After writing about my laundry debacle and my mom’s subsequent rescue, I keep recalling another time my mom bailed me out.
Posts under ‘Ties that bind...and gag’
I was a gray-haired college student
Gray underwear, scurvy, and a frantic call home
My mom had to talk me off a ledge last night.
I hurried home after Saturday school to meet the dad that bought the exersaucer on Craigslist. Then I cleaned up my room, ran to Duane Reade to buy some detergent, and did laundry at the apartment. One of the greatest amenities of my apartment, besides the location and proximity to everything, is the washer and dryer in our kitchen. Free laundry is a beautiful thing…or so I always thought. I triumphantly crossed all the lines off the to-do list only to find later that the washer ruined some of my whites. My two white undershirts were gray. My white pillow case was ecru. A light pink nightskirt now had blue-gray bruises all over the front.
I am here
My dad believes that moving to New York is a big step down from living in Texas. I understand that people in Texas have a lot more discretionary income, the housing is more affordable, the cities are cleaner, the public schools are better, but as far as I’m concerned, those factors don’t outweigh that New York City is really happening. I enjoy my public transportation, landmarks, constant flurry of activity, and liberal politics. I can’t imagine ever raising a family in this city, because of how hard it is to live comfortably here, but I’m really excited that I moved. When I go to Times Square - which I generally detest for its commercialism and overcrowding - I’m still awe-struck. I look up at the buildings miles above me and think, “I live here?”
Rain on me
The pound of rain roused me last night. I smiled half-awake, rolled over, and returned to slumber. Nothing makes me sleep more soundly than knowing that I am warm and comfortable inside when it is wet and cold outside.
Not to be missed
Being here isn’t just about making new connections. It’s also about trying to maintain old ones, despite the distance. This isn’t easy and I miss a lot of the people I used to see daily or at least more regularly than I do now.
Trying to appease my dad with a story about a midget
A conversation with my dad:
My Dad: Your blog has gotten boring.
Me: How?
My Dad: No one wants to read about how you and your friend got diarrhea! We want to hear about New York!
Me: But…we got diarrhea in New York.
My Dad: Go to an art museum and then write about it in your blog.
Honk if you wanna see my boobies!
I’m from a small town. In fact, I don’t often name the small town I’m really from. Instead, I always say I’m from the surrounding small town, which people from my small town think of as the city. ‘Tis true.
The okay-looking and the pathetic
Years after Aaron and I declared ourselves the reincarnation of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald (and acted accordingly), I read that comedienne Margaret Cho and one of her old boyfriends also thought they were just as crazy, artistic, and fanciful as the famous Jazz Age couple. In the book I’m The One That I Want, Margaret Cho said something like, “We thought we were the beautiful and the damned. Turns out, we were just the okay-looking and pathetic.”
An old friend anew
I’m the master of the lost connection.
Salty dog, hold the grapefruit juice
I call it “Too Salty.” What would you title this photograph?
