Theme # 1: Cold/Hot

Winter 1986:  Albuquerque, NM, age 14

            

Fighting with my mother one night.  I can’t even remember over what, of course.  It was so trivial and pointless, like any other fight ever in the face of parents/teenagers; filled with emotion and irrationalities.  It was made worse by my mother’s mental issues, and by my probable schizophrenia.  Anyways, it was a shouting match.  I felt wronged, and I stormed out of the house to take a walk, to let off steam - to find someone, anyone, who I could talk to or find solace in.  I stomped off down the street, wishing I had a warmer jacket.  It was dark, cold, winter.  There were remnants of snow on the ground, but it was dry – New Mexico dry.  I began to feel depressed as I realized that I could not think of one person to whom I could actually find peace with.  There was nobody who I could curl up into and cry and sleep and be safe.  Filled to overflowing with loneliness, I started scanning the ground for a sign.  I found a cigarette; dry, unsmoked.  How strange.  I didn’t smoke.  I started searching for matches now; scanning the sides of the road, wracking my brain to think of who might have a light for me, because I knew I had to smoke that cigarette.  Had to.  My hunt made me forget my sorrow and loneliness for a while, which was comforting.  Apparently, you can find anything if you look hard enough (another lesson learned), in the Valley of Albuquerque.  I opened up the ragged matchbook, amazed at my luck.  Only three matches!  Of course, the last one finally lit the cigarette, and I took a puff.  I got a hot heady rush that spun my head around, raced my heart, and made me feel energized.  This smoking stuff is awesome!  My mind cleared.  I turned around and started home.  I never made it home that night.  I was intercepted by a carload of my friends and my older brother.  They scooped me up and rejoiced that I was now a smoker, offering me cigarettes and laughing at my clumsiness with inhaling.  Bloated with our own amazingness, we ended up at my “boyfriend’s” house, crashed out on his couches and floor after watching The Wall again.