A catalog of the stuff in my apartment
Sometimes I think it’s a shame I didn’t live in an era before modern orthodontics. I have naturally occurring straight teeth—no medical intervention went into the making of my smile—and I figure that back in pre-braces times this feature would have made me stand out, godlike, among the snaggletoothed masses. Of course, those days were […]
I remember next to nothing about visiting George Washington’s home, Mount Vernon, in Virginia when I was 9 years old. But I do remember the conversation my mother and I had with some Japanese tourists while we were lined up out front. I don’t know how the chat got started, though if I had to […]
August 6 was this blog’s first birthday. In the post that started off these discursive ramblings about the objects I live among, I tried out the Virgilian lottery—a form of soothsaying where you open Virgil’s works at random and whatever passage you land on is supposed to tell your fortune. So I flipped open my […]
According to our lease, my husband, my dog, and I live in a two-bedroom apartment. But the place clearly started out as a one-bedroom situation, until someone walled off part of the living room to create a small, closetless second bedroom, leaving only a tiny open area next to the kitchen to pass for a […]
Lately, I’ve been listening to a language-learning podcast to work on my Spanish. My husband, Frank, is a Spanish speaker, and when he’s angry, he really does rant in the mother tongue, à la Ricky Ricardo. I’d like to know what he’s saying about me. Besides, Frank has made an effort over the years to […]
When it comes to movies, I have always been fine with being told what to think. As a kid, I’d watch squabbling film critics Siskel & Ebert on their syndicated TV series, and I’d be utterly swayed by the simple certitude of their thumb-based pronouncements. In fact, whenever they gave a movie two thumbs up, […]
Back in the pre-pandemic era, I spent my weekday mornings at one of two coffee shops: 1.) Plowshares Coffee Roasters on Amsterdam Ave. between 125th and 126th streets or 2.) Dear Mama on the ground floor of Columbia University’s Jerome L. Greene Science Center at Broadway and 129th St. I have been working remotely—that is, […]
I grew up in a home with four women—my mom and three sisters—and they used up toilet paper like they had a vendetta against trees. In fact, we had a family rule that when one of us went to the store for any reason, that person was supposed to pick up a four-pack of Charmin […]
Toward the end of a beach vacation my family took when I was a kid, my parents let me pick out a souvenir at one of those overstuffed shops designed to help travelers remember the locations they visit by stocking up on shot glasses and refrigerator magnets made in China. I chose a set of […]
I have three sisters—an excessive quantity by contemporary standards, though far from the most egregious display of fecundity I’ve ever seen. That would have to be the Duggars, the conservative Christian fertility cultists–turned–reality TV stars famous for having 19 children and Lord only knows how many denim maxi dresses. As it happens, the family’s compound […]
Indirect Objects 