Saturday, July 16, 2005

My sister

My sister came by yesterday afternoon while I was packing a few of my things and cleaning out my closet.

It was so strange seeing her stepping over my piles of dirty clothing in her high heels and having her look around my apartment. This is the first time she has ever visited me and I had been living here for a year. I was embarrassed to have her see the empty vodka bottles next to the computer..the martini and shot glasses cluttered on the night table. The dishes that were piled up in the sink. I wish she had called ahead of time to warn me.

It was awkward for me, I offered her some coffee and she declined. She looked at my kitchen chairs..all different sizes and shapes. She didn't even sit down.

"I booked an apointment for you at the hair salon, I'm just coming to pick you up"

Okay..I'm sorry..WHAT?

Maybe It's just me..but isn't it customary to ask someone if they WANT to have their hair done before booking an apointment? At least tell them a few days in advance. This reminded me of our childhood together. She is 5 years older than me. When we were young, she would dress me up in stupid outfits like a doll, smear make-up on my face and put jewelry on my necks, fingers, wrists. I would protest and she would say:

"I'm making you pretty. Don't you want to be pretty?? Stay still"

Times haven't changed.

There I was in a fancy leather chair in an upscale salon watching some woman with perfect long red nails fill my hair with dye. I hated the feeling of her fingernails scraping against my scalp while she washed out the color and the sickly sweet smell of the shampoo.

Now my hair is a more "natural" reddish brown color and my hair has been cut just at shoulder-length. I can flip it over my shoulder like a pantene pro-V commercial..that's how soft it is. It's over-conditioned to the point where it looks like doll hair. She paid 120 dollars for this and left a 30 dollar tip. How nice to must be to be able to just throw money around like that.

I didn't even protest when my sister had said that my "manic panic red hair is so highschool and clown-looking", that I needed "a natural color to stop looking like such a freak". I've grown to only expect comments like that from her, I don't see the point of being hurt by them. I'm just going to play her stupid little game and let her dress me up like when we were children.

I'll re-dye my hair red next month. She can't tell me how to live my life. The kindest thing she said was when she dropped me off in the afternoon. "Mom and I were worried about you for a while, Iris..but I honestly think you finally are started to get your life on track. Congratulations. I'm happy for you"

and she hugged me.

But the sad thing is..this isn't due to any accomplishments on my part. It's only because I'm getting married to someone they approve of. Only because someone else is going to be taking care of me and they don't have to fake concern anymore.

I have to get dressed and start the day. I'll be working double shifts tonight at the bar.

I feel uneasy, but calmer than I did yesterday. I haven't had the need to drink. It's amazing how easily I can sink into denial and push away the negative aspects of reality. Everytime the thought of that night with Michael resurfaces, I just repress it and focus on other things. I would be lying if I said that I don't think about him and that kiss. But after a while..it should come up less and less in my thoughts. I'm not going to explore my feelings about it because It was a mistake,
posted by Iris at 10:34 AM