6:52 p.m. - November 17, 2005
I know nothing about vehicles, but a 1991 Volvo with a broken rear window, smushed trunk, and paint damage cannot warrant $9,000 in repairs. Good thing I took photos - as soon as I got home, they moved the car somewhere.
Apparently a good third of the tree landed on the vehicle, another third fell over my lawn, and the remaining third stood upright; the homeowner's association called the city who determined the tree could not be saved and proceeded to remove it, leaving the stump and zero notification to me. I wonder if I'm going to be billed for the removal and clean up. City workers + union wages = potential bill for oh, say $5,000? I'm disappointed by the loss - my house looks naked now. It was truly a magnificent tree with a huge crown, completely symmetrical, evenly dispersed boughs, and beautiful leaves. The worst feeling: I am that much more visible, that much closer, to the neighbors. I value distance.
Just off the videophone with my mother: She is upset I'm not coming for Thanksgiving. Sister, already there, called immediately: Can we say incensed? She accused me of dropping the family in order to spend time prancing with that guy. Yeah, gotta love those open-minded liberals when they're angry because the polished veneer comes down. The comments - there were many of them - ticked me off because that pigeon-holing, that assumption that I'm just like them, that expectation of sorts that I engage in the filth for which SF is known - is everything I ardently reject, is everything I worried about, and whether or not I participate or reject that lifestyle, I am associated with it by default. I'm still smarting over one in particular - in this nasty, accusatory tone, she said I've been going to SF much more often lately and I know what for. Yeah, to work. Perhaps I'm irritated more because A3 and I aren't seeing each other now (You're a great guy, Jason, but I'm looking for someone who has more time to commit to a relationship) and I'm hanging out in the wind, exposed. And like I said earlier, I don't like being open to people.
I'm a control freak dealing with a disappeared tree (can't control nature or city tree removal crews) and unflattering stereotypes. Sigh. Somewhere there is the notion that I buy into the same stereotypes that are thown at me. Horrid thought: What if I do prance but don't know it? I'm in a bad mood.