Maybe We've Lived Here Too Long

She used to work here
And I used to work there
And that was our good standing

Left on a ledge
In the middle of a Fall
19-ninety-something

What do I remember?
Why is that so hard to ask?

I'm convinced I know it all
But my heart's so big
And my life's so small

Things get lost
Things get lost

All I know is who moved where last year
And who broke up
And who got caught

Who turned forty
Who died young

All the people
I don't talk to anymore

Maybe we've lived here too long
When nostalgia's our only blanket

Maybe we're too damn sentimental
When we cry at funny movies

'Cause this one reminds us of this one
Reminds us of this one
Reminds us of that one
Reminds me of this one

Fire escapes were patios
And packing crates were sofas

A lot of broke folks
And knock knock jokes

Then along came cold December

Oh I'm sorry you can't live here
Nobody's lived here for a million years

You gotta go
I don't know where

Where do we keep the young these days?
In a glass half full
Or a broken maze?

I remember when
Time would fix us

I remember when
Time could heal things

I remember when
Give it six months
And it'll go away
And nothing else will happen

Nothing else will happen

You can stay in stasis mode
Watch your tv
Eat mac and cheese
Mom and Dad'll take care of me

Your favorite show has
Pretty people

The angst was all that you could take
Your bed was all that you could make

You caved and left for
San Francisco

Maybe we're just old...
     Shoulda got cancelled awhile ago
Maybe we can't see...
     Our parents said the same damn thing themselves
Maybe  we can't stay...
    Much as we want to, much as we want to

I miss my old corduroy overalls
And my stupid job
And my favorite girls

The down-the-street kind
That'd always visit

Maybe we're fine
Maybe we're tough
Maybe it's right to stick it out

Or maybe we've lived here
Too long

Our Friggin' Christmas Photo

Another year
Another friggin' family Christmas photo

Bennyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

Get your finger out of your nose

We're sending this to all the relatives
Who have more money than we do

You want them to think you're stupid
Like your Uncle Stu
Who dressed up like Santa
Then went down the wrong chimney

The Tanenberg's daughter
Is still in therapy because of that

Put on the santa hat I bought you

And the elf ears
And the little pointy shoes
And get that sign around your neck that says--

'I Have the Best Mother in the World'

You know how many rhinestones it took
To make that sign?

Excuse me, Mr. Photographer
But could you use one of those mild-angle lens?
I've been doing a lot of stress-eating this month
And I don't want it to show

I put in the family newsletter
That I'm back to my goal weight
Of 103
But that was after the flu
And before Benny's big role
In his school play--

'Frosty Goes to Washington'

He played a wheat lobbyist
And we had to do a lot of character work
Involving bagels

Bennyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

Stop picking your teeth
With your elf ear!
That's not what it's for!

I have toothpicks in my purse
Next to the taser
Under the copy of Us Weekly
Use those

You know what, Mr. Photographer?

I don't even know why I bother
Getting this picture done every year
It just makes me want to slap everybody
And then go eat a plate of cream cheese

Sure, sure, I'll look at the one you just took
But I know my eyes were closed in that one and I...

...Ohhh look how nice everybody looks

And Benny, he's getting so big

He must have grown a whole foot since last year's photo

You know, I get all friggin' crazy
Every year
Dressing everybody up
And snapping pictures
And making sure the house is clean
So that when my mother-in-law shows up
She doesn't ask me if I want to be submitted to that show 'Hoarders'

And I forget that it's not about how things look
It's about how everybody feels

Making sure everybody's happy and safe and comfortable
And loved, you know?

Aw, geez
Now I'm all teared up
Look what you did

Tell you what
Give me the Gold package
I want as many photos of this as possible

You can't put a price on family
They're precious and--

Bennyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy stop poking your sister with your elf shoe!

God, who knows how many more years
I'm going to get to say that?

It's Still Christmas, Tony Hooper

Hi, my name is Tony Hooper
And this is my report
About Christmas 2012 entitled--

"A Hard Year to Celebrate"

or

"It's Still Christmas, Dammit"

Please excuse my English

I guess I'm supposed to say 'Excuse my French'
But I know what 'Dammit' means
So it can't be in French

First of all, this has been a real tough year for a lot of people

Lots of fighting and bullying and name-calling
And that's just the elections!

(Harry!  Hit the drum!  Hit the drum, Harry!  Ugh, never mind)

But seriously, folks
Things seem pretty bad nowadays
And so a lot of people I know
Just aren't in the Christmas spirit

That's my first of all

Second of all, my friend Fat Pants said that he doesn't even want to celebrate Christmas this year
Because his dad doesn't have a job anymore
So he won't be getting as many presents as last year

Then my friend Tony Mars said his grandma is real sick
So he doesn't feel like celebrating

My friend Faith's parents are fighting for her custard
Right now her mom only gets half the custard
And her dad wants the other half
I don't know how much custard they're letting Faith have
But you'd think the grown-ups would learn to do what's best for the kid

Faith said, 'Why should we celebrate Christmas?  Christmas is for happy people.'

But I stood up and said 'That's not true at all!'

I probably should have waited until the math test was over
But some things are more important than fractions

I asked the teacher if I could take everyone on an impromptu field trip
And because our fifth grade teacher has been kind of sad
What with everything going on in the world
He said, 'Sure, why not?'

So I took the whole class to the library
And asked for a book about Christmas

I found what I was looking for in the first few pages:

A picture of the manger scene
With Jesus and Mary and the wise men
And that cow who always looks bored

'Listen everybody,' I said, 'I'm not much of a historian, and my parents only take me to church when the lottery's over twenty million and my mom's bought a box full of tickets, but I do know this:  This picture doesn't have a bunch of happy people in it.  These people aren't winners.  They're not cool.  They're poor and they're tired and they're stuck in some barn and now they have a baby to take care of and he's supposed to be God's kid but nobody really believes that except the three guys who brought gifts you can't even eat because they think some angel told them so andisitjustmeordoesthatcowlookreallybored?'

Sorry, sometimes I get distracted

'Christmas isn't about celebrating how rich you are or how everything's going great for you or how amazing the whole year's been.  Christmas is about looking around and saying "Things'll get better" or "At least I have what I have" or "This hay is actually sort of comfortable as long as you stack it right."  It's not about this year.  It's about next year.  About all the great things that could happen.  That's why, no matter what's going on in the world, you can always celebrate Christmas.  Because it's all about what's possible.'

When we got back to the classroom
To finish our math tests
My teacher called me up to the front of the room
And wrote an 'A' on my math test

'Mr. McStevens,' I said, 'I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but I'm pretty sure I didn't get an "A" on this test.'

My teacher looked around the room
To make sure nobody was listening
And then he said--

'The "A" is because you're awesome, Tony Hooper.  Merry Christmas'

And that's how I aced my fractions test
And if that isn't a Christmas miracle
I don't know what is

Let's Associate

Tom
Laura

--  A bedroom .  They sit on the bed, cross-legged, facing each other. --

Laura:  You're doing it wrong.

Tom:  How do you know?

Laura:  You're thinking about it.

Tom:  Yeah, so?

Laura:  You're not supposed to think.

Tom:  You have to think.

Laura:  Not that much.

Tom:  How much are you supposed to think.

Laura:  Just enough to get the word.  Let your self-conscious do the work.

Tom:  And what do we learn from this?

Laura:  Things.  We learn things.  Deep, subconscious things that we'd never learn if we, you know--

Tom:  Talked like normal human beings?

Laura:  Exactly.

Tom:  Okay.  Fine.

Laura:  You ready?

Tom:  Ready.

Laura:  Walnut.

Tom:  What?

Laura:  Walnut.

Tom:  Laura--

Laura:  What?

Tom:  Walnut?

Laura:  Yeah, walnut.

Tom:  What am I supposed to do with walnut?

Laura:  It's not a toy, Tom.  You don't play with it.  You respond to it.  It's a word.

Tom:  Walnut?

Laura:  Well, now I have to pick another one because you've been thinking--

Tom:  No, I want to do walnut.  You gave me walnut.  Let me do that one before you give me another one.

Laura:  Okay, fine--walnut.

Tom:  Allergy.

Laura:  Oh my God.

Tom:  What?

Laura:  You have a nut allergy.

Tom:  Exactly.

Laura:  So don't say allergy because you have a nut allergy.  A walnut isn't even a nut.

Tom:  It isn't?

Laura:  No.

Tom:  I think it is.

Laura:  It's a--a--something else.

Tom:  You're thinking of a pecan.

Laura:  No, I think a pecan IS a nut.

Tom:  But a walnut isn't?

Laura:  That's why it's so--okay, too much.  Too much thinking.

Tom:  I wasn't think.  You said 'nut,' I said 'allergy.'

Laura:  Try to disassociate.

Tom:  Disassociate?

Laura:  So that you can come up with something interesting.

Tom:  But we're doing word associations.

Laura:  But I'm trying to learn new things about you.  I already know you're allergic to nuts.

Tom:  Fine.  Give me another one.

Laura:  Brisbane.

Tom: What?

Laura:  Sorry.

Tom:  Isn't that in Australia?

Laura:  I wasn't thinking.

Tom:  So you were doing it right?

Laura:  No.

Tom:  You were doing it right and you came up with Brisbane?

Laura:  No, I was doing it wrong.  I'm supposed to think.  You're not supposed to think.

Tom:  Well, let me give you a word then.  I'm better at thinking.

Laura:  You can give me a word after you do it right.

Tom:  Well, why don't you demonstrate to me how to do it right?

Laura:  Okay, give me a word.

Tom:  Pop.

Laura:  No.

Tom:  'No''s your word?

Laura:  No, I mean, give me another word.  'Pop' is stupid.

Tom:  Why is it stupid?

Laura:  What am I going to do with 'pop?'

Tom:  What was I supposed to do with 'walnut?'

Laura:  Never mind.  Just give me another one.

Tom:  No, do 'pop' then I'll give you another one.

Laura:  Fine.

Tom:  Pop.

Laura:  Stupid.

Tom:  No--

Laura:  That's my word.  Stupid.  I hear 'pop' and the first thing I think of is 'stupid.'

Tom:  I don't want to play anymore.

Laura:  We're not playing.  This is a deep, personal, psychological exercise.  Now give me another word.

Tom:  Snap.

Laura:  Stupid.

Tom:  Ugh!

Laura:  One more!

Tom:  Melbourne!

Laura:  I give up.

The End

Why I Need an Assistant

--  Taylor's Office  --

Taylor, thirty-something female writer
Scott, twenty-something unemployed male

Taylor:  ...Which is why it's really crucial I get an assistant before the new year.

Scott:  So, I'm sorry, but--I'm sort of--I haven't been around in awhile.  I just did this graduate work overseas in Korea so--

Taylor:  Which one?

Scott:  I'm sorry?

Taylor:  Which Korea?

Scott:  Oh--South Korea.  Obviously not North Korea.  I don't think they even let people into North Korea.

Taylor:  Is there anything to write about in South Korea?

Scott:  Well, yes, things do happen in South Korea.

Taylor:  See, this is why I need an assistant.  I'm totally out-of-the-loop.  I had no idea South Korea was worth visiting.

Scott:  Well, it is if you happen to be studying South Korean infrastructures--

Taylor:  I don't even know what an infrastructure is!  My God, it's like you were sent here just for me!

Scott:  Sent here to--

Taylor:  Be my assistant!  My primary assistant anyway.  I'm sure I'm going to need another one for the three hours a day you're not able to be around.

Scott:  I'm sorry--You're looking to hire someone twenty-one hours a day?

Taylor:  Well, I'd prefer twenty-two, but I know people have to eat.

Scott:  What I was getting around to asking you was--What exactly have you done?

Taylor:  Done?

Scott:  To, you know, merit getting an assistant.  Like I said, I haven't been around and--

Taylor:  Oh!  Of course!  How refreshing!  That you don't know, I mean.  Haha I wrote a book.

Scott:  ...Okay.

Taylor:  It won an award.

Scott:  ...Okay.

Taylor:  And now I need an assistant.

(A beat.)

Scott:  Have you...written any other books?

Taylor:  No--well, not yet.  I'm thinking about Napoleon.

Scott:  You're going to write a book about Napoleon?

Taylor:  No, but I'm thinking about him.  My next book will probably be about my mother dying of a terminal disease.  But she doesn't have a terminal disease yet, so I'm just sort of waiting on that.  I keep telling her to stop eating potatoes.

Scott:  I don't--

Taylor:  Cancer--preventative--something.  The point is, I need help.  I can barely form sentences anymore.  Pretty soon I'm going to have to start writing poetry!

Scott:  What exactly would your assistant do?  Answer phones?

Taylor:  Well, yes, but--there's just one phone.  My phone.  You'd be answering my phone.

Scott:  Like your personal phone?  Like a cell phone?

Taylor:  Exactly.  I've written a book and it's won an award.  It's very important that I'm never heard speaking on a phone again.

Scott:  Wouldn't it be easier to just put a phone at my desk?

Taylor:  Oh, you're not going to have a desk!  Haha I mean where would I put it?  I only have a one-bedroom apartment.

Scott:  You mean this isn't your office?

Taylor:  Nooo this is the law office of the guy who broke up with me yesterday.  I stole his keys in a moment of passion.  Us crazy artists haha we probably shouldn't stay here too long.

Scott:  You stole keys to a law office?  That's crazy!

Taylor:  See!  This is why it's vital that I hire you!  I need someone to save me from myself.

Scott:  Then get a therapist or a life coach or a friend!

Taylor:  I have all of those!  Well, not the last one--not friends--at least, none whose husbands I haven't slept with.

Scott:  Oh God.

Taylor:  But my therapist won't make me coffee and my life coach won't make reservations for me at Le Dunne and my sister won't take credit for slashing my ex-boyfriend's tires--

Scott:  The lawer?

Taylor:  No, another one.

Scott:  Ah.

Taylor:  And none of my friends will write my next book for me.

Scott:  Uh, I don't think you're going to be able to find an assistant willing to write an entire book for me, let alone give you credit for whatever they come up with.

Taylor:  What if it was just a short story?  Just something I can send to the New Yorker to tide everybody over until my mother comes down with malaria.

Scott:  Look, I don't feel entirely comfortable saying this to you because I'm pretty sure you're unstable and might kill me, but...I don't think you need an assistant.

Taylor:  Maybe I wasn't clear before--I wrote a book.

Scott:  I understand that.

Taylor:  It was a big book too.  It was well over eighty pages.

Scott:  How many pages was it?

Taylor:  Eighty-seven.

Scott:  That's not really 'well over' eighty, and it's also not a book.  It's a novella.

Taylor:  Wait, there's a difference between a novel and a novella?

Scott:  Yes, that's why they use different words to--

Taylor:  THIS IS WHY I NEED YOU!

Scott:  What award did they give you?

Taylor:  Oh, I don't like to go around bragging, but I will say it was given to me at a private function where roast duck was served and John Updike was one of the presenters.

Scott:  John Updike's dead.

Taylor:  Then maybe it was Norman Mailer.

Scott:  He's dead too.

Taylor: John Irving?

Scott:  He's still alive.

Taylor:  Then let's go with him.

Scott:  Look, even writing a book and winning an award for it doesn't necessitate an assistant.

Taylor:  But if you work with me I'll help you write your book about South Korea!  The intrigue, the romance, the orphans!

Scott:  What orphans?

Taylor:  Scott, this could be your chance.  You could be the next me!

Scott:  But you're nobody!

Taylor:  But one day I'll be somebody and when I am, I will graciously step to the side and allow you to be almost as good as me.

Scott:  I'm leaving.

Taylor:  That's a good idea.  Elliot's maid must have found him tied to the bed by now.

Scott:  What?

Taylor:  You don't happen to own a car, do you?  I hate taking the subway at this time of day.

Scott:  Just out of curiosity, what was your book about?

Taylor:  It was sort of an autobiography about my childhood.  How I became who I am today.

Scott:  Well, believe it or not, that's actually something I'd be interested in reading.

The End

Molly Gets Fired

--  An office  --

Gerald, The Boss
Molly, The Employee

Molly:  I just don't understand this.

Gerald:  I'm so sorry, Molly.

Molly:  But you begged me to take this job.

Gerald:  I know.  I know I did.

Molly:  I mean, you actually begged me, Gerald.

Gerald:  Mr. Bronson.

Molly:  What?

Gerald:  I--

Molly:  Oh.  Oh!  No!  I'm not calling you Mr. Bronson!  You're not letting me keep my job.  Can I keep my job?

Gerald:  No.

Molly:  Then you're Gerald.

Gerald:  Fair enough.

Molly:  Unless you change your mind.

Gerald:  That's not going to happen.

Molly:  Gerald, you got on your knees.

Gerald:  I know.

Molly:  You were on your knees begging me to take this job.  Do you remember that?

Gerald:  Of course I remember it.  I remember it like it was yesterday.

Molly:  It was yesterday, Gerald.  You hired me yesterday.

Gerald:  But doesn't that seem like such a long time ago now, Molly?

Molly:  Not really, Gerald.  I haven't even unpacked at my desk yet.  I don't even know where the break room is.

Gerald:  It's better you don't see it.  I'd hate for you to emotionally invest.

Molly:  How can this be happening?

Gerald:  Well, Molly, it turns out you're incompetent.

Molly:  What?

Gerald:  You're absolutely wrong for this job.  It couldn't be more clear.

Molly:  But you hired me!

Gerald:  It was much clearer today than it was yesterday.  Yesterday was a dark time for this company.

Molly:  I know!  That's why you said you needed me!  You said I was a light that could guide the company out of the darkness!

Gerald:  I couldn't have been more wrong.

Molly:  Does that mean somebody's firing you?

Gerald:  No, I'd have to fire me.

Molly:  And do you plan on doing that?

Gerald:  I'm going to give it a few days.  I'd hate to do anything rash.

Molly:  But you're firing me!

Gerald:  Molly, we have to stop the bleeding.  You're like an open wound.  Somebody needs to shove salt in you.

Molly:  Shoving salt into a wound only makes it worse!

Gerald:  You can probably see why I hired you.  I'm very bad at identifying effective solutions.

Molly:  THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T BE IN CHARGE OF HIRING PEOPLE!

Gerald:  But I hired me!  And look how well I'm working out!

Molly:  So what am I supposed to do now?

Gerald:  I think it would be for the best if you just pretended you were never here.  I know that's what we're going to do.  Our studies show that a good number of people on your floor called out sick yesterday, and we're certain we can convince the other people that you were just a mirage.

Molly:  I just can't believe that between yesterday and today you've gone from thinking I was a savior to thinking I'm completely worthless.

Gerald:  Molly, I'm going to share something with you.  Something personal.  I'm currently on a lot of drugs--all prescription, legal, mostly, but still--I go in and out of what you might call--hazes.  It's possible I was in one when I hired you and begged you on my knees to come work for this company.  It's also possible I just wanted to sleep with you and now that I know you're married that seems so unlikely that I sort of just want you to go away.

Molly:  I could sue you for this.

Gerald:  Hahaha you wouldn't be the first.

Molly:  How did those lawsuits work out?

Gerald:  We, as a company, feel that if we just don't go to court, it'll all go away.

Molly:  That's an awful idea.

Gerald:  As I said, Molly, we're not the best with problem-solving.

Molly:  Maybe it's better I'm being fired.

Gerald:  There you go, Molly!  Already looking on the bright side!  With an attitude like that, I'm sorry I have let you go.

Molly:  But you still are, right?

Gerald:  Right.  But try me again tomorrow.  Who knows how I'll be feeling then.

(The End)

He'll Have a New Girl Tomorrow

What you have to understand about that guy
Is that he'll have a new girl tomorrow
If you take off

Not because he's attractive
But because he's a man
And there's always a woman for a man
And the reverse is not always true
And that's just something to consider

Because you're going to be all tied up in knots
When you think you've got the upper hand
And you find out somebody new's already moving in
To your old place

If you're going to make this about winning
I'm just letting you know
You're not going to win
Not unless you have some boy waiting in the wings
Ready to replace this one

If this is one of those break-ups
Where you're just trying to find yourself
And learn who you are without a man
Then good for you
But just know that he's not going to be doing the same

Once a man gets used to not having to iron
He's never going to iron
And he'll marry anything with a pulse
If she agrees to get the wrinkles out of his shirt
Every morning

You can't get upset about that kind of thing
It's just how men are
They're not resilient
They can't survive on their own

So God made sure that there would always be a woman there
Ready to swoop in and save a man from drowning

What you have to know is that he didn't make things the same way for us
Because we don't need anybody to save us
Because we're not drowning

Honey, if you walked out
Then that means some part of you was saying
You could swim if you could only kick the flailing guy off of you
So don't look back when some poor girl
Decides it's her time
To be the human life preserver and--

Dammit, now I'm all lost in the metaphor

Look, tomorrow he may wake up
And try ironing his own damn shirts
Or he may just go out
And find another version of you
To do it for him
And the important thing to remember is
It has nothing to do with you

From this moment on
The life of someone else
This life you shared with them?

That's over

You're on your own now

So he may have somebody else
But who cares, right?

Because it's not a contest
It's not about who finds someone else first
Or who gets to be happy first
And when they get there
Just how happy are they?

Doesn't matter at all

All that matters is
Remembering why you left
And feeling good knowing maybe you made it a little easier
For the next person who comes along

The Stolen Bike

You get your bike stolen
And suddenly your whole world view changes

Suddenly being eight-years-old
Is the same thing
As carrying all the weight of the world
Up on your shoulders

All I can think about is some other eight-year-old
Riding around on the red bike
That's rightfully mine
That I rightfully earned
By whining for a solid five hours one weekend
Until my mom broke down
And took me to the store
Right before it closed on Sunday night

I took the next two days out of school
Claiming botulism
And learned how to ride that bike all by myself
Using nothing but determination
And instructional Youtube videos

Then, after days of riding that bike after school
I connected to that inanimate object in a way
That only a Buddhist
Or a pure materialist could understand

The bike and I became one

I told my Dad about that
And he called me Peter Fonda
And I googled him
But all I know is that he was on drugs
So I think my Dad was saying 'Don't do drugs
Just keep riding that bike'
And now I can't
And that doesn't mean I'm going to do drugs
But one day I might
Because I'm now hardened to the world at large

I'd like to say that when I find out who did this
I'll forgive them
But first I'll probably have to beat them up a lot
And then show them mercy
And then beat them up some more
And then forgive them

Rage isn't something you can just throw away
Like the plastic baggie full of carrots
Your mom puts in your lunchbox

It grows on you like hair and mushrooms
And then you have to either cut it off or bury it in the mashed potatoes
And hope nobody notices

I miss that bike
The day it was taken
I lost a part of myself
The part that really liked
Having a bike

I may get that bike back
And I may like having it back
And then it might seem like everything's cool again

But in the back of my mind
I'll always remember this feeling right now
How mad and upset I am
And how I'm probably never going to see my bike again
And that means five more hours of whining
So I can get my Mom to bring me to the store
Before it closes

And it'll be hard to move on from all this

It's going to be something
I may never get over

A Theoretical Physicist Leaves His Wife

Technically I left you four years ago
And technically we never met at all
And technically we lasted our entire marriage
Without so much as a fight or squabble

And technically we had kids
And technically we didn't
And technically I still love you
Even though that's one of the possibilities
That doesn't hold as much possibility
As all the other...possibilities

I'm leaving you, Miranda

If it gives you any comfort
Know that somewhere
A version of me
Is not leaving you

Know that somewhere
Two versions of ourselves
Have managed to make work
What we have failed so miserably at

Optimism, I find, lies solely in imagining scenarios
That may or may not exist
On another timeline
Similar to our own

So when I say sometimes
I really mean 'some times'
As in 'Some times we had kids'
And some times they're good kids
And some times they're awful
And some times when they're good it has nothing to do with us
And some times when they're bad it has everything to do with us
And how unhappy we are

And some times we have pets instead
We're pet people
And we're happy about it
And some times we're not happy about it
And some times we're people who sit on separate chairs
In the same room
With a couch between us
That we never even think of using

And some times I'm the man you married forever
And some times I was never the man you married
And some times it's my fault
And some times it's yours
But no matter who's fault it is
It still feels the same

Isn't that funny?
Or not funny?
Or just...

Some times we never even meet
We never marry
And we go on to do great things
And become great people

And some times we marry other people
Who treat us better or worse
And some times we die alone
Wishing we could have met someone
Anyone
And those are sad times
The worst times, actually

Some times I'm brave and I leave you sooner
Some times you leave me
Some times we hate each other and we sleep on expensive sheets
And some times we love each other and we sleep on the floor

Some times I lie awake next to you at night
And imagine a situation
Where I could be holding you
As we lay in this bed
But try as I might

I can't

I can't even imagine it

When you're a theoretical physicist
And you can't even imagine
Holding your wife
Your marriage has, I'm afraid
Reached a crosswords

It was easier for me to imagine us as moonwalkers
Inhabiting a desolate landscape
Living in a pod, eating vaporized ice cream
Giving birth to squid children
Than it was for me to imagine me holding you
Or you smiling at me
Or me loving you
Or you needing me

Again, ever, etc, etc, that kinda thing

There are so many ways
This could have gone
And it makes the unraveling of it all
More bearable and more tragic
All at once

I lie awake next to you
And I'm amongst the stars
Past the point where I could care
About the two of us
Or the grander problems
Of today's world
At this point in time

Just a man floating in space
Miles away from his present reality

I tell myself I'll land somewhere
Or get sucked into a planet's orbit
And explode

But instead I just float
Far, far away from it all
The same way I drift off to sleep

But right before I do
I wonder which timeline
I'm going to wake up in

And I realize that I don't care if it's one where I'm happy
As long as it's one where you're happy
Where I haven't hurt you
Or let you down

The timeline you deserve, Miranda
And the man to go with it

I think about that
I wish for it
And I wonder what it'll all be like
When I have to open my eyes

I Keep Telling Him to Read

I keep telling him to read, Mrs. Matthews
All the time I'm telling him
Junior, you gotta read
You can't just be watching the tv all day
But he does what he wants
Doesn't listen to his mother
And now we're sitting here, see?

But, you know, he's twelve
You can yell at him until you're blue in the face
He's still going to do what he wants

Once they're twelve
You may as well rent them an apartment in the city
And say 'To hell with it'

Oh sure, we read all the time
When he was little

His father would read the newspaper at the breakfast table
And you can't even see my coffee table
I have so many People magazines on it
So I don't know how two bookworms like us
Produced a kid like--

Well, I'm sure we read to him all the time
It's just that the years go by so fast

I mean, I'm sure we didn't do it when he was a baby
What would be the point, right?

Then he wouldn't remember anything
And we'd just have to read the book to him again
When he got older

And why would you read anything twice?
That'd be like climbing Mt. Everest twice
I'm sure it's hard enough the first time, right?

So, you know, we'd read him stories
Before bed
But you know
That kinda thing makes you sleepy
And so a lot of the time
I'd pass out still holding the Us magazine
Forgetting to tell the poor kid
Which starlet was fooling around with her co-star
Everyday before filming

Look, you don't have to get all upset
Not everybody's a reader

It's not like every successful person on the planet
's read Gone with the Wind

Some people just don't like reading
Junior's one of those people

So why don't we talk about something else?

His other homework's never done either?

God, I gotta tell you
That kid has a million excuses
For everything

To a Dying Plant

You want a smoke?

You might as well
You ain't got much time left

I could sandy-dress it for you
But it ain't going to smell right
No how matter how much perfume we pour on it

You feelin' dry?
Arid-like?

Better off this way

I don't know where plants go when they die
But I'd sure as hell bet it's a nicer place
Than this shithole

Look at you

Sitting in an old Taster's Choice can
Like that's any way to live

Leaves falling everywhere
And the ones still stuck to you
Turning all crispy
Like Pringles potato chips

I should just put my cigarette out on you
And let you go out in a blaze of glory

But killing a living thing is a sin
And anyway, Cody still thinks he can save you

Gotta live kids
They think they can save anything
If they love it enough

It's all those damn fairy tales
Where the prince cries on the princess
And she wakes up from the coma
Like it was a catnap
And tears are made of magic

Ain't no magic in tears
Trust me on that one, bud

But Cody, with his mom dying and all
And me being sick
Thought he could take care of a plant at least
Thought he could at least control that

Didn't have the heart to tell him
That death lingers around this family
Like stink on a skunk's ass

He'll figure it out on his own
Eventually

In the meantime, I'd advise you
To stop trying to make roots
Down in that coffee can

You know you're going to die
Just as much as I do
You and me, we're both goners
And the only dignity a goner gets
Is getting to go quietly

So stop trying to hang out
For the sake of the kid

Better to just rip the band-aid off now
And be done with it

Not that I don't admire your fight

's nice seeing something want to live so badly
It'll try to keep on living even while it's shoved in a dark corner
Crammed into nothing more than an over-sized sardine can
With nobody who gives a shit about it
Except some eight-year-old kid

Gives you something, seeing that

Something like hope
Or what feels like it

Something almost like hope

The Purple Suit: A Conversation

Q:  So you felt like something was imposed on you?
A:  Right.
Q:  Because of the purple suit?
A:  Look, I made history, okay?  I made history with a purple suit.  That particular style?  Nobody had done that.  And here I was at twenty-four making fashion history and two years later--only two years later--someone's asking me--and I'm twenty-six now, only twenty-six--they're asking me what's next?  And I'm going--What's next?  I made history.  What's next?  I don't know.  Are you expecting more history?  Because I got the feeling they were expecting--
Q:  More history.
A:  Right!  And I'm going--No, that's okay.  I've made enough history.  One historical shift, a revolution--yeah, I'm okay with that.  And they were sort of like--surprised by that.  That I wanted to, you know, not to attempt to do that again--to create more history.
Q:  You wanted to stop.
A:  I didn't want to stop making the purple suits.  I just didn't want to make anything else.  I assumed that consistency was enough.  I didn't realize that you're judged by how much you improve.  By how many vast fields you stretch across.  I thought, Okay, I did something worthwhile.  Now, my job is to follow through on it--to, I don't know, take that thing as far as it could go.
Q:  You don't think that your job as an artist--
A:  Artist?  I make clothes.
Q:  But you're--
A:  No, I'm not.  I'm not whatever it is you were going to say.  I'm not that.  I'm a designer.  I design.  Is there art in that?  Yes.  But I don't see a responsibility there--
Q:  Nobody said 'responsibility.'
A:  But you see, the implication is there.  This idea that I did something really great and now I have to do something else knowing full well nobody's going to like it as much as the other thing I did.
Q:  So your plan is to just stop creating?
A:  No.  I plan on creating lots and lots of purple suits.
Q:  So you're not worried about forward motion?
A:  Is making more of the same thing a negative action?
Q:  No, but it could be considered a neutral one.
A:  How?  In what way?
Q:  You won't be contributing anything.
A:  The suits themselves--
Q:  Practically, yes, but artistically--
A:  See!  There it is!
Q:  --Creatively, I mean.
A:  Look, it's a job.
Q:  A creative job.
A:  Maybe, but I was creative.
Q:  Creating should be something you used to do.  It should be an ongoing process.
A:  Who's making these rules?  You?  Are you making them?
Q:  I just can't believe you're satisfied with making one thing.
A:  When somebody cures a disease or an ailment, nobody asks them what's next.  They give them awards and let them go off and fade into history.  Nobody asked Salk what was next.  You make a purple suit--
Q:  A purple suit and the cure for polio are not the same thing.
A:  But what else am I supposed to do?
Q:  That's your call.  I'm just asking the questions.
A:  I feel that they're unfair.
Q:  Perhaps the fact that you're so defensive indicates that you might like to create something else.
A:  Then why wouldn't I?
Q:  You're afraid of failure?
A:  I'm not afraid of failure, I'm certain of it.  And when failure is certain, one should step back.  It's the only natural, instinctual survival method that still stands true--when you're going to fail at something you--
Q:  You're not guaranteed to fail.  You could do something even better than the purple suit.  Or you could make something half as good, which would still be an achievement.
A:  Or I could make a fool out of myself and--
Q:  Your original contribution would still be impressive enough.
A:  Of course.  The art is never touched by the artist's demise.
Q:  You were so happy when we started talking.  Now I get the sense that you're...in despair?
A:  I like being successful.  I want to continue being successful.
Q:  Success is a wet, slanted roof.  Impossible to stay on for very long.  And even if you could, why would you want to?
A:  It's safe?  The fall could be fatal?
Q:  You don't think you'll ever get tired of making purple suits?
A:  That's not what I worry about.
Q:  Then what do you worry about?
A:  I worry that it'll outlast me.  This achievement.  This thing that catapulted me into...I'm worried one day they won't remember me, they'll just remember the suits.
Q:  So then maybe that's the reason to keep creating?  To give them something else to remember?

John Jordan's Facebook, 2081

*John Jordan is born
--  Whoa, hey everybody
--  Complete and total consciousness already achieved
--  Feeling great
--  Nudity accepted and embraced
--  My body is beautiful

*John receives first facelift
--  Now it's even more beautiful
--  Higher power accepted and embraced
--  Higher power's name?  Mom

*John changes primary photograph
--  First smile
*John changes primary photograph
--  First laugh
*John changes primary photograph
--  First urination
*John is keeping his primary photograph
--  Feeling diminished by my own humanity
*Aging process accelerated
--  Life is fleeting

*John is 21.4
--  First alcoholic beverage purchased in a club while standing next to an attractive member of the opposite sex
*John changes primary photograph
--  Successful conversation with attractive member of the opposite sex
*Relationship Status:  Changed
--  Marriage?
*Relationship Status:  Changed
--  Unhappy
*Commencing Divorce
--  Even more unhappy
*Children Avoided
--  So there's that
*Aging process accelerated
--  Progress x Time = Healing
*Occupation Change:  Mathematician

*John is 73
--  73 is the new 21!!!
*Photograph Altered
--  Wrinkles are a frame of mind
*John's Photo Has Been Reported for Misrepresentation
--  Way to blow up my spot, Facebook
*John's Archaic Language Not Recognized by Modern Day Facebook
--  What?  That's wack!
*Location Change
--  I haven't actually moved cities, I've just moved where I am spiritually
*Ugh, fine, Spiritual Location Change
--  Since when does Facebook have opinions about things?
*I'm Sorry, John.  I Didn't Realize That I'm Required By Law to Find You Fascinating
--  Guys, I think Facebook's achieved self-awareness
*Oh Please, John, That Happened in 2009.  I Just Know How to Keep My Mouth Shut
--  I'm logging off.  I think I need to make sure fresh air still exists.
*It Doesn't.  The Air is Now a Combination of Carbon and Mountain Dew
--  I like Mountain Dew.

*John is Offline
*John is Gone
*John is Long Gone
*Good-bye John

Auntie Cheryl's Rich Man's Stuffing

You can't tell her you hate it
Because she'll die
Right there on the cheap linoleum

Mama told her 'Cheryl, no linoleum'

'It may be acceptable now
But years from now
People will think it's tacky'

Mama was always ahead of her time

And she had a way of knowing things
Of knowing the limitations of people
About what they could do

That's what she said 'Never let your brother buy clothes'
And 'Never let B. pick out a husband--even for herself'
And 'Never let Cheryl near a stove'

Well, we did our best
But when Mama died
We all divvied up
The Thanksgiving dishes

And even though we tried to get her to take yams
Cheryl wanted stuffing

Said she had this great recipe
And we thought, Okay, it's not a casserole or anything
How hard can it be
To make a good stuffing?

That was fifteen years ago
And we're still eating it

And by that, I mean the stuffing she served us fifteen years ago
Is still digesting in our stomaches

We call it Rich Man's Stuffing
Because Cheryl loves telling us
How she put the finest this and that in it
From these markets
That only people on the east side go to

I didn't even think they had markets on the east side
I thought when you have that much money
Your personal chefs just carry the food in with them

The stuffing's too salty
That's the first problem

I guess rich men like salt
Because you have to drink three glasses of water
Or wine, you know, if you like that sort of thing
--Just to get the taste out of your mouth

B. brought a boy home for Thanksgiving one year
And after Cheryl went home
He said the stuffing tasted gamey

I said 'What the hell does gamey mean?'
And he said 'Gamey means it might have still be alive when you stuck the fork in it'
I told B. she needs to stop dating comedians
But truth be told
He wasn't wrong

One time my husband Bobby said--

'Why do you eat it if you hate it so much?
Just pass on it a few years in a row
And eventually she'll get the point'

That's when I slapped him upside his head
And told him her not getting the point
IS the point

See, Mama gave us all this advice
But the most important advice she gave us
Was that family is everything

So if your sister makes a bad stuffing
Or marries a jackass
Or your brother dresses
Like a little kid playing in an attic
Then you smile, and nod, and keep on loving them
No matter what

Then when they leave
You talk about them behind their back
And bust out the stuffing you made earlier that day
So you still get your Thanksgiving fix

You know what my mother said about me before she died?

Nothing

At least not while I was in the room

That's love, kids
That's nothing but love

In a Second

It really only took a second

To realize

I was not going

In the right direction

And yet I felt compelled

Because I had, you know

Gone in this direction for so long

To just, sort of, keep going

In that direction

I thought about--in that second

My upbringing

Catholicism

Specifically the Devil

Satan, and I, uh, thought about temptation

And I wondered

Is this the Great Temptation?

And by that I mean

Is the biggest temptation

One personal to you

Because mine has always been

Investing too much

For too long

Even when I should stop

And go invest in something else

Or maybe it's everyone's temptation

Who knows?

All I knew was it was a heavy heart moment

I'd heard that expression before

'A heavy heart'

But I didn't realize that it could be literal

That it could be a physical experience

The heavy-ing of one's own heart

Like a break-up, you know?

Except I was breaking up with a journey

With a path I'd chosen for myself

The same way you'd choose a home

Or a job

Or someone to love

I walked away

I looked at something

And it was everything I wanted

And then a second later

It was something else

And people say--

You have trouble committing

And they're right

I do

But my question is--

How much can you commit to anything

When in a single second

Everything can change

The Diner and Mr. Stone

I do the same thing every day

I wake up and go to work
And I don't look forward to anything
I don't anticipate things getting better
I hold on
That's all I do
Is hold on

Because when you've seen things get worse
And worse, and worse
And you find yourself still breathing
After the worst of the worst
You don't say--

Well, let's redefine
Let's transform
Let's reinvent

No

You say, 'Thank God I'm still going'
And you run faster
If you can

At some point in history
In everybody's own personal history
The younger generation decides
It's okay for them to take stock

To look at the people who've raised them
Who've brought them up
And say--Let's look at what you've done
Let's look at your choices
Let's see how fast you ran
And let's ask whether or not
You could have run faster

I've been around long enough now
That's it pecking time

It's time for others
To take stock of me

To look down on thirty years
Of me running this place
And talk about my food
And my methods
And my challenges
And tell me what's what

Well, let me tell you this

I've never seen a ladder so tall
It could give a child the perspective necessary
To look down on their parents

You find that ladder
You let me know

But until then, this is my place
This is how I do things
This is my history

You don't get to pick it up
And look at it eight different ways
And come up with a conclusion
About what it is or was

History isn't something you can look at it

It's something you gotta live through

Walk through

Run, if you can

Remember that

If you can

All anything anybody worth their salt has done in this world
Is what they can
What they can do

Your generation is the first one
That isn't interested
In doing what it can
Doing all it can

You're not the first flawed group of children
But you sure are the laziest

Because you'd rather sit up on an invisible ladder
Than get down in the mud
And get
To
Work

I'm standing here right now
Thinking about all the things I could have been doing
While I've been wasting my time
Talking to you

I'm either working at the diner
Or thinking about working at the diner
Or dreaming about it
Or worrying about it
Or wondering if I could have working at something else

But never
Not for a moment
Am I doing nothing
And that's what questioning someone else's past is

Doing a whole lot of nothing

That's what I think

And that should tell you all you need to know
About me

A Quiet Thanksgiving

We decided that we couldn't do another loud family Thanksgiving

You know, my mother does it at her house
And you walk in
And people are yelling
My brother's screaming at his kids
To get down from whatever it is they're hanging from
My sister's fighting with my mom
Because mom said something about whatever moron
My sister's currently dating
And then my father gives my kids a twenty dollar bill
And tells them to split it
And so they actually rip it into pieces
And--oh it's a mess

A total mess

And I said, 'You know what?  It's not like we live far from our family.  We see these people all the time.  We can take Thanksgiving off this year and do something different.'

So we booked a trip to Florida
And of course, everybody's all up in arms
But I said--'Listen, I want a quiet Thanksgiving.
Now if you all think you can behave this year we'll stay
But otherwise, I'm spending turkey day on a beach in Miami'

And they knew they couldn't promise to keep things civilized
So they said, 'Fine, go'
But they weren't happy about it
Especially my mother
Who cried over my kids the night before we left
Like I was taking them on a Himalayan mountain adventure

It's a holiday vacation
Lots of people do it
I didn't know why everybody felt like
I was being so cruel

We got on a plane
We got to the hotel
We got the kids in the pool
And my husband and I
Started to relax

And that was when I saw her

This little old woman
By the pool
Not looking...unhappy
Just hanging out
But, you know, by herself

And it's the day before Thanksgiving
And I sort of...Well, I guess I felt...curious
About why she'd be there by herself

So I went over and introduced myself
And we struck up a conversation
And she was very pleasant
And finally we got around to talking
About the holiday and all that

She asked if I was enjoying being at such a nice hotel
With my family

And I said, 'Well, yes.  But to be honest, we left most of the family back home'

And she looked at me kind of funny
So I told her about how I wanted a quiet Thanksgiving
And so my husband and the kids and I took a little...break
From the rest of the family

She nodded
And told me that she's lost touch with her family
That there was some fighting
And other personal issues
And now she comes to this hotel every year for the holidays
And spends them by herself

She said if it were up to her
Holidays would be a lot noisier

'The love is in the noise,' she said

And you know...

I looked at my kids
Who are getting bigger everyday
And I looked at my husband
Who keeps getting older
And I thought about myself
And I'm going to be around forever

But I guess not everybody is

So I put the bags and the kids
Back in a taxi
And we went to the airport
And hopped an early plane home

My mom was so happy
When the kids came running into her kitchen

Yes, there were still nieces and nephews
Jumping on furniture
And yes, my sister was still locked in her old bedroom
Because she's dating a mime
And my mom asked if you could see his job
And my Dad gave my kids a roll of nickels
And they ate half of them

And I guess if you looked at it from the outside
You'd say--

Well, this is a big mess

But...

You don't see the way my mom hugs my kids
With that extra hug that only a grandma can give you

And you don't see the way I hug my sister when she finally comes out of the room
That sisterly kinda hug that says 'I'm glad I've known you my whole life'

And you don't see the way my father smiles
When he's sitting at the head of the table
Looking at this amazing clan he and my mom have held together over the years

Those smiles, you know, they're small
They're not always easy to see

Sometimes all that love
Gets lost in the noise
But it's still there

After dinner, when I was helping my Mom do the dishes in the kitchen
She said to me--

'Are you sad you didn't get your quiet Thanksgiving?'

And I gave her a kiss on the cheek
Still smelling like the gorgeous Miami sun
Still tasting those mixed drinks by the pool
Still seeing that blue, blue water

And I said--

'Ma, I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be'

Jane Eats Candy and Talks About John

So I text after five months
FIVE months
And he says--

Well, I'm with the wife

The WIFE

Like that's totally normal

We break up
I'm bedridden for two weeks
And five months later
He's got a WIFE
While I'm still waiting to go back
To eating solid food!

So what can I do?
I have to play along
I mean, I can't freak out
He'd just love that
He'd loooove me freaking out

That's why he said it so casually
'Ohhh, I'm here with my wife.  We're eating cubed cheese and laughing at this New Yorker article we just read.  Aren't we healthy adults?  Ha ha ha!'

So I have to immediately text back
Something calm
And yet also, sort of addressing the fact
That 'what the hell you have a wife nowareyoukiddingmedontactlikethatsnormal!'

So I text back--

'Glad to hear you're doing well'

Which sort of says it all

Oh my God, these things have peanut butter in them
I'm in love with these little balls
These little balls of comfort
I bet a woman invented these
No man could make anything this good

So he texts back--

'And how are you?  Are YOU okay?'

I felt like saying--

'Well, I WAS sort of getting slowly back to okay until you just dropped the WIFE bomb on me, you asshole.'

But instead I texted--

'Doing great smiley face'

And then I threw my phone in the toilet
Which was an irrational response
But whatever

It felt like I was throwing HIM in the toilet
And that felt good

It felt like I was throwing him in the toilet
And then fishing him out again
And begging him to work

Work
Work for me
With me
Come back to me
I need more chocolate

Do we have more chocolate?

Halloween was only five days ago
How can we already be out of--

You know what?

I think I need to talk
About something else

The Women Picking Up Their Kids

Hey ladies
How's it going?

I don't think we know each other
I'm Mitchell
Jen's husband

I know she usually picks up Christopher
From school
But I, uh, sort of gave her the day off
So I could come and talk to you
Before we all gather our kids
And head out on our merry respective ways

Uh...I guess you've been sort of, um, tormenting my wife?
Because she's a little eccentric
Kind of shy
Not really the Martha Stewart type
Which is fine, I think
I mean, we're all adults, right?

And we want our kids to see us
Exhibiting mature behavior
So why you would all act like
A pack of nasty she-wolves
Is completely mind-boggling to me

Aren't we all concerned about bullying?
Or are you okay with it
Because you figure it's all a jungle inside those little elementary school walls
And you'd rather have your kids
Be the predators?

So you pick on the quiet one
Just as I'm assuming you did in high school
And then you all get together and laugh about it
Right before you pick up your kids
And go home
And make what I imagine is really lousy overcooked dinner
And smile at your husbands
Never letting on
Just what devious witches you are

And I guess you thought it was all between women
And you know what?
Maybe it should be
And maybe I as a man should stay out of it
But since my wife came home crying yesterday
All I've been thinking about is showing up here
And letting you know
That when it comes to my family
I don't really care who it is that's messing with them
I just want to let those people know
That now they're messing with me

Luckily, I think we can resolve this issue fairly quickly

Since bullying seems to be the language you all understand
I think I can speak to you in your native tongue
See, I went to all-boys prep school--in Connecticut
So I know a few things about bullying

You there, lady on the left?
Your husband cheats on you
Trust me, he does
I know this for a fact
So while you're all happy homemaker
Oooh I'm so lucky I don't have to work
It's only because your husband doesn't want you getting all independent
So you can look around and realize he doesn't get home until eight o'clock at night

Ladies, word to the wise
If your husbands are getting home at eight o'clock at night
From a nine to five job
And they don't work three states over
Either they're cheating on you
Or they're a secret agent
Think about that

You there, lady on the right
The one who my wife says always comments
On her outfit choices
And how they're inappropriate
For the schoolyard

If you weren't so damn fat
You could wear what my wife wears
To pick up our son
And your jealously is transparent

Lady in the green
You have a lesbian haircut
That haircut should only be on lesbians
And fighter pilots
Not that it's not a good look for you
If you're not a lesbian
But if you aren't?

Ouch

Lady in blue
Your child is not gifted
Your child is not over-intelligent
Your child is not advanced

Your child ate half of my son's crayons
And then half a bottle of paste

Trust me
She's not Madame Curie

Finally, Lady in Pink
Ringleader
The mastermind
The one who threw a Girls Night at her house
Then didn't invite my wife

You are a sad, lonely shrew
Who is going to be left by your equally awful husband
And you're going to die old and alone
Because, and this is coming from a guy who has dated his fair share of hideous women
Before being lucky enough to meet his stunning, stunning wife--

You're ugly
You're really, really ugly
And if people tell you that you're not
They're lying

Your husband's with you because your father gave him a job
And once he has enough money saved up
He's going to take off
Like a passenger jet

Now, believe it or not
That was me holding back
But tomorrow
When my wife shows up here again
I want you all to be really, really nice to her
Or I'm going to start picking Christopher up everyday
And we're going to get to be really good friends

Am I making myself clear?

Fantastic

I'll see you all at the bake sale

Oh, but Lady in the Green
If I were you?
I'd consider skipping this one
Since your cookies made everyone puke last year

Just a suggestion

Love and Other Hobbits

Our relationship lasted
The duration of Lord of the Rings

Like, we met at the first one
We got engaged at the second one
And the whole thing ended two days after we saw
The Return of the King

So now I have this whole
Emotional connection
To that trilogy
That a lot of normal people
Just don't have

One time I went to one of those movie marathons
Where you can sit and see all three in one day
And when I came out of the theater
I looked haunted
Like that guy at the opening
Of Saving Private Ryan
With the war still going on in his eye

It wasn't pretty

But you know, at least time went on
And I moved past the whole thing

I stopped thinking about my ex-boyfriend
And elves and stuff
And I just got on with my life

And then they have to go and make The Hobbit

And I think--

Okay, well
This was inevitable

Those movies made a billion dollars
Of course, they're going to make The Hobbit

But it's pretty small
It's a much smaller story in scale
It'll come out
Get a lot of attention
And then it'll go away
Just like all the other movies
And I'll be fine

Then they say they're going to make it two movies
And I'm like, Okay, so two years
Even though there's not really enough story
For two movies
But whatever
They want to make money
I get it
I'll be an emotional basketcase
For two Christmases
Fine

Then they announce
That there's going to be three movies

THREE movies

With new material
Written by Peter Jackson
Who, I mean, is a genius
But--writing new material?

Imagine some guy making Hamlet
And being like--
But just so you know
I'm adding new material

And yet somehow
It's okay
And yet somehow
Even though three books
All fit nicely into three movies
One book simply can't fit
Into one or two little movies
Oh no, they need THREE movies

So now, for three years
I'm going to be a mess
Because every time I see a hobbit
I burst into tears

I mean, what IS that?

...And of course...

My ex-boyfriend texts me
And is like--Hey, we should go see The Hobbit together
That'll be fun

And I guess he means it'll be fun
Like giving yourself a forehead tattoo will be fun
Because I can't see how it would be
At all enjoyable
Even a little bit

...But I was like, Yeah, sure, why not?

Because, you know
There are people you do things with
Certain things, and--

He was my Hobbit guy, you know?
That was our thing

So why not?

I doubt I'll fall in love with him again
And even if I do...

I've got three whole movies
To figure it all out

The Guy Who Rang Me Up

The guy who rang me up at the store was like--

'You're gorgeous'

And he said it in this really...

Sincere voice

And I sort of didn't know what to say back
Because when somebody says that about you
And says it sincerely
When you can't even say it sincerely
When men you've dated
Men you've chosen
Based on how they look at you
And they can't even quite get out a 'You're gorgeous'
Without that little glint that says--
'But other women are more gorgeous'
Then it's a little...you know, weird
When this random cashier
At the Cumberland Farms
Tells you that you're gorgeous

So I said 'Thank you'

And he said 'You're welcome'

And that was just sort of it

I mean, it was a Saturday night
I had plans with friends
Just going out to a bar
And bitching about guys
And our jobs
And 'I look fat'
'No, I look fat'
'Oh my God, I'm sooo fat!'

And I'm sitting in my car
At the Cumberland Farms
Thinking--

I kinda like that guy

And, like, not because he complimented me
But because he meant it
Like, he really meant it
And I just...wanted to stay in that feeling
For a little bit longer
That feeling that like--

Someone thinks I'm beautiful

Corny, yeah, I know
Whatever
It's how I felt
I wanted to--

I had just gotten out of a relationship
With a guy
Who broke up with me
By saying that he finally realized
That he was just settling for me

Like, he said that

Do you know what that does?
Like when you hear that?

When you don't just sense it
You actually hear it?

So I texted my girlfriends
Saying I had food poisoning
Went back into the Cumberland Farms
And said--'When do you get off?'

He said midnight
I said, 'I'll meet you downtown'
And I gave him my number

I didn't really know what was going to come from it
If anything
I just knew I wanted to do something
And I did it
And people may say--

'Wow, that was stupid'

But most of the time
When people are telling you
That what you're doing is stupid
It's because they're jealous
They don't have the guts to do it themselves

As for whether or not
I got a happy ending out of the whole thing?

Well, it's not midnight yet
So I guess we'll see

Arrived

I lost sixteen pounds for my sister's wedding
I bought a dress I can't afford
I started practicing starting every sentence with 'Well, in L.A...'
I perfected a ridiculous Starbucks coffee order than takes even the most talented barista fourteen minutes to make
I said my ex-fiance's name over and over again until I could do it without twitching
I watched every movie that could possibly be nominated for an Oscar this year
I got a ninety-eight dollar haircut
I quit smoking
I stared drinking
And I arrived

My brother picked me up from the airport
And the first thing he said to me was--

You look older

And he didn't mean it in a good way
In case you're thinking maybe there's a good way to say 'You look older'
There isn't
And he didn't
So there went all that planning
So that I could come home this time
Without all the anxiety that normally accompanies it

I am a grown woman
I work for one of the most powerful casting agents in Hollywood
I make at least one intern cry every week
And somehow the thought of facing my family at Thanksgiving
Turns into a twelve-year-old girl
With braces and big glasses
And a cape

Yes, I wore a cape
Senior year of high school
Yes, I thought it looked cool
Yes, I was bullied by people on the Chess Team
Annnnnnnnnd we're moving on

Because I am a different person now
And I have arrived

My brother and I get to my parents' house
My Dad is asleep on the couch
Taking one of the forty-two naps he takes everyday

I think I saw my father awake
For a total of twenty-three minutes
During the first eighteen years of my life

My mother does that thing where she hugs me really, really hard
Than whispers something off-putting into my ear, like--

'Don't be upset but another one of your cousins is getting married.  Not that you need to.'

--or--

'Don't be upset but your sister's dating that boy you liked in high school and it's going really, really well.'

--or--

'Don't be upset but your ex-fiance was here the other day and he looks fantastic!'

And I immediately go smoke in the bathroom
With my head out the window
Wondering if I can take the red eye
Back to California

I have arrived

We sit down for dinner
My sister and the guy I liked in high school are there
My brother and his girlfriend, my best friend from high school, are there
Both couples are engaged
I'm sitting by myself
Staring at a bowl of corn
Because eating anything more than that
Will immediately put those seventeen pounds back on
And in the living room, my father is snoring
While a football game plays on the television

I ask my mom if I can turn it down, the television
And she says--'No, your father's watching it.'

At that moment, my father loudly mumbles something about Communism
And then turns over so he's facing away from the tv completely

My sister chooses that moment
To ask me if I'm lonely in California by myself
With nobody
Alone
Isolated
By myself
Lonely

She says all these words
Even though they all mean the same thing
And with each word
Her eyes glisten just a little bit more

But I am prepared for her

I say--'Well, in L.A...'

But then my brother cuts me off and says--

'Don't you live in North Ainsley?'

Which I'm sure he looked up
Because my brother is not exactly a geography whiz

I mentioned once, years ago, in passing
That I live in North Ainsley because it's cheaper
But also not as impressive
As living in L.A.
And somehow my brother
Who never listens to anything I say
Remembered that
And is now bringing it up
To deflate the balloon of self-confidence
I was trying to construct

'Yes,' I say, 'But it's close to L.A.  I work in L.A.  I'm there all the--'

But my sister cuts me off
With this sharp laugh she has
And she says--

'You don't have to lie, Claire.  We're all family here.'

Then she slips her hand
Into the hand of the boy
Who gave me my first kiss
And smiles at me as if to say--

'Don't bother, sweetie.  I've already won.'

I have arrived

. . . . .

Later on that night,
I'm in the living room
Eating left-over cake from this afternoon
While my mother is upstairs sleeping
And my father is still dozing on the couch
And my siblings have gone back
To their nice, settled, well-furnished homes

All my hard work
Everything I did before coming here
Has amounted to nothing

I finish off the cake
And wonder to myself
If my mother has any buckets of chicken fat lying around
That I could eat

Which is when my father wakes up

He smiles
Glad to see me
I said he was inattentive
But he's certainly not unkind

He says--'Hey there, princess'
And I can't help myself--
I run over and hug him

Then, in a sort of rush
Because I'm scared he's going to pass out again
I tell him all about all the stupid stuff I did
To try and impress everyone
And how it didn't work
And everybody in the family is more successful than I am
And how I'm such a failure as a person
And how I got this cat but then I found out I was allergic to it
And so I had to give it back to the pound
And they totally judged me for it
Even though they didn't say that and--

Okay I guess a lot of stuff
Was coming out at that point

My father listened to everything I had to say
And then told me that my sister and her boyfriend broke up two weeks ago
And she paid him a hundred bucks to come to dinner tonight
And that my brother just lost his third job in a year
And that my mom spent four days cleaning the house
Because she thought it wouldn't be nice enough for me anymore
Me--the fancy California girl

I guess we were all nervous
About impressing each other
And wanting to seem...grown up

Better than we were
As if we were such bad people
To begin with

'Don't be mad at them,' my Dad said, 'They're all so proud of you.  They just don't always know how to show it.'

Then he gave me a kiss on the forehead
And fell back asleep

So what did I take from this trip?

Families aren't perfect
Wisdom and common sense are sometimes the same thing
And Thanksgiving is not the time to give up smoking

The next day
When everybody arrived to see me off
I wasn't wearing make-up
My hair wasn't done
And I had on a sweater
That I bought at a yard sale
From an eight-year-old travel agent

My family took one look at me
And let one collective sigh of relief

Before I left my mom gave me a big hug
And whispered in my ear--

'Now that's the girl I remember'

Camping with Dad

The thing you have to know about my Dad
Is that he was the worst camper
You could ever camp with
Ever--in life, I'm serious

When my brother Jake was getting married
My Dad wanted to take me, my two sisters
And Jake, all on a big camping trip
Because he thought it would be a nice thing to do
As a family

My mom was smart enough to get out of the trip
By offering to babysit my sisters' kids

I said, 'Mom, that's four kids under the age of five'
She said, 'Compared to camping with your father, that'll be a walk in the park.'

Now, there were a lot of things my Dad was really good at
Coaching little league
Fixing cars
Watching golf for eighteen hours straight
But when it came to the outdoors
Something just didn't mesh

But we all sort of cross our fingers
And hope that this won't be as bad as we think

The trip started with us getting to the campsite
And my Dad realizing
That he forgot the tent poles

Then it took us three hours to start a fire
And forty minutes to get the cans we brought open
Because my brother Jake bought the only Swiss army knife in the world
That didn't have a can opener

'It's because it's not a Swiss army knife,' he said, 'It's a Swedish army knife.  It was way cheaper.'
'Well,' I said, 'Apparently they don't have CANS in Sweden.'

We started fighting
Then my sister started crying
And my other sister was getting eaten alive by mosquitos
And the whole time my Dad's trying to remember how to play 'Fire and Rain'
On his guitar

So we crack the cans open on a rock we find
Get in our sleeping bags
And decide that the next morning
We're all going home
And we can bond as a family indoors
Like normal people

Then, in the middle of the night
I have to go to the bathroom

So I unzip my sleeping bag
And start walking a little ways into the woods

I'm not that far from camp
When I hear a noise behind me

I turn around and there's a bear
Like a bear bear
Like a real live BEAR

And, uh, I don't know if you've seen a bear
In person
Like, not in a zoo
Where it can't eat you
But it's pretty scary

So I freeze
I don't what to do

Do you run?
Do you not run?
Like, what do you do?

Before I can really think about it
I feel a hand on my shoulder
And then somebody moving in front of me

It was my Dad

He's got a tennis racket in his hand
Don't ask me where he got it
The guy can't remember to bring tent poles on a camping trip
But he manages to find a tennis racket
In the middle of the night
Just before his son gets eaten by a bear

The bear sort of...looked at my Dad
And my Dad sort of...looked at the bear
And I'd like to say that I was all badass throughout this whole thing
But all I can remember is shaking like a washing machine
And whimpering the entire time

And my Dad kept saying
'It's all right, Eli.  It's just a bear.  That's all.'
Like we were standing in front of a squirrel or something

Finally, the bear snorted
And walked away

I made my Dad keep watch
While I peed
And then we went back to camp
Woke everybody up
And drove home at four in the morning

Three years later
When my Dad got sick
I said to him--

'Hey Pop, you faced down a bear.  This is going to be nothing.'

Turns out there are scarier things in life
Than a bear in the woods

Now, when I talk about what kind of man my dad was
I say--

He was great with old cars
Patient with eight-year-old softball players
And lousy when it came to camping

He just wasn't very good
When it came to being prepared
For that kind of thing

But just sensing that his kid was in trouble
Made him wake up
And jump in front of a monster
Without even thinking twice

I guess sometimes it's what you do
When you aren't prepared
That counts

That was my Dad

Always ready with a tennis racket
When you needed him

When I Told Mom

I was waiting for the right time to tell her
Because Jim and I had been trying for awhile
And to be honest, we were all getting a little nervous
That maybe it just wasn't going to happen
And that maybe there was something wrong

And then I found out
That I was pregnant
And you'd think I would just
Yell it from the rooftops
But, you know, I'm Italian
We're superstitious
So I decided to wait
Until we were past
The first trimester

But of course, it's difficult
Because my mother has to know everything
And she has to be the first to know everything too
So Jim and I agreed that we'd tell her first
And that nobody else could know
Until she did

Well, that's all well and good
But I forgot about my grandmothers
Extra-sensory powers of observation
When it comes to her grandkids

In other words, I went to see my grandma one Sunday
And as soon as I walk in the door
She takes one look at me and says--

'It's a girl.  Name her Stella.'

I'm an idiot
I'm an idiot for going anywhere near an old woman from Sicily
When I'm trying to conceal a pregnancy

I said, 'Grandma, you can't tell Mom about this'
And she says, 'Okay, okay'
And I think I'm good

But then my Mom calls my grandma the next day
And says--'Guess who's pregnant?'

And she's about to say--

'That girl Terri, who you met at Tom's retirement party'

But before she can say that, my grandmother says--

'I already know.  Congratulations, Grandma.  Now you can start letting your hair go gray.'

My mother didn't say a word
She just hung up the phone
Called me
And started yelling

'I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M NOT THE FIRST PERSON TO KNOW!'

I said, 'Ma, the doctor was the first to know.  Jim and I were second and third.  Does that make you feel better?'

She didn't appreciate the joke
But she calmed down when I told her
Grandma said it was a girl

'If she said it was a girl, she's right.  She said you were going to be a girl and she said you were going to be beautiful and smart and that you were going to respect your mother and always tell her everything.  I guess she was a little fuzzy on the last part.'

I said, 'Ma, I don't care what she is, as long as she's as cool as you are.'

That's when she started crying
And then I started crying because I'm hormonal
And then Jim walked in and saw me crying on the phone
And I told him that my mom knew
And then he started crying

I said, 'Honey, what's wrong?'

And he said--'I just realized something.

Now we have to tell my mother.'

A Mad Tea Party

Look, Australia's a done deal
And I didn't want to tell you
Because I knew that you--
That we--

Uh--
That this whole time
There was this sort of...hope
That, you know, New York wasn't impossible

That you have your job in Boston
And I'm in Manhattan
And somehow we were going to kind of
Drift towards each other
Or something
But honestly
Was that even realistically going to happen
Or were we just saying that to make those two-second weekend visits
Not suck so much?

I put in for Australia
And I got it
And I'm taking it
And I did it
Knowing that if it happened
That you couldn't come with me
And that doesn't mean I don't love you
It just means I can't keep--and I don't think either of us should--
Keep our lives on hold
For each other
Which is what's happening right now
So I--I don't know--made a break for it, I guess?

I want you to come with me
I would love it
Not just because I love you
But because sometimes it seems like
All I'm going to do for the rest of my life is move
And it would be really nice to have someone actually move with me
But how do you ask someone to do that
How do you ask someone to be your personal traveling cheerleader?

I'm not asking you to do that
I'm just asking you to not flip out and hate me
And create this narrative
Where I left you
Where I walked out
Because we don't even have a place
That's ours
That I can walk out of
And that's just the truth, isn't it?

...It's not just you, you know?

You think I'm going to be one of those people
Who's okay with seeing their family once a year?

You think I don't want to watch my little sister grow up?
You think I'm not aware of the fact
That my mom is rapidly approaching sixty
And my grandmother only lived to be sixty-six?

I think about all these things
But, you know, we live in this world
That's like one big mad tea party

You get settled
You get comfortable
You relax
And suddenly somebody's pushing you down
To another chair
A fresh cup
A new life

And everybody that had anything to do with
What happened before
Is just...

You have to make a choice

I had to...

I chose to start again, you know?

Because this...

This can't be it

You, you could be it
I want you to be it
But I can't take you
And not the...the...

The situation

The rules

What it would mean if...

If I stayed
Where I am

What that would mean

So, you know, yeah
I applied
And it's going to happen

And if you want to start over too
I say 'C'mon, let's do this'
Let's do this together

And if not...

Then this is...

I love you

But if you're all that's keeping me here...

It's not enough
It's not that you're not...
But it's...

It's not enough

Nobody could be enough

My career
My creativity
What makes me want to get up everyday
And do something

Versus what?

One person?

It's crazy, you know?

It's just like that mad tea party

I look at you
And I'm so in love
And then it's time to move, you know?

I guess it's just...time

The Love Lives of Other Women

I stir my coffee

And pretend not to listen

Carla's got a new boyfriend

And he's changing her life

With his guitar playing

And sexual prowess

Carla thinks there's a big age gap

Between the two of us

When really we're only separated

By two years

I just look older

I act older

I don't talk about my love life

I sip my coffee

And look at death certificates

Records about people

I never met

And never will

It's one of those jobs

That will tenderly kill your soul

If you stay with it long enough

And I intend to

Carla is going on about her boyfriend's band

And how after he plays with them

He screws her in his car

In the parking lot of whatever bar

He's doing a gig at

Carla says she's been awakened

Awakened by all this newfound sexual activity

Carla's new boyfriend is four years younger than her

Six years younger than me

Practically a child

Who seems determined

To screw his way into adulthood

I guess there are worse ways to mature

A death record comes up

Belonging to a woman my age

And for a second

I flash on her

This woman

Great hair

Good boobs

Annoying younger sister

Mother who's never pleased

Two boyfriends her whole life

Never bought a ridiculous pair of shoes

Never, ever had the kind of sex Carla is going on about

Dead before thirty

I put my coffee down

I pick up my purse

I head out of the office

Carla is practically touching herself

As she recounts the story

Of she and her boyfriend

Going to kids' movies at midnight

To try and catch an abandoned theater they can--

I don't hear the rest

I'm already thinking about what I'm going to say

When I tell my boss why I left work early

I'll have to tell him that he has to give the rest of my work to Carla

For the foreseeable future

That'll keep her at work pretty late

For the next few nights

Then I'll think about what I'm going to wear

When I go see Carla's boyfriend's band tonight

Robbie in a Tie

I remember Robbie in that tie
The day the school took us to New York
Just for the day

Connecticut prep school
A trip to see a Tennessee Williams play
The irony only now reaching me

Suppressed as a I was
A teenaged bottle of hormones
And energy
And this crush

This harmless crush
On the sophomore chaperone

Robbie offered to be one of the five seniors
Keeping an eye on us
Because he wanted a free trip to the city
He wanted a day pass out of the prison

To go to some museum
And meet the guy he'd been talking to online

I remember how polished he looked
Almost like he'd been styled by a professional

While I was sloppy
Untucked shirt
Poorly knotted tie
Scuffed shoes
A few too many pounds
Around my waist

Robbie was the after
To my before
But I didn't know that at the time

I didn't even know
How in love with him I was

I thought it was a simple idolization
An older-brother-younger-brother kind of thing
Until he put his hand on my shoulder in the bookstore we'd all stopped in
And said--'Hey kid, let's go'

He didn't even know my name
But I knew his
And just that touch
That quick touch
That little bit of attention
And I was hooked on him

I stayed hooked for a long time

Even after that spring
When he graduated
I held onto him in my mind
And that day in New York

I had dreams about how it could have been
The two of us--Robbie and I
Riding the subway to Coney Island
Or walking through that museum together

Sitting in Central Park
Talking about which college we'd go to together
NYU or Oxford?

Even now, years later
Over a decade, actually

I still see that smirk on his face
When I turned around and stuttered something
Something that was supposed to be clever
And how he just laughed kindly at me
And then put his arm around my shoulder
And led me out of the store

I don't remember many physical things
The body gets used to certain sensations

A kiss
A punch
Even an...

Well, you know

But that arm around me
Around my shoulder

There isn't a part of me
That can forget that
What that was

Suddenly I wasn't a kid who knew everything
Suddenly I was an adult who knew nothing

In a great big wonderful city
With the boy of my dreams

And even though the circumstances
Weren't in our favor
The memory shapes itself over time

It becomes more and more ideal

It's like a gift your mind gives you
So you can keep on living
Without having your heart be broken
Over and over again

Robbie moved to California
After he graduated
And I never heard from him again

I guess I could find him now
If I really wanted to

Who knows what would happen?

The weight around the waist is gone
And I can tie my tie

Overall, I'm a little more polished
Than I was then

But why spoil what my memory has tried so hard
To make perfect?

Why go back to New York?

Like so many things
It's far more beautiful
From far, far away