Straight No Chaser

Only On Breaks

college is the fastest-working enzyme in the body of the life cycle.

the couple in the house directly across the street moved in seven years ago when their oldest, a boy, was an infant. they had two girls, one at a time, while i was in high school. i can't remember exactly, but it seems like i babysat for them a few times, before the woman's mother moved in to help out. anyway. i remember the kids being babies, i remember the grandmother pacing slow circles around the cul-de-sac with the youngest one tied to her chest in a sling; i remember their toddlerhood and how the bigger kids in the neighborhood would always have to stop them from pulling this feisty golden retriever's tail; i remember when the boy started taking the bus to school but i think i was out of the house before the girls got old enough for that.

anyway, i'm home now, and looking out the window, and the same grandmother is out there following the boy and one of the girls around on their bikes, tightly clutching the banana seats so they don't fall. very cute little kids, half-burmese with giant grins and loud voices. but, being still several years from puberty, they are only slightly, if at all, bigger than the last time i saw them, six months ago.

and it amazes me. because they're sort of at this impass--in elementary school, nothing changes much, on a day-to-day basis, because it can't, because little kids thrive on stability--while i, over the same period, have developed in ways i completely never expected to, pre-college. i mean, part of it was my being a late bloomer. there had been boys, i had had drinks, spotty litte rebellious periods, et cetera, but i don't remember having any very crystallized opinions on sex or lifestyle habits or anything like that, and academics were just a tide that swept us all up every so often, and i had never had the desire to kiss a boy, not even marcus, until we were already kissing for the first time, and i was realizing that it was nice. in two and a half years i've lived with three roommates, all of whom became close friends, two of whom taught me important lessons about life and personality and the tenuous sharing of personal space. i've learned how to dress myself for maximum (and minimum) cuteness. i am not afraid of authority figures anymore, because i know myself, i know i'm an impressive young woman, and i've seen, reflected in countless interviews and mentor-protege interactions, what they see in me. i've decided more or less what i want to do and be (even if i'm not one hundred percent clear on how to get there), and i've proven capable of forging lasting relationships with all types of people.

joe and jamie, meanwhile, are still wobbling around on training wheels.

none of which is meant to sound anything but purely observative, of course. it's the same thing theo said last night after chad's game, in so many words. he graduated from chad's school last year, goes to morehouse now. so this is his first christmas break home, his first extended stint as a subordinate to his parents and ex-coach after an entire semester of sort-of independence, and it is, in his words, "weird." to come back home and sit in the tiny high school gyms (where he can't use his college id for free entrance), see all the parents who used to give him rides to and from school, see how they haven't changed at all--same sort of buppie chic, leather and bobbi brown look--and just, fail miserably, trying to assimilate his own shifting self. because even though he's more or less the same person, he is also entirely different.

i mean, it's exciting. it also sucks, sort of. but that's everything.

on a brighter and less egocentric note, relatives are starting to arrive, today, for christmas. also a tiny bit of a bad thing, because according to my mom, we are actually not gift shopping, and there are still a hundred scattered items needing to be wrapped. but. aunt susan's here, so everyting irie.