What’s In A Name?
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).
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?”
We have to rail against injustice and doggedly lament evil. We have to mourn and cry out and punch the air and scream that this is not the way things are supposed to be.