metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dramatic Exits �I�m leaving! I�m running away from you guys!� my son said as he started toward the door. It was around midnight in Los Angeles, cold and quiet in the beach area where we lived. We had been playing monopoly and he was winning. He had Park Place and Boardwalk and all the yellow ones � Marvin Gardens and all those and the light blue ones that I can�t remember, but suffice it to say he was kicking our butts pretty good. He was about 8 years old and it was one of the first times he played. He loved amassing all that property and then sticking it to us when we rounded each corner. He was living the capitalist dream and we were his bitches. But we were tired and we conceded the game and said he won and we gave up and it was time to go to bed. Noooooooo! He wanted to keep on playing until all the money was his and all the houses and all the hotels and all the everything. Which would have been fine if I hadn�t been so dead dog tired. So, he had it with us and was running away! I went to stop him, but K said, �Let him go. He�ll be back in a minute.� So he got up from the game, stomped his feet a few times, flung a glare our way just to make the point, and then walked out the door, slamming it as he went - A very dramatic exit. He was gone about 5 minutes. They were the longest 5 minutes I ever lived. I wanted to go get him, but K said he needed to just blow off some steam. He was right. About 5 minutes later, the door know slowly turned and he walked in. He did not make eye contact, but walked calmly to his room and closed the door. ~ ~ ~ My first husband, Frank, and I were visiting my mother. She lived about 20 minutes away, so no big deal. We were having dinner when she started talking about my father. I had had so much of this trash talk when I was a child and I told her I was through listening to it and if she was so miserable, why didn�t she just leave, along with a lot of other crap. She proceeded to tell me that I was the root of all her problems, because she was planning to leave my father when she got pregnant with me. She and I got into a screaming match, so I said I never wanted to see or speak to her again and I told Frank, �Come on, we�re leaving!!� I stormed out of the house with Frank in tow and we got in the car a drove away � verrrrry dramatic exit. We drove about 2 blocks. Then the car stopped. It. Just. Stopped. What to do, what to do? No AAA, no cell phones back then, no nothing. We had to walk back to my mothers house. We walked the two blocks and then I had to knock and ask to use the phone to call a tow truck. Gah. ~ ~ ~ �You will be sorry when I�m gone. I�m never coming back. You will really miss me. You don�t realize just how much you�ll miss me. I�m LEAVING!� We had had an enormous argument, mostly about money, but also about flirting and false accusations of �cheating� and all that bother that is so important in a young relationship. I grabbed some clothes and put them in my bag and walked out of the house to the car. I threw all my stuff in the back seat and proceeded to look for the car keys, which were in my purse. My purse that was sitting on the kitchen table. My purse I had to go back in the house that I just said I would never return to and walk by the person I said I would never see again and go to the kitchen and pick up my purse and mumble as I passed to go out the door, ��(mumble mumble) purse �. (mumble)�. K was smiling because it was so bad that I had to come back in after my � dramatic exit � to get my stupid purse. It made me even more angry at him for smiling when I had to be so humiliated. The bastard. So. Dramatic Exits. They are so difficult to execute to perfection. 4:41 p.m. - 2003-12-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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