Tag Archives: Life

Lament for My Squeaky Bra

10 Sep

 

Sing to me, O Muse, the cause of
a squeaky bra on the day I
presented my pimped-out PowerPoint
of which I was once so proud.

Not pearls, heels nor shaky laser pen
could take the attention from
these blushing cheeks
as each step bore the betrayal of creak

and squeak.

O, bra most exquisite!
What awkwardness thou hast provided
whilst supporting my superior bosom.

Continue not this costly crime against me,
for our intimate time
together has been not long

and I do not know if you can be fixed with WD-40.

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Aunt Lauren’s Dance Party

12 Mar

I have been babysitting my niece since she was 6 months old. She’s such a loving, happy little girl. You might say that my childhood experience was a bit different from her’s. This sums it up:

La La on sled (left) and Little L on sled (right)

We were night and day and I felt this difference from the moment we began spending our days together. I was a quiet, sensitive, coloring book kind of kid and she has been a funny, energetic, grade-A chatty Cathy from the get-go. 

When she turned 3, I needed to find something to tire her out so I invented, “Aunt Lauren’s Dance Party.” I would burn recent pop music to a CD, bring it to her house and we would drive (she usually drove) to a dance club in our imaginations called “Aunt Lauren’s” and then we would dance for hours. I was a fucking genius.

For 3 years we had fun with this by integrating all kinds of situations, dressing up, pretending to be different people, and making up silly dances. She’s older now and we see less of each other these days, but when we are together we watch musicals and sing along, build tents and really just have a rollicking good time.

Recently, I realized that we are now very much alike and that she helped me relive parts of my childhood (even adulthood) that frightened me in the past. Maybe I helped shape her into the charming, creative kid she is today (especially since she understands sarcasm). Regardless, I love her, and maybe one day I will make someone just as wonderful.

Ed.

8 Mar

I have waited 3 and a half years for Ed, the painter in our building, to say something to me. We have never spoken or even exchanged glances. Ed’s job is to paint 6 floors of flat, chalk-white walls and then restart at the beginning and paint them again. How dull.

I used to feel bad for him so I would say, “good morning” or “have a good evening,” but he never responded. I gave up and figured that he’s just an impolite dick with a monotonous job. Sometimes when I pass by, I catch him in the window reflection checking out my ass. Boys really will be boys.

Today I came into work a different way so I could spend a little more time dreaming up things in the sunshine. Beautiful days always put my head in the clouds. As I approached the building, I saw Ed coming in from the other side. We walked in together and waited in silence for the elevator. Once we were on, the door closed and he looked up at me and said, “Whatever is making you smile like that, hold it close and never let it go.”

I was taken aback. “Oh I won’t,” I replied firmly. He smiled. We got off the elevator and before we went our separate ways he said, “Good girl. I’m glad we understand each other–now go be happy.”

And so I am. Life, what a funny, precious thing.

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