In my dream I was playing with a baby, making a fuss over her in sing-song and Motherese. She was just a few months old, cute as a button.
“I love you!” I said to the baby, overcome with maternal sentiment and delight.
“I only like you as a friend,” she said.
Archive > September 2007
Bitchy baby
Ugh
I think my blog’s getting pretentious. Wordy. Anyone want to weigh in on this?
I need to figure out how to upload funny pictures of celebrities that I steal from here.
A few generations of hair
When Jennifer brought her two-year-old daughter Harper to the nursing home to visit my grandmother, we pushed the wheelchair into the sunlit center courtyard, wound vacuum in one hand and “Co-Cola” (as they say in Georgia) in the other, and we were all cheered up by watching Harper run from plant to plant and tree [...]
I know I have been absent
I thank everyone who wrote to ask about my grandmother’s health. I thank everyone who commented on my blog, even though I did not respond. I am thankful that my grandma was on the rehab hall of the nursing facility, and not the feces hall, where old men groaned in wheelchairs and ran into my [...]
Poem written in bathroom in the middle of the night
My feet churned the dust like a tornado.
I approached Edinburgh
and then the continent went dark.
The wedding photographer was drunk.
He took pictures of ruins, of history.
An esplanade of smoking sphinxes
and grey coliseums
where we had lived once.
My body was all that was left,
whisking the ashes,
a relic of weather and population.
I can’t make this shit up
A senile platoon of old ladies in wheelchairs sat next to the parking lot of the nursing home, looking for fresh air before their 5 o’clock dinner. Each octogenarian was accompanied by a nursing aide wearing scrubs and smelling like cigarettes. The old woman who looked the worst off was sulking at the group’s periphery, [...]
Sick people make me want to eat junk food
Is that why there are so many pudgy nurses? The more grey heads and wheelchairs I see, the more I crave potato chips.
It has always been our name so deal
They say that the sweetest sound in the English language is one’s own name. I heard a lot of it today. “Wistar, you have no blood vessels in your left leg.” “Wistar, can you eat some fruit cocktail, or do you think you might throw it up?” “Wistar, we’re just going to stick this needle [...]
Between a quirk and a hard place
This article by Michael Hirschorn from the Atlantic Monthly, entitled Quirked Around, could easily be expanded to be an encyclopedic cultural history of the mid-90s to the present. Quirk. The word makes me shudder. The word has caused me to put down many modern novels after a page and a half. And yet quirk is [...]
