Clans and Tans

After all these years I still feel slightly strange among R's clan: a little too quiet, a little too awkward, and lacking the right kind of small talking skills required not to ruffle any familial feathers. Gatherings like the one we went to yesterday have always felt a little off to me. You have a group of people who do various things with their lives, some of which are pretty interesting, yet there is this unspoken refusal to talk about anything that is actually interesting. Maybe that’s how most families are, or worse, maybe my family is like that too and I just can't see it.

It was a good evening though. I love R's parents, and I especially love his Dad's sneaky deadpan sense of humor. He's speaks very, very quietly and very seldom. Sometimes he looks at you and says something, and you have to think for a minute whether you really heard what he said, and after another few seconds you realize that he said something funny. Not gut wrenching funny, but deserving of a genuine chuckle.

R and I had some good little debates on the way up which was fun. Our row on libertarianism and Christianity and the 'Fourth Great Awakening' was good lubrication for class tonight. I still haven't read everything I should have by now, but from now on I am determined: no more fucking around.

Can't wait to see the undergrads, stomachs spilling out of their jeans, wearing their spring break tans. Every time I step on that campus I am grateful I was an art major at a (granted it was snobby too, but a different kind of snobby) Northeast school.