Because These Timelines Are Getting Kind Of Heavy
Do you know what I have been enjoying lately?
Do you know what I have been enjoying lately?
I was pleased to discover that the Democratic debate was a lot more civil this time around. It must have been because I was feeling a little emotionally, uh, fragile when I watched the last one two weeks ago, but it was all I could do back then not to curl up in a ball on the end of the sofa, stick my fingers in my ears, and beg them to PLEASE JUST STOP SHOUTING AT EACH OTHER!
1. While out shopping with my sister in Singapore last month, I had to ask her if a certain item of clothing I was debating trying on was supposed to be a top or a dress. I was disproportionately relieved when she revealed it was a top.
So my cat Charlie is stressed. No really, that's what the vet told us yesterday when we took him to see her---I'll tell you why we took him to see her in a minute---after looking him up and down for a few minutes and stroking his fur. "He's just stressed," she said. "And, you know, he's also kind of overweight." Stressed and overweight, eh? Welcome to America, Charlie. Welcome to life.
My mother is not going to want to hear this, and would probably appreciate that I just didn't tell her about these sorts of things, but last night I intercepted a cracked-out homeless woman trying to get inside the lobby of my apartment building.
I haven't quite decided yet whether a blog is supposed to be a collection of moving and sensitive and humorous personal essays, each of them singular and separate from the next, or whether it's more like that one long email you send to a friend you haven't spoken to in ages, chock-full of updates and apologies for not having written back sooner.
Last night I had a few of my friends over for an evening we started calling Girls Night---and then immediately stopped calling Girls Night, because of the twee images it conjured of women sitting around in their pajamas, braiding each other's hair while half-watching Bridget Jones and talking about how to find a man. Our Girls Night featured none of those things, thank god, but it did feature gossip and bourbon.
Despite having been together for ninety kajillion years, Sean and I have never spent Christmas together. Don't get too excited, we're not spending this Christmas together either---I'll be in Singapore with my family, he'll be in Connecticut with his---but we have, this year, finally taken part in the time-honored ritual of lovey-dovey couples everywhere: choosing and decorating a tree.
I'm never flying again. No, really, never. Well, apart from three weeks from now when I go back to Singapore for Christmas, and then 10 days after that when I go to Vietnam with my mother and brother, but after that, I'm never flying again.
I had dinner with an old friend on Wednesday night, and when I say old, I mean very, very old: Beth and I met on our first day of boarding school when we were both 11 and our beds were opposite each other in our ten-person dormitory. She had posters of horses on the wall; I had a poster of Chesney Hawkes. After lights out, we'd both flop down to the bottom of our beds, prop ourselves up on our elbows and talk.