The Pre-Exodus Project
I discovered the other side of recorded music. The side we didn’t talk about in Professor Nordling’s class, and the side that makes recorded music even more challenging, I think, than live music.
I discovered the other side of recorded music. The side we didn’t talk about in Professor Nordling’s class, and the side that makes recorded music even more challenging, I think, than live music.
You can hyphenate your last name and your husband’s last name. You can take two last names. You can combine your last names into a new last name (for real, people do this).
Later, I was absentmindedly stirring my carbohydrate poverty (linguini) and gazing into the depths of slowly revolving noodles, lost in the translucent swirling. Then a voice startled me out of my reflections.
Ok, ok. I know what you’re thinking: It was a fly, Sabrina. It was something that hangs around poo and contaminates your food and is just generally a nuisance. You did humanity a service.
Presenting the best version of ourselves becomes loaded with pretense, as if our first impressions lock in our identities throughout the duration of a relationship.
And then, when we had some friends over for a spaghetti and meatballs dinner party, I did it: I ate a meatball. And I didn’t die. And it tasted really, really good.
One year I was Santa Claus. That worked pretty well. But then the next year I couldn’t think of anything, so I just went as Mrs. Claus. People still thought I was Santa.
a wind has blown the rain away and blown / the sky away and all the leaves away, / and the trees stand. I think i too have known / autumn too long
I passed through hallways and doorways and stairwells, amazed at how these old spaces came back to me, the feeling of moving through them. I still find myself here in my dreams occasionally.
I attend graduate school, work as a nanny, and live above a bakery. This is an easy and compact answer to toss, like a Tic-Tac, at the question I too often hear: “So, what are you up to?”