Why I Love Abigail, or, Nothing is More Hilarious Than Mental Illness
My camera has been broken now for a couple of weeks. There is nothing I can do about it, the warranty is in a storage unit in Ohio. I can’t afford to replace the stupid thing for a few months at least. Meanwhile, the most luscious light I have seen in ages comes pouring through the leaves, setting all this green aglow. The trees take a deep breath and prepare to change into their formalwear. Back from window shopping with Abby, I fell into a deep funk, precipitated mostly by realizing the camera I want to buy doesn’t exist, but then my sadness bled into other ideas. If I can make a record of the beauty that has been, I can take it with me, I can get my bearing. When I can’t take pictures, everything good seems to be slipping through my fingers. The sun sets off the wood grain on that log just so for only a half an hour today, I watch it dance across and then slip off. Tomorrow the sun will have sunk a bit lower, everything will be different, it is gone. Explaining this to Abby, I began to cry.
“My god, honey, I never really noticed your bipolarity so much before. I would like to point out, for instance, that you are freaking out right now about The Idea Of Time.”
It’s all in the delivery, friends. I nearly wet myself laughing. My psyche is bizarre, it needs to be mocked.
“Fern, can I cook you something? Fajitas? Forbidden Chocolate Explosion topped with fennel seeds and Chocolate Lucky Charms without the marshmallows? Anything, seriously, I’m all yours.”
“No, I can’t eat, food is gross.” Wait wait wait, I’ve heard that before. Nice try. You haven't eaten all day, damnit, let her make you something. “Ah, some hot chocolate would be nice.”
“I’m on it.
“Oh, check this out, we even have cream. Oh, baby, get ready for some homemade whipped cream. It’s weird that you are so sad now, when you were so happy this morning, I mean, you skipped into the shoe store, remember?”
“Uh huh.”
“And you were, like, trying on all those silly shoes, dancing around in stripper boots, getting me to try those red things on, you were exuberant, you glowed, I mean, this happened so fast.”
“I know, I am who I want to be when I'm manic. It’s worth it, on balance, to cry about The Idea Of Time every now and again, if that's the cost of being on top of the world occasionally. I feel like I’ve made that choice, I’m okay with it. Frankly, I feel sorry for people who aren’t me.”
“Huh. I can see that. Although, I’ve got to say, I, for one, am grateful for the passage of time. Seriously, if the sun never moved, I would cry.”
“True.”
“And you know, you can think about it as an infinite stream of moments passing by, but it's also an infinite stream of moments coming towards you.”
“Yeah, I know, but look at what the light is doing right now. I should be taking pictures of that. Early fall is the best time of year for photography. The sun is so low, making wonderful contrasty shadows everywhere, but everything is still verdant and it all just shines, just screams out to be immortalized. By the time I have a camera again- Wow, this is so rich.”
“I whipped the hell out of the cream.”
You have to love a good blog! Just like being there, without the trouble of comforting the distressed.
No, seriously. What a wonderful insight into those moments of your day. Very nice.
Posted by: Keith | October 03, 2005 at 12:23 PM
Mmmmm. Hot chocolate with real whipped cream! What a special treat!
Posted by: InterstellarLass | October 03, 2005 at 02:07 PM
Well, dearest, of course you were crying! The Idea of Time is one of those things that *should* make us cry! Hell, I can drive myself to insanity and back, thinking of temps perdu. But it can make us laugh, too. They Might Be Giants have a very funny song about time. The first verse is "You're older than you've ever been and now you're even older/and now you're even older/and now you're even older/You're older than you've ever been and now you're even older/and now/you're older still!" Whenever I hear it, I don't know whether to laugh or to hop on the subway, ride out to Brooklyn and spank them.
A Food Nerd Moment: When Abby said "I whipped the hell out of the cream," my first thought was "oh, no! she turned it into butter!" But then I realized that this wouldn't be such a bad thing. If you added some flour and eggs, you'd have chocolate cake. Chocolate cake is good to have. :)
Posted by: Bakerina | October 03, 2005 at 04:32 PM
Mood swings are a b*tch eh? If only we could make ourselves feel what we want, when we want, organizing life into tidiness would be ever so convenient. Thank god for the highs and sense of humor tho.
Posted by: Pearl | October 03, 2005 at 04:44 PM
i have been so way down low... since a little after you left i guess.
i'm reading this post and i'm feeling like... well... down with you, sad and hopeless, but also jealous. i wish i could ever be manic. not that you have it better than me by any means, all life sucks. but, well, i just am depressed, so i'll dump some on you. miss you chick.
Posted by: SheSneezes | October 03, 2005 at 11:44 PM
i so get this. nodnodnodnodnod
oh yes i do
Posted by: mcbeth | October 06, 2005 at 03:15 AM