Week 14
Today I was excited to begin the 2nd semester. It began with a bang. I went to find my car, parked on the street. The window had been smashed, probably by a young adolescent boy looking for some CDs or cash that I had stashed in the dashboard. There was nothing to take, so he got nothing. And I got the expense of $250 for fixing my car at the Honda dealership. Poor little boy, I wonder where his mother was. Couldn't he have stolen from her? It's easiest to steal from your own mother. Actually at the time I was very angry for the assault on my car, especially as I love my car and even have a little name for him: Chivic Khan. It's really just baby talk for Civic, as in Honda, but don't tell him that. He's been a little bit shaken since he was taken for a joy ride by some young hoodlums in Miami in April. They really messed up his inside trying to get the radio out.
Instead of going on the picnic me and sis had planned, we had to take the car into the Honda Brooklyn dealership and wait in the nearby hood for 4 hours. We had a nice Lebanese lunch, shopped for bras and nighties at Century 21, but lo and behold, they wouldn't let us try on the bras or nighties. Who buys a bra without trying it on? So, even though I was desparate for a new, wire-free cotton nice support bra, I got none. There was a maternity shop on the street too, but I don't think I'm quite ready for a nursing bra. Why don't maternity shops have maternity bras? I've been to two and both only carried horridly ugly nursing bras. We also went for mani pedis, a very New York thing to do: sit in a strongly fumed room while poor hunched women painfully file your nails. To me it is a bit torturous but we needed the A/C badly.
Later, I lent my sis a dress that no longer fits me for her rendezvous with a boy. I went to meet my own boy in the West Village. He was leaning by the cage on West 4th, where the black boys play basketball. We went for drinks at a bar, where I wanted a campari, but settled for pineapple juice. I felt like a groundhog that had come up from the ground. It felt so good to be out and about and not tired nor nauseas. Then we rushed to the Angelika cinema to watch our fav man Bill Murray look for his past, his unknown son. He sees himself in the face of every young boy.
I often wonder what Olive will look like. I was convinced she'd have blue eyes. There's a 13.6% chance of that happening, since her daddy has blue eyes. My mother says that whatever you look at all day affects what your child will look like. She says my sis turned out so dark because during her pregnancy my mother was constantly around her brother in law, who is very dark. I try to look into Aaron's blue eyes. He's usually staring at the computer screen doing the work of several men.
Instead of going on the picnic me and sis had planned, we had to take the car into the Honda Brooklyn dealership and wait in the nearby hood for 4 hours. We had a nice Lebanese lunch, shopped for bras and nighties at Century 21, but lo and behold, they wouldn't let us try on the bras or nighties. Who buys a bra without trying it on? So, even though I was desparate for a new, wire-free cotton nice support bra, I got none. There was a maternity shop on the street too, but I don't think I'm quite ready for a nursing bra. Why don't maternity shops have maternity bras? I've been to two and both only carried horridly ugly nursing bras. We also went for mani pedis, a very New York thing to do: sit in a strongly fumed room while poor hunched women painfully file your nails. To me it is a bit torturous but we needed the A/C badly.
Later, I lent my sis a dress that no longer fits me for her rendezvous with a boy. I went to meet my own boy in the West Village. He was leaning by the cage on West 4th, where the black boys play basketball. We went for drinks at a bar, where I wanted a campari, but settled for pineapple juice. I felt like a groundhog that had come up from the ground. It felt so good to be out and about and not tired nor nauseas. Then we rushed to the Angelika cinema to watch our fav man Bill Murray look for his past, his unknown son. He sees himself in the face of every young boy.
I often wonder what Olive will look like. I was convinced she'd have blue eyes. There's a 13.6% chance of that happening, since her daddy has blue eyes. My mother says that whatever you look at all day affects what your child will look like. She says my sis turned out so dark because during her pregnancy my mother was constantly around her brother in law, who is very dark. I try to look into Aaron's blue eyes. He's usually staring at the computer screen doing the work of several men.
posted by Mama at 9:37 AM
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