Here’s another edition of a day in the life. Sunday. Wake up to learn that Rocky has been walked by Sam The Boyfriend. That is a treat. On a Sunday? To get another few moments of sleep? That’s a gift to a woman who has it all on her shoulders. I’m feeling infinitely better, the remnants of the cold relegated to a lot of nose-blowing and a lingering cough, but the fatigue is gone, gone, gone. Watch another episode of Broadchurch. Breakfast (berries & cream, sunnyside up for the Teenager) prepared also by Sam The Boyfriend. At 11am, a mad rush out of the apartment as The Teenager has a podcast, Regretsville, to record and she’s suddenly ready, while the adults are clearly not. Things are forgotten, of course. Once in the Via (car-share, try it!), it turns out that not only did I forget a bottle of water, but I’ve managed to grab a pair of sweatpants, why, I have no idea, maybe I thought it was a scarf? It’s just me and The Teenager now. I like the Via, by the way. There’s a woman in the car, speaking on the phone, her Lawng Island accent so distinct and, in this case, high-pitched. She thankfully in Grammercy Park. We arrive at our destination with plenty of time for me to listen to The Teenager pitch living with a family in Italy for the summer, another in a long list of traveling-the-world ideas for her big adventure before she goes to college. I listen half-heartedly, calculating how much this latest idea will cost. Everything costs something. Maybe I’ll sell my beloved camera to pay for it, I have no idea. I also have to worry about health insurance. So that. The recording of the podcast is smooth sailing, the hosts, Tracy Soren and Jesise Jolles, witty and personable, my favorite combination. We take a Via back to the city. I have twelve thousand errands to run. I head to Staples, get copies of The Teenager’s school-related things. I head to Zabar’s, get The Teenager’s lunch supplies. I head to the pet store, get Rocky booties for the snow. I head, I head, I head. So many things need to be picked up or dropped off or dealt with, on my Sunday. I am already running out of time. I text Sia and let her know I will not make the memorial of a legend we once knew, in the 90’s. I just won’t be able to fit everything in. I get back to my apartment at 3, and my dear friend Kris is waiting for me. I love when he visits. During Hurricane Sandy, he stayed with us, as he lived right in the storm zone, the power outage fully realized in his neighborhood. He is our very dear friend, and we are very comfortable with him and before I know it, it’s 5. He leaves. The Teenager and I walk over to her best friend Kaia’s house, with Rocky. Kaia’s just returned from her first semester abroad at University. It’s a huge moment for them, to be reunited. The girls get lost in one of the bedrooms, and I sit down with Kaia’s Mom, Maren, who is another one of my closest female friends. We are all here to do our traditional trimming of the Christmas tree. In years past, Maren’s three daughters and my Teenager would decorate the tree, and then Kaia and The Teenager would sleep beneath it. As it’s a Sunday, there will not be a sleepover, but fun will be had. I leave before they begin decorating, I have to go meet Sam The Boyfriend at 47th street to see a production of The Children. And so, my evening begins, my Sunday now another part of a lovely weekend past.
Pauline Porizkova: “I now have no choice but to pull the word “feminist” out of the dusty drawer and polish it up.”
Chirlane McCray: “We all know what to do if someone is bleeding, if somebody fractures a body part. But we don’t know what to do if someone has a panic attack or someone is suffering from depression. These are everyday skills that everyone should have.”
Lori Carter: “There’s still so much I don’t know about technology. I just learned what I had to learn in order to do the things I wanted and needed to do.”
And now there’s a connection with birth control pills protecting against cancer!
This week’s asshole is Mario Batali. Who, to his credit, is like, Yep.
Can you remember last year’s word of the year? No? Me either. This year though. It’s the F-word.
This vibrator from Tokidoki is everything.
Do you play cards? Then you need this deck of the WOMEN cards. (Ace: Hillary Clinton/King: Shirley Chisholm/Queen: Eleanor Roosevelt/Jack: Sacagawea/10: Sylvia Rivera/9. Patsy Mink/8. Sojourner Truth/7. Mary Cassatt /6. Susan B. Anthony/5. Wilma Rudolph /4. Rosa Parks /3. Gertrude Stein/2. Cecilia Payne/Big Joker: Lucille Ball/Small Joker: Phyllis Diller)
And now have a laugh with Dulce Sloan.
0 Comments