Yesterday I was returning home from a long walk with Charlie. I turned off the main drag to head up the alley that runs behind our house so I could deposit his bag of party favors in the trash can out back. I have this thing for alleys - these weird, liminal spaces that aren't intended for foot traffic, really, but who cares? You never know what you might find - interesting compositions of garbage, expertly-rendered graffiti, stray cats. Yesterday, the alley gave me the most wonderful gift.
A few paces in, I looked up and saw a woman sitting cross-legged on a pile of dirt, her back up against the wall of this abandoned mechanic's garage. She sat there twisting her long, brown hair into a braid as if it was the most natural thing to be doing at 10 in the morning on a Saturday.
She could have been 25 or 45 - she had one of those ambiguously-aged faces you sometimes see as the 'after' photo on a meth PSA. Not wanting to be rude, I nodded to her and said good morning as Charlie and I passed by her earthen perch.
She called back to me in response, "Them the new in-style glasses?" To which I replied, "Uh, what?"
"You know. The in-style glasses - you see er'body wearin' 'em," she informed me, her remaining teeth looking like so many yellowed piano keys.
"I guess so, then."
"You know, it's like, 'steada the new iPhone or money in your pocket, people be buyin' these glasses."
"Well, I'd be blind without these, so uh, there's that. Have a good one," I said, pulling Charlie away from the discarded take-out container he was sniffing.
As I picked up the pace to put distance between us and this oracle of fashion and discretionary spending, she called out, "That's what they all say, but I don't think I much believe 'em."
What a rich tapestry life is. What a fascinating, weird thing. You can be walking your dog, minding your own business one minute, in in the next, a stranger braiding her hair on a pile of dirt questions your sartorial choices, spending habits, and ocular health all in one fell swoop.
Speaking of things that make you question the world and your place in it - here's some shit I read on the internet in the past 7 days!
Tell it, Cory. It's not normal, and Amy Clowney Butthole is the worst kind of conservative christian - she acts all nicey on the surface but she uses language like 'sexual preference',' which is almost certainly not a mere slip-up, but rather deliberate and coded language used by those who would be quick to take away gay rights on the basis of believing that your sexual orientation is a matter of choice.
I didn't watch the town hall, I just couldn't, but I'm proud of the thrashing Savannah Guthrie dished out.
Cool idea, guys. Actually this might have been the only reassuring thing I've read all week. I was ready to throw myself on the middle-age bonfire and just burn my irrelevant body to a crisp but it seems I still have a couple youthful tricks up my sleeve.
What are we doing for the holidays this year? I know for me, Thanksgiving is a hard no because of my work situation, but Christmas is more of a gray area. I'm not sure if I find these suggestions and mathematical breakdowns of risk to be encouraging or horrifying.
Uh-duh. I feel judged and pitied and pressured and guilty ALL THE TIME. I'm including this whole paragraph because IT ME:
In our society, the consistent message is that if you opt not to have children, your life is less meaningful. To become a parent is the norm, and anything else is a deviation from that norm. In a study conducted by Dr. Leslie Ashburn-Nardo, participants reported significantly greater feelings of moral outrage―including anger, disgust, and disapproval―toward voluntarily child-free people. At the same time, child-free people were consistently viewed as being less personally fulfilled than those with children. According to Dr. Ashburn-Nardo, perceiving child-free people as less fulfilled acts as a way of “punishing” them for violating what’s often considered to be both a social norm and a moral imperative.
Analog Reading:
Just finished Our Lady of Perpetual Hunger by Lisa Donovan. I loved it so much, in no small part because she's a Nashvillian and it's wild to read a book that takes place largely in your literal backyard. Then I found her Instagram and discovered that we are practically neighbors, in that I am certain I have run/biked/walked by her house multiple times before.
Picked up Lightness by Emily Temple again. I'm sure I'll enjoy it, but it's off to a slow start for me, maybe just because it's hard for me to concentrate on fiction these days.
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