ACCOZZAGLIA

The weather is so gorgeous out there, but for some reason, I’m feeling really averse to being out in bright daylight. Perhaps it’s cos I don’t have sunglasses and I’ve been more accustomed to darker environments, staying up until nearly dawn and such for so long. Compared to my uncharacteristic tan this time last May, which I received from being outdoors in the gorgeous-in-May Bay Area for about a week non-stop, I’m probably going to end up paler this year than I have in many in recent memory. maybe since 1994, when I was coming to terms and resolution with the very end of self-concealment.

Bernadette just picked up a CD-R with materials that are going to the printer. And that’s when I walked out and was virtually blinded by the sunlight. Strange.

But it’s going to be an interesting summer, between having some folks visit in June and possibly later in summer, which may also include my dad and his girlfriend (who, incidentally, used to live in a wooded area of this state at one time before jetting down to the so-called “Friendly State” setting her roots there). He and I have literally not seen each other in over six years, and I imagine the experience would be moving for the both of us. His troubled, little kid of yore is now a far more peaceful big girl, and he hasn’t gotten to touch this fact. There’s only so much that regular phone conversations can convey, and since there are exceedingly few digitized images of me in circulation, his only impression is a shot from summer 2000, in which he noted my younger sister looks more like me than ever.

Of course, she’s married and is a mother now. I’m not, nor do I have any intent to change that, really. I mean, I can’t marry people under the guise of state marriage (don’t you just love America?), and after resolving that this is a dead-set fact that isn’t likely to be mutable anytime soon, I’ve moved past that concept of institution. And as far as being a mum? Probably not, but they didn’t exactly conceive adoption as a fun little exercise in the humanities.

TMI about me, I know, I know. And besides, the pesto focaccia in the oven is now ready.