bothering me all day long. Pathetic as it sounds, I just wanted her to say something affectionate and when it hadn't come, I probed and dug until it came. I guess I haven't taught myself how to fish for faith yet (feeding for a lifetime and all that).

It's strange how for all your experiences, you still react the wrong way to something, like it's ingrained in your brain. But then there's always hope we can learn, right?

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