family

reason #567 how you know you're living in nyc and still figuring your life out

in

dearest mother and father,


my birthday is coming soon. remember how i asked for that beautiful purse? forget it.

please send the most durable bed-bug protector covers you can find along with a high quality vacuum.

and don't be surprised if i ask for new bedding come Christmas time. 

this morning, in between the snooze button pushes, i dreamt of the bugs. and then i woke to find one on my bed. 

right now i would very much like to be rescued. 

love, 
your daughter

the kennedy photo.

in




i was looking through old photos tonight, trying to decide if i should update the header of the blog--just for a bit of a change (because change can be good) and i was struck by this photo of my parents.

my mom was beautiful. always. of course.

but in this photo i was taken by how handsome my father was. he still is. of course. but here, he looks so darn confident and sure of himself. 

i hereby dub this my father's kennedy photo.

kennedy photo? i know, confusing.

let me explain.

i took a picture of my cousin this year and it came out so well, we decided it was his kennedy photo, thereby coining the term. meaning: in the photo one looks handsome, all-american, and full of promise (and a lot like a would-be-politician). if you've looked at enough photos of bobby and john then you know just what i'm talking about. the point is...having your own kennedy photo is a very good thing. 

i look at this photo and i think, of course my parents fell in love. and i'm lucky enough to know the aftermath of "happily ever after" and let me go on record as saying, yes, it's good. it's very, very wonderful.

mom. dad. i love you both so much. thanks for being exactly who you are. (and for passing on some pretty okay genes).

rain, rain, come and play...

in , , ,

there's a slight, steady rain here in new york today.


which means i'm destined for a walk through central park.

where, for just a moment, i'll allow myself the luxury of pretending it's the villa borghese in rome.

but for now i'm in bed.

listening to an ever so slight pitter-patter. lost in a book. and dreaming of an unknown future.





this photo is from 
a trip to rome in 2005
with my mom and dad.
my mom and i pictured outside
the villa borghese gallery.

happy birthday dad

in ,




Today is my father's birthday. It's a big one.

I don't know if he'd want me to say, which one.

Oh hell...he's turning 60. 

And I think that's pretty amazing.

Because the truth is...my dad is my dad. 

And I love him so much. And I love him even when the words don't come easy.



"His hair turned gray that winter. I thought it was snow.  He promised us that everything would be OK. I was a child, but I knew that everything would not be OK.  That did not make my father a liar.  It made him my father."

"Gerald smiled at me in the rearview mirror and asked if we wanted any music. I asked him if he had any kids. He said he had two daughters...'Are they both special?' He cracked up and said, 'Of course their pop is gonna say they're special.' 'But objectively.' 'What's that?' 'Like, factually. Truthfully.' 'The truth is I'm their pop.'

from extremely loud and incredibly close