- 2 dark chocolate mini wafers
- medium chai latte (hot). 2 pieces of white bread, 4 slices of honey smoked turkey breast, salad dressing. yesterday G called and told me she had got drunk and slept with a boy three years her senior from her school. she was still drunk when she called me. she sounded so much like her father, the way she would drag the first syllable of the first word of every sentence and make like she was stuttering. i can’t handle drunk people, worst when it’s someone i know. i’ll be so terrified and stiffened it feels like part of me has gone hollow. but i talked with G, laughed even, while she was telling me the boy had bought her plan b one-step and she was hesitant to take it because, although they’d ended up without a condom, she knew for sure there had been one at the beginning and the only thing she didn’t knew was when it had fallen off and her father had tempted to sleep with a female colleague and failed and she had so much homework could i proofread this paper of hers and correct all the grammatical errors. yes, i said. the paper was six-page and had to do with a Vietnamese girl running naked after bombing. i started proofreading it and C called me. then she got angry and cried because i was saying uh and oh to everything she said and told me she didn’t love me anymore and we should break up. and i believed her as i would every time. i cried so much more it was embarrassing. i have the habit of circling out and talking about our relationship in general whenever she gets irritated by a specific way i behave.
last summer i told G i’d been with C for some time. the first thing she wanted to know was if we had had sex. did you? really? but how? is there pleasure also? yes, yes, tongues and fingers, and yes. i’m not questioning you, but… so it had occurred to me, right there at the dinner table, that she had never been exposed to any other forms of love-making except a man inserting his erect penis into a woman’s vagina, nor had she faced the situation where she had no choice but to do it by herself, in the dark, quietly. tongues and fingers were just as unimaginable as silence. she was almost twenty. to be fair, it was also the first question that sprang into my mother’s mind when i told her C had been my girlfriend. how do you have sex? really? you did that and you are no longer a virgin? i’m a gemini born fifteen days too early because my mother didn’t feel like waiting anymore. she’s thirty years older than me. her mother is thirty years older than her. before i turned seven i’d always thought women could only bear children after they were thirty. G will be twenty in twenty days and she’s just taken her second plan b one-step in three months.
- 1 slice of veggie pizza. medium lemonade. now G doesn’t remember calling me yesterday and tells me everything one more time. but she remembers having me proofread her paper. she calls me again and tells me she’s never had an orgasm and yesterday was the closest she’s ever got. then she recites all the drunk talk she remembers and says it is definitely not something she should be doing very often.
- 1 bottle of pear cider. 1 bite of cheese bread. first time ever: score 1 in a pool game. i can’t get darts onto the board. I’m a dart killer. call C in the bar and she says good night and i say love you and she chuckles and says love you too. lately i’ve felt that she enjoys waiting for me to say it first. it is so much more difficult to say i love you instead of omitting the i and say love you, and i’ve developed a regular omission of my. when it comes up in our dialogue, instead of my mother, i say mother; my cousin becomes cousin, and my home, home.