Tonight my Iranian father-in-law is over cooking a classic feast, blasting our kitchen with wonderful Persian scents and telling little stories about his childhood. I’m waiting for things to come together. Our kitchen is small– too many cooks in there and it’s no good at all!
Remember that super, super jejune time when you were fresh out of wherever or whatever it was you came from and you were newly ready to Take It On and Go For It because Now Is The Time? Yeah, that. Oooohhh. I love that. Because the world is Here but it needs to Change? So beautifully cringing now. But I want more of that!
I drank my scotch and listened to Victoria and Christian discuss the pros and cons—but mostly the cons—of a liberal arts degree in a ruined economy.
Tons of white, a beautifully submerged Central Park, thick and light here, crystalized and dripping there, kids on sleds, their dads angling them just into position, just right, just here, okay, okay, now, “How do I steer this thing?” “Just pull on that rope, yeah, just like that. No, not like that, like this, see here? See, just pull like this. That’s all.”
When I was in high school I got scouted to model for Esprit. The company was (is?) based in San Francisco and did a lot of local looking around when it came to shooting for their campaigns. Continue reading
In my first few years of work at the Martin, I was occasionally assigned the men’s room. With the drape of my black-suited back to the white tiled wall, I took note of the ways and means of the men around me.