1. When a stranger is nice to me I often assume it's because they think I'm pregnant.
2. And while it hasn't happened in recent memory, when someone offers me a seat on the subway I waver between annoyance and being flattered that they think I'm young enough to be that fertile.
Things I would tweet but won't out of a growing fear of public pathetic-ness.
Also, please read my essay on Medium about my obsession and repulsion with my first NYC neighborhood. I could've just posted it here, but am trying out new platforms to see if I get any traction. Click the recommend button at the bottom if you are connected to me because I’m trying to be more self-promotional. Seriously. It’s hard.
I wouldn't have been able to remember half the details in that piece if I hadn't blogged (haha, no one said blogged in the '90s) about them at the time. If I want to write about now in 15 years I'm going to be screwed because my memory isn't worth shit and I don't describe my days anymore.
Maybe I'll start doing that thing where people write such things on bound paper.
One thought on “Dear Diary”
I just want to mention I am newbie to blogs and seriously loved this web blog. Very likely I’m going to bookmark your website . You definitely come with wonderful stories. Bless you for sharing your webpage.