Haven’t been blogging as much since my mother started reading my blog…. since she started commenting, it’s been impossible. Hi, Mom, I love you, but… So I’m here on the subway on my way to some job, some place of employment where I employ myself, and I wasn’t sure if I should bring my laptop, […]Read More meditating on mothers who read blogs
We’re not great gift givers. When it’s my birthday, I tell D exactly what I want. And I ask him to go get it. At some point during this conversation, whether over weeks or a few minutes, we argue about it. D doesn’t like to be told what to get for me, but my goal […]Read More We’re not great gift givers.
Arrive at subway station. Wait 15 minutes for N train. Q train arrives instead. Board Q train. Feel okay about progress, both trains go to Union Sq. Make next station stop. Bw that stop and the next we are informed that train will go local from here on out. Proceed very slowly to local stops. […]Read More Right this very godforsaken minute beneath a city of millions
I finished my book last night. My novel. It feels strange to say, like after you get married and say “husband” for the first time. I finished the first real finished draft. There’s still bits and pieces, like I know there’s a thing I forgot to put in near the end, and some moments and […]Read More I finished.
My son’s backpack came home from school yesterday stuffed full of gifts. “Christopher gave me a Playmobile guy!” He said, “and Valentina gave me an activity book. I got Hershey kisses, and candy canes!” He was so excited, but with every addition to the list of loot the knot in my stomach tightened. Why? Why […]Read More giving gifts: bah! humbug.
I’ve been using this year’s round of holiday malaise as a great opportunity to rewatch some Deep Space Nine. I’m up to Season 6: Episode 23, Time’s Orphan (I’ve been skipping around), and while I remember watching the episode previously, this time through it really rankled. Like I was sitting there yelling ‘wtf, O’Briens,’ at […]Read More Reinforcing trauma based delusions on DS9
Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth, over a century after its publication, is a transcendent work exploring the trauma of sexual harassment. It was criticized in its time as a ‘novel of manners,’ while its proponents called it a social satire. Maybe it’s about manners, maybe it’s a scathing commentary on wealthy socialite culture, but mostly […]Read More The Sexual Harassment of Lily Bart