My grandmother, my aunt Cindy, my sister Krissie, and my mom. Today we sat around a table outside in the absolutely gorgeous mid-May weather, just up a bank from the river in Parsons, and I listened to each of them describe their lives as wives and mothers. It’s a tale of cooking and cleaning and confusion and unconditional love. My grandmother likes to tell the story of her persnickety children and late husband, who were…
He/she does not have a name yet, as he/she has only been in this world since April 20 and therefore does not have an easily identifiable gender. Therefore, the floor is open for names — unisex names obviously being the easiest and most egalitarian to choose at this point — but I will certainly pass along the gender once it’s identified (the entire world’s axis rotation depending on a gender ID, yeesh) so that we…
When my mom laughs, my world goes brighter. Today I said something terribly unfunny (in one of my many misguided attempts to be funny) and she gave me the best courtesy laugh and laid her head on my shoulder. It was such a great Mom moment. She goes above and beyond to make her kids feel special. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. You are the absolute greatest mother I could have ever asked for.
[for May 12] Please ignore the decorative bird poo on the window. If only my driver’s side window rolled down, I could take less disgusting “Oh-crap-I-need-a-picture-today!” photos out my window. Project 365
Raiford’s Hollywood is closing. Again and again people keep saying this is the end of an era. I can’t really speak to that, as I’ve not been in Memphis long enough to talk about eras, but I do know that I regret not making it back to Raiford’s after my initial visit soon after I first moved here. (I can’t find the effing post about it, but it’s an emotional mess. That I remember. Yikes,…
[for May 11] He seems very concerned. Project 365
• Give me $100 so my rent check won’t bounce. • Better yet, buy me a house. • Get my jokes. They’re not that obscure. • Make my arms stop peeling. How many layers, exactly, did I burn? • Squash this insufferable anxious ennui that’s churning in my gut at all times. • Give me some kind of hope that I’m not wasting my twenties being even angstier and weirder and lonelier than my teens.…
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