a small camera that lets me control aperture
a cute denim skirt that’s comfortable
more tradition in my life
less clutter in my kitchen
to make it a practice to share “high” “low” with someone
to stop eating fries with mustard in the middle of the night
flip flops that don’t hurt! I swear, they all hurt. I need fabric ones.
a pair of jeans that aren’t ripped so I can stop hearing about how it’s all I wear
black flats
to let the dermatologist check me for skin cancer
bras without padding
to get a replacement driver’s license
to learn how to spell license
long tank tops
new sneakers (funky ones)
good stuff to work out in that doesn’t make me look like a chunk
to play whale’s tales with my friends, drinking outdoors, getting sloppy
to do more things outdoors at night
to have more picnics
I should be going to the Mermaid Parade in Coney Island right now. Should be on a train. Should because I know I’ll enjoy it; I loved going last year. But there are other shoulds, to do with writing and the gym, my dog, and “need to buy”s. So instead, I’m heading toward the seaport, iced skim latte and camera in tow, to buy things at Abercrombie that I’m too old to be wearing. Then, I will trek back home, grab the laptop and sneakers, hit the gym, then a lawn somewhere to write Chapter 5, “The Oral Sex South Beach Diet.” Followed by airing out the Lineman, then some reading as they razor my feet and polish my toes a creamy white color which will make my feet look tan. I need to pick all my dvds up from Jennifer’s apartment. I lent her a dozen a few months ago, and now, just knowing they’re missing from my collection makes me uneasy. I need them. Need. They’re somehow comfort to me. Knowing they’re there whenever I need them. I have issues.
I know this will sound absurd, but tonight I have 4 parties I rsvp’d yes to. It sounded good at the time, when the evite arrived weeks earlier, when I was working like an animal at work. Oh, an outdoor party, count me in. Sure I’ll come to your going away party. Sounds fun. Then the day comes. There is no way (or desire) I will hit all of them. Bwags Summer Solstice rooftop party, The Italian Job’s housewarming party, a Seattle Send Off Party for an old co-worker of mine at La Cave, and Yasmin’s bon voyage party at 17. No one will miss me at any of these parties. Actually, that’s not true. At Yasmin’s party, I would be missed by Monique, Erin, and Kim. So surely, I will go there. Otherwise, I’d receive a text from Kim, “Lover, I need to see you. Get your ass here now.” I love my friends. I need my friends.
View more of the photos from my afternoon at South Street Seaport >>
