I have a new phone, and I can’t seem to figure it out. I think I accidentally took a photo of a woman on the subway platform. She definitely thought I did. I keep hitting something that says, “Voice activation. Speak now.” And then, when I say, “Whoa…Wait…Stop…” It goes, “You have searched for ‘Jeremy,’ by Pearl Jam,” and takes me promptly to youtube, where a video of a live performance awaits. I put it on mute a lot with my chin when I’m talking to people. Sometimes speaker, which is fun when in public and unable to figure out what just happened. I can’t operate the keyboard, so my texts look like, “ho moiim. Hoewez ut goon/?”
There are only two advantages. The photos it takes are really clear, and since it was my brother’s phone before mine, he took a lot of photos on it and then forgot about them. So I get to see what he’s been up to, now that he’s all grown up (eighteen). Apparently, he has gone to some museums and a hip hop concert. They were about equally interesting and a third of the way through the concert, I gave up on combing through blurry shots of people with microphones who I didn’t recognize, and went back to trying to figure out how to change the ring tone to something less raucous and peppy.
So that’s the news from Manhattan, folks. A lot’s been happening here, as you can tell. I got married, and then Bear went back to work and has been working insane hours and apologizing an insane amount for working those hours, and I cleaned the entire apartment in preparation for my writer’s circle meeting, and baked this butternut squash thing. Clearly, this is not a food blog. If it was, you’d see a lot of pictures of English muffins (I’ve been eating them pretty much every day for some reason). But this recipe is so good that I have to share it. My friend Liane made it (with asiago cheese instead of fontina) for my bachelorette party (which you can tell, based on the fact that we ate a homemade butternut squash dish, was pretty wild), and I said things like, “This is literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” And I’ve eaten a lot of pastrami and donuts.
I’m also teaching a class of small Manhattanite children, and I’ve been dying to write about it, but am pretty sure that their powerful parents will have me quietly disposed of if I do. Based on the class, I’ve made some important decisions about my own potential future family, that mostly involve not raising them in Manhattan. Oh no, I’ve said too much…
It took me an incredibly long time to clean the apartment. Between that and the baking, I was starting to imagine myself as Ma from the Little House series. Except that Ma would’ve whipped my fussy urban life into order a lot faster than I was able, especially when she saw the dishwasher. Then she would’ve thrown her head back and laughed uproariously and sputtered, tears of mirth streaming down her face, “Seriously? And you’re still whining? Try living on the prairie, girl. Or even in the big woods.” I think that’s pretty much what she sounded like in the books, anyway. Also, the fact that Ma’s waist was still so tiny that Pa could fit his hands around it sounds suspicious to me, based on how much of that butternut squash thing I just ate. So maybe I’d call her on that if she started up on me.
I also bought some random old tin panels/tiles for the wall. You know, like the kind that used to be on ceilings on incredibly old buildings in the city? It was the first time in my life, I think, that I’ve felt like decorating. I’ve written before on how I definitely don’t feel like it.
I had a dream last night about getting a message that was full of links. Like, every word was linked. And I felt tired, even in my sleep, at the thought of having to click on all of them. But it also made me think that maybe I’ll do some links here, since I am failing at making a point.
Some of my favorite old posts:
Thou Shalt Not Eat. This was one of my very first posts on this blog. You can see me trying to work my degrees in religion into some other aspect of my life. Sigh. One can always hope that her degrees will apply to something, later on.
Getting Shot. Very much to the point. I felt vulnerable, admitting this, but I also knew how horribly true it was.
The Lying Mirror. I love this post because it anticipates my experience with the mirror in the “bridal lair” on my actual wedding day. I’d forgotten about it entirely.
Big City. I like all posts about the city. But this is the first real one.
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Un-roast: Today I love the way I look in casual, loose, understated clothes and a lot of jewelry. I feel, somehow, that it’s a brave look. And so I feel bold and a little scared and slightly empowered when I do it.
P.S. Another link! Here’s a piece about bullying I wrote for Huffpo a while back. As in, like, a few days ago. I kept forgetting to link to it.
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