Roots

My sister got into this discussion with my parents the other day about who our ancestors where and where they grew up and when they arrived in America. That sort of thing. She found a listing of my granny's polish ancestors online. To be honest though, I've hardly ever given much thought to anyone older than my great grand parents in my family. I know the basics of my background, but knowing all about the numerous persons who lead up to my existence never seemed so vital to me i guess. I wonder if it's a bad thing, not really caring or bothering to. But at the same time i wonder if knowing who they were really makes a difference. I know that they're important in a way because a portion of my genetics comes from them, but beyond that i wonder if there is really much significance in knowing. After all, i am influenced by my living relatives, not those who have come and gone before my time. And what about those who've been adopted? They don't always know who they came from or what their background is, and yet they go on living anyway and are influenced by their foster parents. I don't know if this even has a point or really makes for an argument of any sort. I'm just wondering as always.

I had an incredibly strange dream the other night. Part of it involved you and I walking around in this commercial, mall-ish area in Italy. Why Italy I have no idea. I looked pretty American though. Anyway, We got separated and i was trying to find a restaurant or something of the sort where we were suppose to meet but i had no idea where i was and felt really confussed. It got stranger though because in my dream the pope had his headquarters somewhere within this shopping complex (ironic pairing of spiritual and the material) and i happened to spot the pope with a number of other church men going now the escalator. They were dressed in nice button up shirts and navy pants. except the churchmen were in white and the pope had on a blue button up collared shirt with thin pink vertical stripes. I don't know if this is significant at all. I go up to him and ask him where I could find the restaraunt. He and his cronies just laughed as he told me i was just a dumb, silly girl. I remember turning around and running up the escalator which somehow turned into the stairs from school and i then suddenly found myself in a bright sunny football field and confronted with an even more bizzare senario. I honestly found myself quite perplexed by the whole thing.

I began reading the Perks of Being a Wallflower last night. I ended up spending a little over a whole hour reading the first quarter of the book. I didn't even register the amount of time that had passed until i bookmarked my place at the begining of part two and looked up at the clock. It faintly reminds me of Flowers for Algernon in that the character's name is Charlie. Also, he seems to have a very similar mindset. Kind of innocent, sweet, naive. Just looking to be accepted. Also, the simple construction of his sentences seem to remind me of Charlie's in Flowers as well. I find it enjoyable to read though so far.

I hope you are good. I tried calling you today. I guess you were out and about. So I just finished a painting instead. Hopefully I'll see you soon.