Sunday
I woke up very early and hightailed it down to the upper east side to have breakfast with my friend Nina. She is one of my two best friends from high school, tenth grade, and for the past 4½ years she's been living in Hawaii homesteading a piece of land with her husband and building a house. I'm not getting out to Hawaii anytime soon, so I jumped at the chance to see her for an hour or so before she and her brother headed up to Massachusetts to visit their parents for the week. Sunday morning, no traffic, and I made it down there in close to 20 minutes.
It was a short visit, but a good one. 4½ years is a long time to be missing someone, and it was good to see her face again. We even ducked into a doorway and called the third part of our best-friend triad, Leslie, in Vermont, and talked for a while. Nina had to leave by 10:30, so I drove across town and did my grocery shopping for the week and was home by 12.
Funny to be out so early on a Sunday. That's traditionally my day to move slowly, drink coffee and read recipes and answer email and stay in my pajamas as long as it takes. I've always liked Sundays for that reason. I can remember being a little kid and doing pretty much the same thing, minus the coffee and recipes and email but with big stacks of library books and crayons and markers. I didn't like TV all that much even then.
For all the childhood pictures I've been posting, I don't really think much about that time in my life. A lot of people seem to have very clear memories from when they were little, but most of mine are generalized and blurry, with odd details showing up here and there. I do remember spending a lot of time in the back room in our house, though, sitting on the long burnt orange couch with sunlight coming in the wooden blinds, drawing or reading. Time seemed so weirdly elongated then, and feels so collapsed on itself these days. And my, that's certainly an original thought.
This was a good weekend, if tiring. I did a lot of socializing and none of my own work, but that's how it pans out sometimes and it's all necessary in the mix. I did get my pepper and eggplant seedlings in the ground, although they look awfully puny considering how chilly the nights still are. We'll see how that goes.
I would like to point out, though, that in addition to my other good traits already mentioned I am also a superb parallel parker. Seriously, I can get my Blazer into a spot with 24" leeway on either side in about three steps, none of this sawing back and forth shit. I have the touch. For years and years I was terrible at it and one day something literally clicked, and now I can do it every time. What's funny is that this has been since I've had a garage, and I rarely park on the street -- you'd think it'd be one of those things that needs regular practice, but apparently not.
It was a short visit, but a good one. 4½ years is a long time to be missing someone, and it was good to see her face again. We even ducked into a doorway and called the third part of our best-friend triad, Leslie, in Vermont, and talked for a while. Nina had to leave by 10:30, so I drove across town and did my grocery shopping for the week and was home by 12.
Funny to be out so early on a Sunday. That's traditionally my day to move slowly, drink coffee and read recipes and answer email and stay in my pajamas as long as it takes. I've always liked Sundays for that reason. I can remember being a little kid and doing pretty much the same thing, minus the coffee and recipes and email but with big stacks of library books and crayons and markers. I didn't like TV all that much even then.
For all the childhood pictures I've been posting, I don't really think much about that time in my life. A lot of people seem to have very clear memories from when they were little, but most of mine are generalized and blurry, with odd details showing up here and there. I do remember spending a lot of time in the back room in our house, though, sitting on the long burnt orange couch with sunlight coming in the wooden blinds, drawing or reading. Time seemed so weirdly elongated then, and feels so collapsed on itself these days. And my, that's certainly an original thought.This was a good weekend, if tiring. I did a lot of socializing and none of my own work, but that's how it pans out sometimes and it's all necessary in the mix. I did get my pepper and eggplant seedlings in the ground, although they look awfully puny considering how chilly the nights still are. We'll see how that goes.
I would like to point out, though, that in addition to my other good traits already mentioned I am also a superb parallel parker. Seriously, I can get my Blazer into a spot with 24" leeway on either side in about three steps, none of this sawing back and forth shit. I have the touch. For years and years I was terrible at it and one day something literally clicked, and now I can do it every time. What's funny is that this has been since I've had a garage, and I rarely park on the street -- you'd think it'd be one of those things that needs regular practice, but apparently not.
Labels: autobiography, confessional
posted by Lisa at 9:26 PM
1 Comments:
Two things:
Parallel parking is the only thing I failed on my driving test (in 1983), and for years I was pretty bad at it until, as you say, something clicked. I'm not always great at it--just yesterday I found myself being directed by the woman who had just gotten out of the car in front of where I wanted to park--but it's not something I think of as problematic anymore. I would think it's an especially good thing to be good at when you drive a truck.
And I also have weirdly blurry memories of my childhood. I'm known for remembering everything (well, almost), but my good memory seems to start when I was a teenager. My oldest childhood friend's memories of our childhood are so clear, and mine just aren't. Weird.
Post a Comment
<< Home