Illustration by Eveline TarunadjajaBeing home, I have a mound of mail and paperwork that has been piling up for 6 months in my bedroom, to go through. Credit card bills, bank statements, Alumni letters, wedding invitations from my little cousins, yes little cousins and a 'Just Born' announcement from my L.A ex-boyfriend and his wife. Exhale. I was ridiculously feeling out of sorts. It's too much all at once. What's my problem? I made it home. I'm with my family. And en route to The Bahamas. Maybe its jetlag, feeling some reverse culture shock and PMS. Oh là!
On top of everything else, everything seems so loud here, specifically t.v. Is it because I understand English completely whereas in French, my brain skims over details? Or is American television really loud? My Mother threw me into the deep end this morning with 'The View'. I'd sooner listen to a pack of raccoons fighting in over leftover food in a bush. C'est la même chose, n'est-ce pas?
I spent the afternoon in a haze, going through letters and making piles of the paperwork that I will need to tend to when I get back next week. After a hot bath, my brother made me a Betheny Frankel 'Skinny Girl' Margarita (I think the skinny is negated if you finish the bottle) and put on Jeopardy. The combination of booze, trivia and my brother's side comments did the trick. I have been allocated one day to feel to succumb to feeling like crap because my hardcore Italian family won't put up with it any longer than 24 hours before hearing "Get ova it!". So I have to take advantage of these 24 hours to be coddled by my family. My cat Charlotte who was a kitten when I left for Paris two years ago is reminding me of Monsieur Flâneur, all cute and nice in the beginning but now that she is comfortable is nasty and rude.
And by the way, its fucking raining in New York. I feel better now. Tomorrow's another day and hopefully I will be less of a brat. Self awareness is the first step in recovery.
