we no have fun

My aquageezer buddy, Kay, often speaks with choppy, broken English. I think she does it because she knows it is adorable because she is also an amazing, brilliant English speaker. When we anointed ourselves the 'aquageezers', she had me write down the word geezer. Then she googled it and came back the next day to discuss the word some more. A few months ago, she was all het up about the word 'lameduck'. If you ask me, any foreigner that researches the meaning of words like lameduck and geezer knows plenty good English.

"Oh, Tree," said China girl, aka Kay, "You back early. This very good. Very good." She holds her arms out to indicate she wants a hug. As we embrace, she explains to Whitey, a swimmer we only see on the weekends, that the weekday aquageezers missed me all week.

"Tree no come, we no have fun, not so much talk," she said, smiling, nodding, laughing. "Tree come, talk very good. Very much fun. Good Tree is back, yes?"

Whitey agrees pleasantly enough although he has never really drunk the pleasures of Tree. Whitey never talks to me. He always brings the current Time magazine and stands reading it intently, giving off the vibe, to me anyway, that he doesn't want anyone to approach him. So I don't. But when Kay comes (sometimes she comes late on the weekends so Whitey and I stand, silently, at the gate), Whitey puts away his magazine and chats about Asia. I think this is odd and, also, adorable. Whitey once had a job that took him to Bangkok many times each year. Whenever Kay shows up, he talks about Bangkok, sometimes veering into other parts of Asia, but mostly Bangkok. It amuses me that he seems crabby, taciturn but then he lights up with talk of Bangkok.

Thailand has been a little scary lately, as Kay herself declared this morning. "My country, it shame me sometime," she said. Then Whitey went down the list of Asian countries that oppress human rights even more than Thailand, like Burma or Cambodia. This conversation stream fascinates me. I note, at least I think I do, that Kay doesn't really like to talk about the politics of Thailand. I note, at least I think I do, that Whitey seems oblivious to Kay's discomfort. I note, I think, that Whitey just can't resist revisiting the time in his life when internaitonal travel was routine and that is probably why he is a bit insensitive to Kay's discomfort.

But enough about other people. Let's keep the focus on me.

Gosh golly, I am flying high over Kay's warm greeting. Tree no come, we no have fun. I love being loved by people much more than not being loved by them. How was it that I lived for so many years without this simple joy? I know why. I was very sick. And I have worked hard to be well. But I only really stepped into the sunlight, the joy of simple, routine love, when my friend Marc came along and saw me whole. I was ready to be seen. Someone would have sooner or later. But he's the one who came along at the right moment. I love him the most out of everybody these days. Keep in mind that the prize of being my favorite person is bestowed on a daily basis, it must be earned anew and I reserve the right to move on to another favorite person tomorrow. Today, my favorites are Marc and Kay.

I love everybody again today. For a week or so, I have been feeling really dark. I didn't go swimming five days in a row. In true borderline fashion, I thought, a day or two ago, that I was done swimming forever. We borderlines tend to see things in black and white, which is why we are so often suicidal. There is no ebb and flow in a borderline's inner horizon: there is a horizon or there isn't a horizon. There is no mid-distance view, no pause to wait for the tide to change. So, after I missed my swim for several days, I was a little depressed, telling myself my swimming was all over and now I would regain all the weight I have lost and woe-is-me, I lamented, I just gave away all my fattest clothes and now when I regain eighty pounds I will have to buy new ones and now no one is ever going to come along and date me and love me and when I regain the weight, I will get fatter than before and soon I will explode because I am so fat, which is, when you think about it, what fat people do: they do blow up with high blood pressure or a stroke, which is like blowing up, right? Anyway, that was yesterday.

I went to bed thinking, my good, new life is over and I'll never swim again. I didn't even set the alarm for swimming. I told myself that if I was going to get up and swim again, well, I'd have to wake up on my own, dammit.

And I did wake up on my own.

So grudgingly, very grudgingly, I put on my suit and packed my swim bag and trudged over to the pool. Harhumph. I was grouchy. I didn't listen to my iPod. I breathed fire at passing traffic. Snarl.

I wasn't going to swim two hours. I was just going to do thirty minutes. Fuck swimming. Fuck my health.

Then Kay said "Tree no come, we no have fun. Tree come, everything very good."

I am such a baby.

Seriously, I am grossly immature. But hear this, pay attention to me and read on. If I was reborn on the 5th of May last year, and those who love me will agree that I was, well, then, goodness, I am a toddler now. I am just beginning the terrible twos. Toddlers are often crabby for no good reason and they are often cajoled out of their distemper with a cooing chirp from a caring adult. Kay chirped happily at me this morning and poof! my distemper evaporated.

I am going to have to live in California forever, I see now. I need to swim outdoors. All the pools in Seattle seem dank and dreary to me. Well, they are dreary compared to Midwestern indoor pools, if you ask me.