kith & kin
Don’t tell my mother, but I think the “special” birthday cake she made for me is making me ill…woke with a migraine today, and so am sipping chamomile tea and munching on dry toast. Had to cancel my appointment downtown at the movement disorder clinic; my mother has a large family, and nearly all of her eight siblings have varying levels of dystonia, which causes head tremor, diminished voice, and facial spasms. Diabetes is also rampant in that side of my family, and so I find that when I come “home,” I’m more conscious of my own health and the future slowly unfolding through my genes. I’m lucky I don’t get the severe migraines my aunt and cousin used to get—honestly, I could never plan a wedding b/c I’m sure I’d pass out from the stress. But my cousin is taking it all in stride, and I’ll see her tonight at the rehearsal dinner. I shopped for three hours yesterday and, of course, at the very last store found a suitable top to go with my skirt. No crushed velvet, unfortunately; holiday clothes aren’t out yet up here, and that’s what I get for not shopping in NYC. I think I’ll look like a cross between a witch and a flapper…long string of beads, black satin, Victorian-style skirt to the ankles, and Mary Jane heels. Nice. Forgot my camera, of course, so will have to rely on my mother’s disposable…at any rate, think I need another lie down and my mom’s out at the church coffee hour, so I’d better make the most of this rare moment alone. I’m such a spinster already! I swear I’m going to wind up like one of those crotchety old guys from the Muppet Show—who sat up in the balcony heckling everyone else…
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