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americana Bacchus billy joel boys cars city of angels college dance dance dance date night dollars and sense dream life end of days fighting fire freak out getting old girls grad school green H house I wish jobs LAX magic pebbles memory Nashville new jersey new york occupy Paris Hilton piano poetry pop life promos public transit real estate roses Shakespeare shit Simone de Beauvoir Temperance/Prohibition The Rules uniforms vacations weddings
Tag Archives: H
The Princess Phase
..And yet, when I introduce my girl to the actresses in full Ariel and Cinderella finery, and I see her little eyes light up… I can’t help it. I love the princesses for being so real to her. She is … Continue reading
Dance, dance, evolution.
My father drove me to ballet classes for years, at Mrs. Stamps’ Ballet Academy. I stopped right after I started to learn to go up on point, before I got my own toe shoes. This mean that my parents suffered … Continue reading
Time travel
I don’t usually miss me in my twenties. Blinkered, that girl tried so hard to kill what she felt, to be someone she wasn’t. She tried so hard to be brave. Who wants to hang out with her? My friends … Continue reading
Los Brazos
We were in Texas. The taxi from the Waco airport pulled up into a summer night full of crickets—crickets hopping slowly outside baggage claim, crickets in the bushes, crickets in the air. The drive to our hotel felt like a … Continue reading
Oatmeal
This morning, I put H.’s breakfast bowl of oatmeal in the microwave, because she said she wanted it heated up. She proceeded to scream at me because I hadn’t let her push the buttons on the microwave. When I told … Continue reading
Pieces of the Past
When I found out I was having a girl, I cried for three days. It took me a while to figure out some basic facts about this reaction, including the fact that not everyone has it. In the language of … Continue reading
Dear FB,
Admit it. When you change the site, you have an equation that predicts the socioeconomic profile of every annoyed user who will leave. Each vaguely annoying shift purges the unwilling, those refusing to shape themselves to the technology instead of … Continue reading
Insomnia
Track 1) The brain is grooved. It is like the needle won’t lift and go to the next track. Track 2) Will H. even recognize record players? I remember the smell of my father’s LPs in the credenza in the … Continue reading
The Babysitter
Last night, I took care of our friend’s child. It was like a vacation. He went to bed so fast it was like black magic. I kind of hate our friends now. No, not really. Just a little. I grew … Continue reading
Upon Buying A Medicine Cabinet at IKEA
The Ikea problem comes to a head in the bathroom section, where I have what I can only describe as an existential crisis. Who am I? Has it come to this? What does this medicine cabinet mean? The crisis is … Continue reading
Posted in 300 words a day, this is not my beautiful house
Tagged dollars and sense, H, I wish, new jersey
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