Labor Day among grown-ups
I’m finally back from New Jersey and my, was it grand!
Chen and I got a ride with a surgeon and his girlfriend, Phillis Levin, who lives a few blocks away from us. Levin is a poet/professor, and was part of Poetry 180. You may google her now. That’s not a celebrity encounter, as I didn’t know she was ever in the New Yorker or anything until the car ride home. I had never heard of her before, but she calls Billy Collins “Billy” and has worked with Stephen Dunn and Sharon Olds. She is officially an interesting person to have met.
Almost catastrophic
I nearly witnessed a feline death/suicide last night.
I was walking down Broadway, and something told me, “Don’t be afraid of looking like a tourist - look up now!” There was a cat on the ledge of an open window many stories above me. It was fluffy and leaning as far out as humanly, no feline-ly, possible without falling to its death.
Ambiance of negligence
*I wrote this during my last semester of college. I called this “The Ambiance of Negligence.” You’d think with a title like that, I’d be writing about the need for NYC public school reform or a terrible dive with roaches that is still a popular eating establishment. No. I was just being haughty and contemplative.
A Box of Matches
I just finished my last library book, so I can definitely pick up my five new books (that I reserved last week that were specially delivered to the library branch I chose!) this afternoon. NYPL, I love you.
If I’m quiet, he’s quieter
I remember once when I had first met Sam and my life was exploding into something bigger than I had ever experienced, I was crossing University Avenue on the corner where Kinsolving is. It was dark - I don’t remember where I was going - and the streetlights cast just the right amount and angles of illumination on me that I had two shadows for the first time. My one shadow had grown up with me. I remember how excited I was when it finally had breasts in profile! The other shadow was new, a stranger I didn’t know I had inside, outside, or on top of me. I wondered if one shadow was the good Amanda, the other the evil Amanda. Which was me-er?
Now I understand my dad’s jars of it
Today I remembered an experiment I started doing when I first moved here. I wanted to put all the change I usually leave in the bottom of my bag or in my pockets aside and see how much I collected. I know I could save more money if I didn’t cast away change like it was some stale Cheetos in some stranger’s couch cushions.
The low-down on my NYC middle school
First of all, I must mention that I have immensely enjoyed getting email from pals old and new lately. Thank you to everyone who is reading my blog or who at least responded to ABME. (Of course, only those who read the blog even know they’re getting thanked… Hmmm. I should write everyone back, and I will someday [not] soon when I have my classroom set up). I love an audience. More than having a record of a day’s events to look back on, I like to think that someone looks forward to reading my writing. That’s why I write.
The 39 steps
Between me and every decision I make in this city lay the 39 steps. Not the Alfred Hitchcock film, but the 39 steps I must climb to get up to and down from my apartment. Every day. More than twice.
