Site Meter Reflections on Playboy: Begun the Teenage Liberation War has

March 5, 2009

Begun the Teenage Liberation War has

Justice will be mine. 36-year-old Brian will avenge the repression and humiliation of 16-year-old Brian, even if it takes another twenty years. To learn the source of the outrage, please read The Teenage Liberation Repayment Plan™.

Monday, March 2: Enough is enough. Having taken the hint from the constant distraction of my rage, I take the first step in forcing a confrontation with my mother. I check out of my motel room in Eureka, rent a car, and drive to the home of [name censored] at [address censored] in Chico, California. I arrive unexpectedly and pretend to agree to stay only one night.

Tuesday, March 3: She insists that I help her find a local motel room for me to stay in. In the morning, the rented car is due for return, which gives me a perfect excuse to leave her house. For the rest of the day, I avoid Mom’s house, exploring Chico at my whim. Returning after she has gone to bed, I treat myself to an unauthorized extra night in her guest bedroom.

Wednesday, March 4: “We have to talk!” she says in the morning. From the opposite side of the guest bedroom door, I promise to talk after taking a much-needed shower. I’m spry enough to sneak out of her house after showering and putting on clean clothes. The promised talk doesn’t happen. During the day, I check my Site Meter account and find that someone in Chico has just spent 17 minutes browsing the main page of this blog, which currently includes The Teenage Liberation Repayment Plan™. Is it who I think it is? I hope so, because I think it would whip up the shitstorm I’m looking for. That night, I find it impossible to reenter the house. Mom has removed the outdoor guest key and taped written warnings to each door that she will call the cops if I break in. The next few hours are agony for me as I feel hopeless and very cold in the rain-soaked backyard.

Today: My good spirits return with the rising of the sun and a walk through town to get breakfast. When I get back, I’m still not allowed in the house, but I notice how easily I can lay siege to the backyard, where Mom keeps her beloved garden. She and I bicker from opposite sides of the sliding glass door. “I’m so angry I can’t see straight!” she barks about The Teenage Liberation Repayment Plan™, which she indeed discovered yesterday. It’s sweet music to my ears. I spy on her through the glass as obnoxiously as possible while she makes a phone call. Wondering if the cops are coming, I decide to make another artful getaway into town. I’m typing these words at a rented computer station at a copy and postal shop. Getting arrested would not necessarily be the worst possible outcome, but I can generate more frustration for my enemy by postponing it. What a grand adventure this is becoming!

Update, March 22, 2009, 12:33 p.m.: Since I first published this post, the adventure has continued in too much detail to relate here. I’ve gone back to Humboldt County and come back to Chico again. To make a long story short, I’ve finagled at least one week per month, possibly more, of free lodging and free food at Mom’s house. Sucker! The change has come; she’s under my thumb. By the way, I stopped wearing my T-shirt that says MY FATHER DIED BEFORE I COULD KILL HIM on March 2—not from any change of heart, but for strategic reasons. The shirt is in storage until I choose to wear it again.

Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 2:01 PM

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