When to start dating again after separation
Sometimes I answered the phone in the evenings, and there would be a nervous male voice on the line, pleading, “Can I talk to Claudia? She’d smack the back of my head before I could get any information. Now.” She was cruel and lovely and totally awesome.
I snuck into her room to riffle through her shoebox of tapes any chance I got. They talked about it as though it had capital letters, and they both seemed to want to make it as crazy as the parties they liked to throw.
* We were raised on lentils, brown rice, Neil Young, and solstice celebrations.
Our mother ran a local grocery co-op and wore skirts made of hemp before hemp was chic.
“You’re weird.” “We always tried to make sure you were happy.” Mom covered her face with her hands.It was one of the few times my sister let me hang out in her room, and sometimes I wonder if she was protecting me, if she knew there was a fight going on downstairs.The point is, I never the separation knew what caused The Separation because I was with Claudia, and Mickey De Sadist was singing us a lullaby.Then Claudia stomped into the room, with her purple hair and her boots that left marks on the lino. My homework still consisted of memorizing how to spell difficult words, like friend and people. In her twenties, she came to understand how to really get to our parents, and her techniques became much more sophisticated.She heaved the fridge door open then slammed it shut. But when I was eleven, I didn’t understand how young and stupid she was, so I copied everything she did. I coloured my hair with markers from school, so that my head looked and smelled like blueberries.