I’m always told “he’s three; he’ll grow out of it.” It makes me wonder if my little boy will grow up to be a petty manipulator, a get-over bullshit-artist, a temper-tantrum-throwing spoiled brat of an adult… or if he will really grow out of it as everyone says.
Harlem the Man never grew out of it.
...read more hereI’m not certain what made me feel so high this morning. It might have been the lack of sleep, the unresolved conflict, or the fact that I so enjoy the act of writing a letter, but I felt so elated that I offered to clear the snow away from the door. Yes, by myself. Yes, it was knee-deep.
...read more hereI’ve noticed about my new life situation that it causes me to crave sleep at the time when i should be asleep and crave food at the time when i should eat…
...read more hereBut more than anything else, Harlem the Place became a metaphor and a scapegoat for all of my other problems, and that’s hardly Harlem’s fault. Whenever I was not in a position to truly articulate my discomfort with my situation, I could blame it on the neighborhood. “Man, I gotta get the hell out of Harlem.”
...read more hereI leaned to the young lady sitting next to me. “Did I just see that? Did that just happen?”
… Nobody made a loud comment or protested or even tried to save him.
...read more hereIt’s not even my job to wash the dishes, really… and I don’t like washing dishes in general. But when the kids keep asking me why i won’t play with them at this particular moment, the dishes are a decent excuse.
...read more hereHarlem is a place, a man, and a mistake.
Harlem the Mistake was a horrible mistake and an embarrassing one. It’s what happens when you do something truly stupid, with no justification…
...read more hereIt’s strange for me to say that my boss will take care of me, but it’s true. I wonder for how many other people this is true? Even now as I type this, I am on my computer but in her house, eating her chocolate frosting out of the can with her spoon.
Granted, it’s a yellow iridescent kiddie spoon … but still.
...read more hereActually, it’s not entirely fair to call either one of us bitter, especially since we have both taken responsibility for being the cause of our problems … and we agree that neither of us has much right to inflict ourselves on the world.
Come to think of it, that does sound like bitterness.
...read more hereThere’s something about Brooklyn. I wasn’t born and raised in Brooklyn, but I think I’m a brooklyn girl now.
My friend is a real Manhattanite. Like Sex and the City. Theoretically, we should be incompatible.
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