a lot of she-ite to report...
but imma hold off because this bitch is strapped for time.i have 14 minutes to write, refresh and leave my buidling to meet up with a friend.
i'm going to interrupt all dating/trolling updates, to talk about a moment i had today.
a special moment, wherein i actually cried.
i'm effing pms-ing like a mo fo.
i was sitting in an edit room in a land where the sun dances and ladies tell stories of their children and weekend adventures and bedroom redecorating.
this struck a chord in me, as the mommy in the pretty skirt - sitting to the left of me - said she was redoing her sons room. his big boy bed was arriving tomorrow and the new comforter set too...by the time he got home from school tomorrow...he would have a new room...what a surprise...
and, i recalled the time my ma and da (said with a brooklyn accent, thank you) did the same for me.
i lived in a hand me down room...the whole house i grew up in was, actually. my parents - me and my brothers - we never had a house of our own. always an upstairs apartment, in brooklyn, with the rest of the family living down below on the other two floors.
my room had lime green shag carpeting.
my room had silver wallpaper with pychedelic green flowers that used to make me nauseous when i stared for too long.
my room was decked out in white formica furniture with gold trim.
i spent the weekend at my aunt's house, and then went to this mean girl's pool party. i was chubby, i didn't want to go, but my parents were friends with her wop parents and i had to show...
but i came home...
i came home...
to the most beautiful pink room - ever.
beautiful border. new mauve carpeting. the vanity chair, the one i always wanted - that sat out back in my grandpas garage - had been rewelded and repaired for my new room.
i thought about it today and cried.
because that seemed like yesterday, but it was almost 18 years ago.
and my parents have their own home now, for the first time.
and all this bullshitting i do, seems really obtuse right now.
but wait until tomorrow.
it'll be broughten.
and in the middle of this i got a phone call from a nervie for a date on Sunday.
a food critic.
39 divorced.
we're meeting at a restuarant.
jesus help me.
a whole meal...
i think imma cancel, now that i think about it.
i can feel the blanket of crutchery falling over my body ever so slightly.
and by that i mean wtf. what if he's an old dude axe murderer....
i'm being an extremist.
i know.
but this is what i do.
extreme dating.
ok, not really.
not at all.
i'm a goofy young girl, he sounds like an old man.
enough.
enough.
we're going out for brazilian food.
imma eat meat.
and get out.
and write about it Sunday night.
his emails were good, but lacking in the phone skills.
help, i need somebody - help.
posted by tinamarie @ 5:46 PM
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