Friday, September 28, 2012

In the gray

Mother doesn't invite me along to her parties anymore. She dresses up and puts on her make-up behind closed doors, then tries to sneak out so I won't notice. I caught her once in the hallway on a Saturday night. "I'm just going to the movies" she said but the white mink coat, Rouge Allure Luminous Satin lips and telescopic mascara lashes gave her away.

I'm alone tonight. Mother carelessly forgot to hide her invitation to a fundraising event at The Bowery and Chloe is in Chicago with the ad agency. Henry went back to California for the weekend to spend time with his family, and then there's Carl.

Thunderstorms always make me want to call him so he can tell me about the fires, those moments I tried to mimic with him after we met again in the Gauloise haze. I'll climb into bed naked, get under the cold covers and listen to his voice like music in the dark. Sometimes I fall asleep and when I wake up again he's still there on the other end of the line.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Keats and Yeats are on your side

Henry goes to NYU. "Join me in class tomorrow" he says late Sunday night and I wouldn't do it for anyone else. The look on mother's face when I tell her I'm off to school is priceless. They sent me home once in ninth grade for being drunk, I don't think she will ever get over it.

I'm in the back of the auditorium blogging, a blonde row of perfect pony tails lined up in front of me. Sometimes I think I envy them but the truth is I don't. Just like them, my father knew exactly what he wanted in life but ended up in the ground at Oakwood Memorial Park Cemetery.

It's not that I don't believe in having a dream, but if you know what your future is going to look like then what else is there?