ha ha ha, bless your soul
[shelby and ray's apartment, houston, texas]
i am now in houston. last week, i was in NYC and stayed in south orange with kelly i absolutely love that girl and was glad israel brought us together. we talked about 9-5s, clothes, hezbollah, sex, parents. i met this 40-year-old writer at the conference who is indian and looks about 23. he works at the hospital where i was born in ottawa. i hung out with this 19-year-old guy, rohan, a lot and we bonded over our white brownness. he protected me throughout the weekend from straying taxis and homeless people. i walked around barefoot in hoboken and drank a little too much.
and now here i am in houston. i drove down on sunday, stopped for a brief visit in college station. i haven't seen shelby since my junior year in high school. i walked into her perfectly clean and coordinated apartment that she shares with the mysterious ray, who i'd read about in letters and e-mails but never met until now. he is absolutely adorable--they are absolutely adorable and i am so thankful they found each other.
shelby is one of those women who was never a girl. even in third grade, when i first met her, she had this commanding sense of responsibility. she knew who she was and what she wanted from life. her intelligence is captivating and ray is so sweet, sensible and humble that i truly believe they're perfect.
you walk into their living room and the first thing you notice is their record collection. it's not in crates or on a shelf. it's in a record stand--the kind you see at record and book stores. ray salvaged it from behind a half price books and shelby made him paint it. it's purple and black--like the rest of the room. everything is coordinated--the candles, the incense, the sofa and throw--except the gnomes. shelby's signature gnomes stand out in their green, brown, red and white glory. the kitchen is spotless and organized. the spices are all in their places, a jumble of utensils huddle in a cylindrical holder. every now and then you'll see a carefully arranged tribute to jim morrison or some black and white zombie movie, but it's very tastefully presented. even the fridge has a few simple bags of frozen chicken or popsicles with clothespins keeping them shut.
and then there's the game room. the game room is virtually wall-to-wall books. one wall is 4/5 VHS movies and 1/5 DVDs. shelby and ray still make and listen to mix tapes and have walkmen. walkmen! the three of us reveled at our "vintage" cell phones and i've decided i like my old, clunky circa-1999 phone. it stands out.
if i had to depict houston with one thought it would be the thought of pulling my sunglasses out of my purse, putting them on, only to watch them fog up before my eyes.
i actually really adore houston. i love it because it has no zoning laws and there are porn shops galore with loud exteriors and epilepsy-inducing neon lights that never stop flashing, even at 3 a.m. i love the huge signs and shopping plazas that don't have a common stucco theme. i love seeing the shopping plazas that are made up in matching stucco look ridiculous and pretentious next to the mambo seafood with its flashing lights and red and purple exterior. i think zoning laws are a curse and that they ruin the aesthetic potential of a city. picasso never restricted what colors or shapes could go in certain sections of his paintings.
if new jersey was a city in texas, it would be houston.
i am now in houston. last week, i was in NYC and stayed in south orange with kelly i absolutely love that girl and was glad israel brought us together. we talked about 9-5s, clothes, hezbollah, sex, parents. i met this 40-year-old writer at the conference who is indian and looks about 23. he works at the hospital where i was born in ottawa. i hung out with this 19-year-old guy, rohan, a lot and we bonded over our white brownness. he protected me throughout the weekend from straying taxis and homeless people. i walked around barefoot in hoboken and drank a little too much.
and now here i am in houston. i drove down on sunday, stopped for a brief visit in college station. i haven't seen shelby since my junior year in high school. i walked into her perfectly clean and coordinated apartment that she shares with the mysterious ray, who i'd read about in letters and e-mails but never met until now. he is absolutely adorable--they are absolutely adorable and i am so thankful they found each other.
shelby is one of those women who was never a girl. even in third grade, when i first met her, she had this commanding sense of responsibility. she knew who she was and what she wanted from life. her intelligence is captivating and ray is so sweet, sensible and humble that i truly believe they're perfect.
you walk into their living room and the first thing you notice is their record collection. it's not in crates or on a shelf. it's in a record stand--the kind you see at record and book stores. ray salvaged it from behind a half price books and shelby made him paint it. it's purple and black--like the rest of the room. everything is coordinated--the candles, the incense, the sofa and throw--except the gnomes. shelby's signature gnomes stand out in their green, brown, red and white glory. the kitchen is spotless and organized. the spices are all in their places, a jumble of utensils huddle in a cylindrical holder. every now and then you'll see a carefully arranged tribute to jim morrison or some black and white zombie movie, but it's very tastefully presented. even the fridge has a few simple bags of frozen chicken or popsicles with clothespins keeping them shut.
and then there's the game room. the game room is virtually wall-to-wall books. one wall is 4/5 VHS movies and 1/5 DVDs. shelby and ray still make and listen to mix tapes and have walkmen. walkmen! the three of us reveled at our "vintage" cell phones and i've decided i like my old, clunky circa-1999 phone. it stands out.
if i had to depict houston with one thought it would be the thought of pulling my sunglasses out of my purse, putting them on, only to watch them fog up before my eyes.
i actually really adore houston. i love it because it has no zoning laws and there are porn shops galore with loud exteriors and epilepsy-inducing neon lights that never stop flashing, even at 3 a.m. i love the huge signs and shopping plazas that don't have a common stucco theme. i love seeing the shopping plazas that are made up in matching stucco look ridiculous and pretentious next to the mambo seafood with its flashing lights and red and purple exterior. i think zoning laws are a curse and that they ruin the aesthetic potential of a city. picasso never restricted what colors or shapes could go in certain sections of his paintings.
if new jersey was a city in texas, it would be houston.