well hello there
hello to you, hello to me, hello to the many, thoughts i have enjoyed and neglected to write about in the last few weeks.
starting easily enough, yesterday was exciting. a flashback to my years at princeton when i woke up groggy to my barking alarm clock, knowing i had exactly 45 minutes to pull myself together, swallow back the dry heaves from my newborn hangover, and make it to nj in time for mother's day. oh, poor mother! how i never remember your pretty pink face as i'm doing tequila shots and spiking my coke and eating frosting with my bare hands and otherwise getting shitfaced the night before your big day. poor, poor mother.
i stumbled into penn station and realized what a lousy kid i was as beautiful, thoughtful bouquets paraded by attached to other twenty-somethings also on their way home.
why oh why couldn't i be like them? with no time to buy my ticket and a dasani, i panicked(!!) grabbing the nearest object that most nearly resembled a mother's day gift - a long-stemmed chocolate rose, wrapped in shiny red foil with little plastic leaves that could be artfully shaped to resemble the real...the rea-....the *sob* the tacky, shitty, last-minute mother's day gift i picked up for my darling mother like some asshole.
i boarded the train and was scolded repeatedly by spring-in-the-country flower arrangements wrapped in paper and held gingerly by better children.
tucking the rose under my arm, trying to conceal its garish red glare was no use. my tacky chocolate rose still looked like a bad joke.
i called my mother from the other side of the hudson and started babbling to her all about the chocolate rose and how rotten i was and how i should have gotten up earlier and how absolutely gauche, but would she please drive me to a florist straight from the station - so i could buy her a proper bouquet?
but mother let me off the hook.
she was just happy i'd be coming home to spend some time with her and didn't want a single thing from me.
instead, she bought herself a $10 bag of milk chocolate truffles from Harry & David, which she, my father, and i all shared while waiting for our brunch to be served.
a tasty brunch and an excellent movie and not a dime poorer, i was returned to the junction from whence i came.
happy mother's day.
starting easily enough, yesterday was exciting. a flashback to my years at princeton when i woke up groggy to my barking alarm clock, knowing i had exactly 45 minutes to pull myself together, swallow back the dry heaves from my newborn hangover, and make it to nj in time for mother's day. oh, poor mother! how i never remember your pretty pink face as i'm doing tequila shots and spiking my coke and eating frosting with my bare hands and otherwise getting shitfaced the night before your big day. poor, poor mother.
i stumbled into penn station and realized what a lousy kid i was as beautiful, thoughtful bouquets paraded by attached to other twenty-somethings also on their way home.
why oh why couldn't i be like them? with no time to buy my ticket and a dasani, i panicked(!!) grabbing the nearest object that most nearly resembled a mother's day gift - a long-stemmed chocolate rose, wrapped in shiny red foil with little plastic leaves that could be artfully shaped to resemble the real...the rea-....the *sob* the tacky, shitty, last-minute mother's day gift i picked up for my darling mother like some asshole.
i boarded the train and was scolded repeatedly by spring-in-the-country flower arrangements wrapped in paper and held gingerly by better children.
tucking the rose under my arm, trying to conceal its garish red glare was no use. my tacky chocolate rose still looked like a bad joke.
i called my mother from the other side of the hudson and started babbling to her all about the chocolate rose and how rotten i was and how i should have gotten up earlier and how absolutely gauche, but would she please drive me to a florist straight from the station - so i could buy her a proper bouquet?
but mother let me off the hook.
she was just happy i'd be coming home to spend some time with her and didn't want a single thing from me.
instead, she bought herself a $10 bag of milk chocolate truffles from Harry & David, which she, my father, and i all shared while waiting for our brunch to be served.
a tasty brunch and an excellent movie and not a dime poorer, i was returned to the junction from whence i came.
happy mother's day.