June 14, 2005

• You guys were right.  This thing where Anna and I write together has really been a wonderful way to get to know each other on a new plane.  And it’s just by chance lately.  First she helped me edit, then I helped her with a story she’d written for class.  It’s funny because I’ve noticed since the trip she is in the throws of that 17-year-old state of thinking mom’s full of shit.  That’s not what she really thinks, that’s just how she makes me feel.  She disagrees with anything I think or say, just on principle.  I remember the older girls, that summer before senior year, really pushing to establish their identity, SEPARATE from me; like wanting a new relationship where they were more dominant. 

  
  

  The writing is a perfect way for her to do this because she’ll be reading my novel and say, “I don’t like this.  It should be:  ……”  And I say, “Oh, you’re right.  Yeah, change it.”  And she’ll make the changes herself. 

  
  

  But when she reads her stuff aloud and I say, “what about if you …..”  she is stubborn at first but then relents, hearing it sound better.  And  so then we get into these discussions about what my characters or hers might do and it’s such a true way of interacting and so much fun for both of us.

  
  

  But not as fun as tonight.  For a final project in English she was supposed to make a booklet about something near and dear to her.  She chose color.  We rifled through magazines for pictures to depict the pieces we wrote.  I probably shouldn’t have ( I said I wouldn’t) but I wrote a poem about these flowers I bought.  Plus I wrote a little prose about my favorite necklace.  And she wrote a fantastic poem so we read each other our stuff and then cut out the pictures and she put it all together in such a beautiful way.  What fun.  We’ve managed to play with words three days in a row now and that’s some kind of record for her driving over here.

  • 2:32 am
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