Showing Up
So thank you, Anne, for inspiring me on Friday to laugh, to show up (I almost didn’t come to the talk. Isn’t that silly?), and to tell my version of things.
So thank you, Anne, for inspiring me on Friday to laugh, to show up (I almost didn’t come to the talk. Isn’t that silly?), and to tell my version of things.
The series never forgets all the hard work it takes to achieve the freedom that Adolescence of Utena celebrates, and painstakingly details the progressions it takes to achieve liberation.
The potential deposit return on the cascade of empty soda bottles spilling out of the front hall closet is likely sufficient to pay my wife’s bus fare for the next three semesters.
And this is a little bit comforting, but mostly annoying. Because what if God doesn’t intend for you to head toward that promotion, wasn’t planning on sticking to your timetables?
So you can imagine my confusion when boys neglected to be dazzled by my still un-shaved armpits and my attempts to engage them in witty repartee by repeatedly quoting Muppet Treasure Island.
Before one of our visits, she announced that while we were there, she wanted to have a List Party. With a cake. As soon as she said list party, the idea grew legs. Wings. We all said, Absolutely yes.
Part of the tension around New Year resolutions, I’ve realized, is suggested by the paradoxes of the meaning and etymology of the word resolution itself.
I have dabbled in piano, even learning two songs by memory just to have a few to play in case I’m zapped back to the nineteenth century and have to play piano in the equivalent of a Jane Austen novel.
I always figured that if I had something I legitimately wanted to change, I would certainly not make a NYR regarding it, because that would be pre-determining failure for the thing I actually cared about.
My favorite picture in the whole world: my maternal grandparents in their Sunday best, walking down a street. It’s a black-and-white picture, and to this day, I’m not entirely sure how they had it taken.