Everywhere where there is a professor is a classroom, including the 2-train on the way out of Brooklyn. [...] The real lesson happened somewhere in Downtown Brooklyn, when the prof. started telling cautionary anecdotes about “shedding the changes” …
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I wish no ill on the poor sweet girl. I don’t even really wish them to break up per se, but I wish she’d know her place and step off my husband’s reincarnation. I am not the mistress; she is. I’ll swear to the jury that he was mine first. I’ll stick to my story…
...read more hereYes, yes, I know I’m a day late, but better late than never! Here’s a classic NYC story for you: a few years back, a clash between my parents and my now-ex husband caused us to get put out of their house on Christmas eve night. Actually, only my husband got put out. I was [...]
...read more hereI think it has finally occurred to me that I’m supposed to be single now… except that I’m not entirely certain what “single” means anyhow. Does that mean that any and everyone is fair game, or does it mean that I am fair game? I’m starting to think it’s more the latter than the former. [...]
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He picked me up with his strong arms like I was a feather pillow (oh, let’s be real: I weigh like seven pounds), set me down gingerly on a low mattress and dominated me like a gentleman. There was no wine and no food and he chose to play the Doors of all fucking choices (which explains why the boy can’t sing, come to think of it) but in a moment of wrapping my arms and legs around that body which was so perfect Michelangelo could have sculpted it, I realized that this was exactly what I had wanted, and in fact was what I had wanted for the entirety of my sexual awareness since puberty: a large, gentle, and dominating man.
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I think I’m not ready yet to talk about Saturday and the series of bizarre events that led up to Saturday. It burns the inside of my chest when I think about it. It agitates me. It makes me tense up and pace and it makes my muscles and brain hurt.
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The strange part about it is that he’s walking around the kitchen now as I type this in the adjacent room. I’d say I’m tempted to ask about the aforementioned incidents, but I’m a little nervous that they might be true. If they are, then I don’t know who that stranger is who is claiming to be my father.
...read more hereI had a spectacular post all written out in my head, but by the time I got here I just… I don’t know. It was about my mother. Family drama. Phone calls. Something like that. Maybe I’ll write a reflection on it later this week. As for right now, though, here’s a meme:
...read more hereI came uptown because I wanted tequila. I wanted to drown myself in something sweet and alcoholic. I forewent my yoga lesson. I walked into the building, then changed my mind and walked out of it. I wanted to go home, but I haven’t been home since 2008. I wanted food, and could have stopped by the pizza place on st mark’s, but it almost seemed pointless to eat. I wanted to drink until I passed out.
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I think I didn’t want to see him. I think if I knew he was coming I might not have gone. And that would have been a shame because it was a great fucking jam session. Better than last time. Much better.
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