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17 March 2008 @ 09:28 am
discussion of an exhausting weekend that turns heavy and confessional at the end  
Saturday, I saw Chicago 10, which is part documentary, part animated re-enactment of the conflict between anti-war protestors and police at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago in 1968 and the resulting trial of the so-called leaders of the riot. Prior to this, most of my knowledge about the event came from The Illuminatus! Trilogy and the MC5 portions of the book "Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk," so it was really interesting to fill in some of the missing details, including the horrendous treatment of Bobby Seale in the courtroom. Hank Azaria did an awesome job providing the voices of Abbie Hoffman and Allen Ginsberg.

Then K. and I went to a great birthday party where I got surprisingly drunk. It would perhaps not be out of line to describe my state as "passing out drunk." No more chasing tequilla shots with rum drinks for me. Hopefully, I was well behaved.

Sunday morning, we had brunch with some friends where we got to meet one couple's super cute new baby. Unfortunately, I was too hungover to fully enjoy myself.

Then it was off to an early Easter dinner with my family, which was mostly nice, but wherein we finally had some confirmation that my brother's wife has moved out. The news leaked out earlier in the week through one of my nieces' comments. Their marriage has been on pretty shaky ground for at least ten years, so it shouldn't have been shocking, but it still managed to keep me up all night thinking about it.

My parents lamented to us later how it was sad that my brother couldn't come out and admit what was going on in his life, which I found funny and tragic, because they're the reason he can't. In our family, any confession of human failure is virtually impossible. We're all too emotionally stunted to express those feelings, so we're forced to repress and lie, pretending our lives are perfect and that the only things we need to fear are cancer and heart disease. I blame the fact that my parents never fought in front of us, so we never learned how to express and resolve conflicts. For more than a decade, I would let relationships with girls end the very first time we had an argument, because I genuinely didn't understand that people can stay together after they have a fight. K. was really the first one who said "Fuck that. I'm not letting you break up with me. We're going to talk this out instead."

Of course, my parents are the way they are because they both had to watch their own parents tear their marriages (and each other) apart right in front of their children, which made my parents overcompensate by sparing us any sign of conflict. Who knows what my great-grandparents did to make my grandparents that way and what affect will this all have on my nieces and nephew?

So a night of restless insomnia after a night of drunk sleep equals me not being terribly rested.

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Listening to: Mirah - "Advisory Committee"
 
 
 
ghibli_geek on March 17th, 2008 02:53 pm (UTC)
What little I know of that Chicago incident comes from finding Abbie Hoffman books at the Salvation Army during high school ... and I've had that sort of conversation with men before, you know, "Just because we're fighting doesn't mean we're breaking up!", so you're not alone in your emotional stuntedness, though I think that's hardly consolation. Two disconnected, disjointed sentences in one post! Wheee!
zantimisfit on March 17th, 2008 03:24 pm (UTC)
My family is sort of the opposite of your family. We give each other an earful regularly but we don't let it interfere with our relationships. However, my husband’s family is more like your family. They can’t say anything to each other. It’s more like they are a bunch of acquaintances and not brothers. And not to get into gender stereotypes too much but could this be characteristic of males - the avoidance of conflict? And less a result of observing your parents’ relationship? I have 2 sisters and one brother but he gives as good as he gets from his sisters...
Diary of an Ass Monkey: comics: albion hidingassmonkeydiary on March 17th, 2008 03:30 pm (UTC)
Yeah, I reckon there is a fair chunk of "a man must bear his pain in silence" going on in our family. Maybe my mom (as the only woman) just got sucked into it.

But I still like (rightly or wrongly) blaming my parents (without ever telling them, of course).
everybody hates a tourist.dynamine on March 17th, 2008 04:13 pm (UTC)
free bobby! free huey!
growing up in a highly politically interested family, there was no way i could have even hit puberty without knowing what transpired re:chicago '68. my mom was weird that way....she had me read histories of the panthers, some halberstam, james baldwin and the michener account of kent state.

makes for an interesting, if not biased, view of the world.

Edited at 2008-03-17 04:13 pm (UTC)
a foxy vixen, so illustriousgloriamunty on March 17th, 2008 08:54 pm (UTC)
You're quite open on your journal, though. Perhaps it would help in conversation if you combined talking about your feelings with pictures of ass like you do here. Like you could carry around picture cards!
Diary of an Ass Monkeyassmonkeydiary on March 17th, 2008 09:00 pm (UTC)
Hehe... yeah, I was lucky enough to have some big events in my life that kind of forced me to open up. I'd say I'm pretty open and unrepressed now, except where my family's concerned. As soon as I get into their presence, I go right back to the old ways and I hate it.
orcaarroworcaarrow on March 18th, 2008 01:34 am (UTC)
I totally sympathize. I wish I had some wisdom to share. Keeping them in the dark is the best strategy that I've come up with.

Good luck!