Skip to main content

::U Con, I Con,He really Cons...::

I fell asleep after ingesting: 36 chicken nuggets, 2.5 liters of white wine that was consumed out of a box,with a nifty little keg spout, one random blue pill, and the amount of tar used to pave small roads in New Hampshire via Newports.
I awoke, ingested some caffine to coat my stomach and hit the road to visit my brother up at UConn. No make up. Plaid shirt. Ponytail. Huge hungover sunglasses, (because a fabulous pair of sunglasses makes up for all other wardrobe failures) and hit the road with my best friend (in heels and D&G of course) and my daughter. In a matching plaid shirt and leggings. Because in my mind we're the same age. Both 16 lol. (I averaged her 5 with my eternal 26)

We arrive in Storrs Connecticut in a whirlwind of culture shock. My ever blackening lungs almost collapsed under the weight of fresh farm air, and healthy cow poop aromas.
My brother, aka "The Golden Boy" (who, amongst other things, is on the boxing team, the anchor of the campus news station, plays intermural basketball, has a 4.0 so far, amazing green eyes and can literally do no wrong in life.) is all too happy to see this motley crew arrive for him. Against the perfectly manicured campus background, we must have painted the most vivid portrait of reality he's seen in a while. We brought a little bit of home to him, and his new world.

The thing that hit me the most were all the beautiful kids. The beautiful, fit,happy blonde girls jogging around. The perfectly pec'd football dudes going to the gym. The optimism in my brothers voice as he gave us a tour. All those buildings, all named for people who have accomplished things I couldn't even dream up. All those books, study halls, happy happy shiny people.

But the girls. The damn girls stayed on my mind. I felt like an 86 year old pervy man, thinking "damn she must look amazing naked."

I haven't looked "amazing" naked in a minute. My body is struggling hard to maintain itself against the horrors of childbirth, Burger King and countless gallons of coffee injected, but it's loosing a slow painful battle.
I also haven't had their sense of optimism and hope in quite some time.
A lot happens in your life between 18 and 28. A literal decade of failures, triumphs, heartbreaks, lusts, regrets, embarassments, and on and on and on.
A decade of life that seperates the happy shiny fresh faced Connecticut girls, and the weathered, cold hearts of ours.

The four of us traveled across campus and soaked it all in. The future of my daughter,the past of me and Emily, and the present reality of my brohter.
3 different generations all together on Family Day.

I must say I was touched. As I sit here tired and lonely and ready to face yet another Monday in corporate wasteland, I will remember those happy blonde girls with their breast cancer awareness tee shirts. Bright little "save the tatas" pink shirts all skipping around campus. And I will try and save some of that energy in my pocket. For the nights like tonight. Where my own slowly sagging tatas need saving.

Stay young America.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Love in the time of Kardashians

I miss the simple days of love. Where you met. You married. You had children. There were still the same problems. Alcoholism. Infidelity. Domestic Abuse. Recession. Death. Taxes. But it was all veiled behind fabulous elbow length gloves, and low-tipped fedoras. No one really knew what was going on in your home. No one dared question you about your husband. Or your children. Those were private intimate things. For better or worse that’s just how it was. Today we have the absolute extreme opposite. And just as damaging as it is to live behind veils and lies, its equally damaging to be too open. Too exposed. Too naked. This is the struggle I have within myself constantly. How to keep pieces of myself private and protected. But also allow myself the comfort and personal freedom that comes with being totally open and honest about my life. Its very easy to “put it all out there.” Between twitter and facebook. Foursquare. .Tagged photos. Comments. Replies. Innuendos. You can pretty much expos...
2 comments
Read more

::No More Mondays::

Sometimes you find yourself at work, and you're having a particularly bad day. Your boss may be taking out some personal issue on you. You might be having some back-stabbing co-worker trying to come after your position. Maybe some slanderous office gossip. Or maybe just that all too familiar feeling of your life and soul wasting away as you stare blankly at an Excel spreadsheet on your screen. Whatever it is,we all have that "when I leave this place" fantasy in our head. You know,that day when you finally walk around the office,tell your boss EXACTLY what's been on your mind the past few years. Perhaps give a few co-workers the finger. Or a few notes on personal hygenie or whatever you've been DYING to say. My "last day" fantasy went a little bit like this: Me walking around the office. Two Middle Fingers in the air. Doing the whole "you're cool, you're cool,you're cool, fuck you I'm out." from Half Baked. Then I would pack up m...
1 comment
Read more

Sounds of the Pavement - My Hip Hop Testimonial

Dear Joe, Look at me,attending your old college. I almost cried walking through the hallways, wondering if you had classes in the same room that I was now sitting in. We used to talk endlessly about the importance of education. You hated that I was wasting my brain. You had the knowledge of life that only someone facing death has. That it is too short to waste, even one hour. You were so annoyed by my lack of urgency. Floating through life, half drunk. Spending enormous amounts of money on clothes and falling in love with every man who told me I was beautiful. You hated and envied my recklessness. And now you are gone and I have inherited your sense of urgency. I'm going to Rutgers full time, while still working full time at a horribly degrading restaurant. Your horror stories from the Cheesecake Factory resonate more soundly now. But, I can tolerate the servitude, because of classes like these. My Literature in Hip Hop class has me thinking more deeply about how music has been...
Post a Comment
Read more