Thursday, February 23, 2006

a lullabye on love

My life is chaos. But you always know you've found true love when its simple touch can make your life so much more meaningful and complete. When that soft, little hand reaches out to you and gently strokes your cheek to make sure you're still there by his side and that you haven't left in the night, your heart melts and you find yourself snuggling up to smell his sweet, sweet scent. That's when you know you've found it. And when he opens his eyes and smiles, you can't help but smile back - even when he begins to point and cry, "dog, dog, dog!" Despite your longing for his cries to scream, "emo, emo, emo!", true love is simply accepting that at the moment, you too are "dog".

good night, little andres. I can't wait till your vocabulary develops.

Saturday, February 18, 2006

a date with two of my favorite boys

People keep asking me about this boy I've been dating. Who he is. How we met. What he does. I've been getting phone calls from California to Chicago from questioning eyes at school. And I know that at the bottom of all their questions lies the most important one. Am I happy. I tell them who he is and how we met. And sometimes I'll tell a story of what he does that answers just how happy I am.

So we begin.

Thursday night. He wants to go to the Andy Warhol exhibit at the Children's Museum. "Is that weird?", he asks. No. We can bring my nephew along. "Ok." Pause. Then he asks, "Wait, does he walk yet?" No, but he's trying really hard. It's totally cute. You can finally meet him! "Ok." Pause. "So how does a kid who can barely walk and can't speak going to get from Brooklyn to the upper west side?" What do you mean? I'll go down and get him. Pause. "Oh." Pause. "Are you going to put him in some kind of bag or something?" He's a newbie with babies, but it's a bit endearing.

my nephew is simply scrumptious. that is, until he starts showing preferential treatment towards non-family members.

Anyway, after a long day of running by Andy Warhol photos and crawling through dark tunnels over and over again, my little guy was pooped and found rest in the tired arms of my other guy - all the way from the upper west side back to Brooklyn. No bag needed.

It was a lovely way to spend a Friday afternoon.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

"i can see your belly button!"

Come now. Wouldn't you be if you suddenly found yourself visiting with ms. mona lisa? Needless to say, it was a lovely surprise. The second I got my boarding pass, I called my sister and screamed, "&%$@%@-P-A-R-I-S-*%&#@#!!!"

I hadn't been to Paris in five years, and the city was as lovely as I last remembered her. Colder but just as lovely. If you were there last weekend, you would have seen one happy gal arm in arm with her boy as he sang, "i love paris in the winter. i love paris in the morning..."

Two days later, this is what i came back to. My poor car.


Wednesday, February 08, 2006

the apparent uninheritable

Someone recently informed me that they dreamt about me reading poetry while topless. Their dreams are more exciting than my reality I guess.

I am wearing a suit right now. I don't like me very much in a suit. But I especially hate me in my DTA/waitress uniform. I had to quit that. The first time I put it on, I looked at my boss and said, "there is just no way to look sexy in this shirt. you're killing me in tips." He rolled his eyes and probably muttered some type of profanity in my direction. That big cuddly bear. So I'm done waiting tables and embracing an even poorer existence of student life, but I will embrace it fully. I've said this a million times before but with all my friends getting married, having babies, and buying houses in the suburbs I've often wondered if I've taken the right roads in life. My boy looks at me and says, "no - you're right where you belong. it'll all work out." But I disagree. I don't think this diva was ever meant to be so constrained by finances! Still life moves on and never waits for you to lament these petty grievances.

My mother came in for a visit. She has an uncanny knack for avoiding tickets. I have to learn this. She was pulled over for going 80 on 95. The cop demanded, "Do you know why I pulled you over ma'am?" She replies with equal authority and weight, "I go high speed!" He stutters, "That's right ma'am and you have unclear plates." Of course my mother doesn't grasp this until the third or fourth explanation and then it hits her, "oh! FINALLY, I got it! But that's not my fault. The dealer make it that way." In the end, she was let go with a warning. My sister professes it's because he was so exhausted that he didn't have the energy to write her a ticket.

This stands in start contrast to my police encounter a few days earlier. Pulled over for talking on the phone while driving. Damn it. Totally my fault. Twenty minutes later I know something is up. The cop comes over and says, "I'm giving you two summons." TWO? "Yup, one for talking on the phone..." Yeah, yeah, yeah. "And the other for an expired license." I snatched it right from his hands and sure enough - expired. There goes 225 dollars on top of my other bills. Maybe I shouldn't have quit my day job.

But my fortune cookie from lunch tells me, "Remember, after rain there is always sunshine."