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Mar. 22nd, 2007 01:08 amI have not smoked a cigarette since Tuesday, March 13.
Where I am right now is the Hampton Inn in Rochester, MN. Why I am here is a terribly embarrassing story and has been a major inconvenience for all parties involved. I'll share it with you, but let me preface by saying I'm glad everything is all right, still I wish none of this had ever happened.
On Sunday when I worked at Haagen Dazs, I got a call from a girl named Meghan, a friend of my sister's who lives in Rhode Island, whom I met over the summer at my sister's wedding. I was caught off guard by the call itself, but more so by the information she gave me: that my sister Prithvi, or Priv, may not be doing so well, that she was upset over my not visiting her when I went to Chicago two weekends ago for my interview with Columbia College, and that she was having certain marital problems with Jason. The details were vague, and being at work, I could not talk uninterrupted for more than 2 minutes at a time. So that day, which until the phone call was quite enjoyable, became comparatively worse. Much, much worse because I could not help but feel guilty that maybe I was responsible for whatever problems Priv was having because I have not been a good brother. I hadn't spoken with her in weeks and I guess I told her I'd go to Rochester during my trip to Chicago, which I don't remember doing.
I called my sister that night and we spoke for about 2 hours. I didn't tell her what Meghan told me or even that she called. But I asked how she was and how my baby niece Maia was and how she and Jason were. All answers were positive of nature, barring the news that Jason's grandmother passed away earlier that day. I was somewhat relieved, but still concerned. My sister sounded happy, but also drunk. So I didn't buy it.
I called Meghan the next day and she told me that she had "more information" that she couldn't share until later that night. My 3-12am shift at Best Buy was spent dreading what "more information" there was to all this. After work, Meghan revealed that she was told by her mother, who works with my sister, that it was suspected that Jason is physically abusing my sister, enabling her alcoholism (which I don't believe to be a concernable issue any more), and creating a general sense of danger for Priv and my baby niece Maia.
Now. The first time I ever talked to Jason was on the phone after he and my sister had been dating for two months. She told me that he pushed her to the ground. He made it clear to me that it was in self defense, which I believed and still do. I'm embarrassed to share this with anyone who's reading, but this is important because I told Jason then, in our first conversation mind you, that if he ever laid a violent finger on Priv again, in defense or not, I'd have to take personal action. I've never been in a fight in my entire life and I avoid physical harm intuitively, so I didn't specify what action that would be, but that it would be there in some form.
So the news, or I should say speculation, that Meghan delivered, along with the urgency and concern with which it was delivered, allowed emotion to almost entirely replace logic and reason. Meghan said that my sister told her, in sobriety, that Jason hit her. Meghan, a stranger, said that my sister, a dearly loved one, told her that Jason, whom I believe to be a flawed but decent person, hit her. Meghan, a stranger. Meghan said that her mom said that Priv had a black eye at work. Meghan said that Priv had bruised ribs. Meghan lives in fucking Rhode Island, the smallest of the 50 States. And I bought a ticket to Rochester right after we spoke.
And I asked my dad for a ride to the airport and in doing so started sobbing about how something might be wrong with Priv, which caused an impromptu family meeting that resulted in my mother fainting on the floor. Honest to goodness, fainting. A fucking fiasco. After years and years of calm water, supposition and hearsay, vague information blew everything to bits within 45 minutes. Everything that we thought could go wrong was SUPPOSEDLY going wrong.
The next day was spent waiting to get to the airport, waiting for the first plane to get to St. Paul, waiting for the second plane to get to Rochester, and waiting in the hotel for my sister to get home from her grandmother-in-law's funeral. And all this waiting was spent stupid thinking about what the fuck might actually be going on and what the fuck I would/could do about it. My sister didn't even know I was coming. I passed out watching CSI, but was woken up to a call from a hysterical Meghan who told me I needed to save my sister and save the baby and get Jason locked up and for fuck's sake it was enough. She called me a hero and told me she loved me and I don't even goddamned know this person. This whole situation was ugly. Nothing that was happening was making any sense, none of my actions were reasonable, but there was nothing I could do but do what I was doing. Just all so stupid.
My baby niece Maia is so precious. She turned 1 and 5/6 years old on Saturday. When she visited in December she was kind of cold, I guess out of her element, and didn't really warm up to me at all. But today, gosh. She laughed at all of my jokes, hugged me, put her hand in my mouth, ran in circles around me, and threw the stuffed Tarantula I got from the aquarium in Chicago all over the room. She smelled like urine, but I couldn't stay away from her. And at the end of the night she was covered in yogurt and it was the cutest. She's a strong baby and fiercely stubborn. She broke my sister's nose with a head butt a few months ago, which is another reason to believe Jason was hurting her.
My sister and I talked. We spoke earnestly about how she was doing: there were problems, but no more than anyone else has, arguments, but none resulting in violence, but things are as good for her as they ever were. She's happy, healthy, safe, loved, and loving. At first I kept up the appearance that my spontaneous visit was due to intuitive concern. But I knew she didn't believe it and didn't want her to have any concerns herself, I told her what Meghan had told me. I told her about telling mom and dad and that mom fainted. My sister went nuts. It was all false, all of the information I got. Meghan was relaying to me rumors, dangerously incorrect rumors. And immediately I felt like a fool. Everything is fine and I'm a fucking idiot.
This is all Meghan's fault. All of it. I wouldn't have been content with my sister's testimony over the phone, I needed to come and see how she was doing. If what Meghan was speculating turned out to be true, I'd carry an indestructible guilt with me for the rest of my life, having promised to stop Jason from hurting Priv years ago if it were to ever happen.
BUT, what Meghan supposed is completely false and unfortunately, I've wasted time and money because I needed to prove that it was false.
My mom and dad think I'm brave, they sent me off like I was a soldier. My sister was understandably disturbed, but grateful that I came. And in such situations, I reserve at least a little sympathy for myself. But not now. I'm awfully embarrassed and I feel like I've caused most of the harm in this instance. My mom fainted, my parents spent a considerable sum getting me here, I disrupted Priv and Jason's lives at a time when they needed peace. Jason was a pallbearer the day before I got here. I feel like because they were so rash, I have no excuse for my actions. I fucked everything up. I want all of this to be stricken from the record.
I want to go home, right now.
Where I am right now is the Hampton Inn in Rochester, MN. Why I am here is a terribly embarrassing story and has been a major inconvenience for all parties involved. I'll share it with you, but let me preface by saying I'm glad everything is all right, still I wish none of this had ever happened.
On Sunday when I worked at Haagen Dazs, I got a call from a girl named Meghan, a friend of my sister's who lives in Rhode Island, whom I met over the summer at my sister's wedding. I was caught off guard by the call itself, but more so by the information she gave me: that my sister Prithvi, or Priv, may not be doing so well, that she was upset over my not visiting her when I went to Chicago two weekends ago for my interview with Columbia College, and that she was having certain marital problems with Jason. The details were vague, and being at work, I could not talk uninterrupted for more than 2 minutes at a time. So that day, which until the phone call was quite enjoyable, became comparatively worse. Much, much worse because I could not help but feel guilty that maybe I was responsible for whatever problems Priv was having because I have not been a good brother. I hadn't spoken with her in weeks and I guess I told her I'd go to Rochester during my trip to Chicago, which I don't remember doing.
I called my sister that night and we spoke for about 2 hours. I didn't tell her what Meghan told me or even that she called. But I asked how she was and how my baby niece Maia was and how she and Jason were. All answers were positive of nature, barring the news that Jason's grandmother passed away earlier that day. I was somewhat relieved, but still concerned. My sister sounded happy, but also drunk. So I didn't buy it.
I called Meghan the next day and she told me that she had "more information" that she couldn't share until later that night. My 3-12am shift at Best Buy was spent dreading what "more information" there was to all this. After work, Meghan revealed that she was told by her mother, who works with my sister, that it was suspected that Jason is physically abusing my sister, enabling her alcoholism (which I don't believe to be a concernable issue any more), and creating a general sense of danger for Priv and my baby niece Maia.
Now. The first time I ever talked to Jason was on the phone after he and my sister had been dating for two months. She told me that he pushed her to the ground. He made it clear to me that it was in self defense, which I believed and still do. I'm embarrassed to share this with anyone who's reading, but this is important because I told Jason then, in our first conversation mind you, that if he ever laid a violent finger on Priv again, in defense or not, I'd have to take personal action. I've never been in a fight in my entire life and I avoid physical harm intuitively, so I didn't specify what action that would be, but that it would be there in some form.
So the news, or I should say speculation, that Meghan delivered, along with the urgency and concern with which it was delivered, allowed emotion to almost entirely replace logic and reason. Meghan said that my sister told her, in sobriety, that Jason hit her. Meghan, a stranger, said that my sister, a dearly loved one, told her that Jason, whom I believe to be a flawed but decent person, hit her. Meghan, a stranger. Meghan said that her mom said that Priv had a black eye at work. Meghan said that Priv had bruised ribs. Meghan lives in fucking Rhode Island, the smallest of the 50 States. And I bought a ticket to Rochester right after we spoke.
And I asked my dad for a ride to the airport and in doing so started sobbing about how something might be wrong with Priv, which caused an impromptu family meeting that resulted in my mother fainting on the floor. Honest to goodness, fainting. A fucking fiasco. After years and years of calm water, supposition and hearsay, vague information blew everything to bits within 45 minutes. Everything that we thought could go wrong was SUPPOSEDLY going wrong.
The next day was spent waiting to get to the airport, waiting for the first plane to get to St. Paul, waiting for the second plane to get to Rochester, and waiting in the hotel for my sister to get home from her grandmother-in-law's funeral. And all this waiting was spent stupid thinking about what the fuck might actually be going on and what the fuck I would/could do about it. My sister didn't even know I was coming. I passed out watching CSI, but was woken up to a call from a hysterical Meghan who told me I needed to save my sister and save the baby and get Jason locked up and for fuck's sake it was enough. She called me a hero and told me she loved me and I don't even goddamned know this person. This whole situation was ugly. Nothing that was happening was making any sense, none of my actions were reasonable, but there was nothing I could do but do what I was doing. Just all so stupid.
My baby niece Maia is so precious. She turned 1 and 5/6 years old on Saturday. When she visited in December she was kind of cold, I guess out of her element, and didn't really warm up to me at all. But today, gosh. She laughed at all of my jokes, hugged me, put her hand in my mouth, ran in circles around me, and threw the stuffed Tarantula I got from the aquarium in Chicago all over the room. She smelled like urine, but I couldn't stay away from her. And at the end of the night she was covered in yogurt and it was the cutest. She's a strong baby and fiercely stubborn. She broke my sister's nose with a head butt a few months ago, which is another reason to believe Jason was hurting her.
My sister and I talked. We spoke earnestly about how she was doing: there were problems, but no more than anyone else has, arguments, but none resulting in violence, but things are as good for her as they ever were. She's happy, healthy, safe, loved, and loving. At first I kept up the appearance that my spontaneous visit was due to intuitive concern. But I knew she didn't believe it and didn't want her to have any concerns herself, I told her what Meghan had told me. I told her about telling mom and dad and that mom fainted. My sister went nuts. It was all false, all of the information I got. Meghan was relaying to me rumors, dangerously incorrect rumors. And immediately I felt like a fool. Everything is fine and I'm a fucking idiot.
This is all Meghan's fault. All of it. I wouldn't have been content with my sister's testimony over the phone, I needed to come and see how she was doing. If what Meghan was speculating turned out to be true, I'd carry an indestructible guilt with me for the rest of my life, having promised to stop Jason from hurting Priv years ago if it were to ever happen.
BUT, what Meghan supposed is completely false and unfortunately, I've wasted time and money because I needed to prove that it was false.
My mom and dad think I'm brave, they sent me off like I was a soldier. My sister was understandably disturbed, but grateful that I came. And in such situations, I reserve at least a little sympathy for myself. But not now. I'm awfully embarrassed and I feel like I've caused most of the harm in this instance. My mom fainted, my parents spent a considerable sum getting me here, I disrupted Priv and Jason's lives at a time when they needed peace. Jason was a pallbearer the day before I got here. I feel like because they were so rash, I have no excuse for my actions. I fucked everything up. I want all of this to be stricken from the record.
I want to go home, right now.
