After hanging up from my mom, I go to WeightWatchers. 122.8, same as last week. Thought I’d lost a little this week, but not unhappy to be the same. The streets are filled with people. Fruit and vegetable vendors dot every other corner. Only $13 buys two pounds of small purple grapes, one avocado, two red plums, a large box of strawberries, two small boxes of blueberries, and one container of raspberries. I'm feeling good. I get lost daydreaming about how nice it is to be skinny. I can finally wear clothes again. Come to a curb, and see two little boys, both about five, waiting on the corner for their nanny. I tell them not to cross until their nanny says it’s okay. They look at me and one says, “Thanks lady.” The other corrects him and says, “That’s not a lady, that’s a man.” With my stringy pin-straight hair, I don’t just look like an aging New Age hippie; I look like an aging, New Age male hippie. I get home and decide I’ll stay in and wash grapes. Tomorrow I get to wash my hair and reclaim my femininity.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
overheard on the street (lyn)
Beautiful day. Sunny skies. Warm, but not overly so. First news of the day is good. My dad, who has been in the hospital since last Monday (9 days ago), is being released today. He has had an infection of a salivary gland, called parotitus. He's charmed the doctors and nurses with his good humor, positive attitude, and adjustment to hospital life. After all, this is his first overnight in one, ever, and he'll be 87 in September. But he's feeling great, the infection has been treated with antibiotics, and he's glad to be home.
After hanging up from my mom, I go to WeightWatchers. 122.8, same as last week. Thought I’d lost a little this week, but not unhappy to be the same. The streets are filled with people. Fruit and vegetable vendors dot every other corner. Only $13 buys two pounds of small purple grapes, one avocado, two red plums, a large box of strawberries, two small boxes of blueberries, and one container of raspberries. I'm feeling good. I get lost daydreaming about how nice it is to be skinny. I can finally wear clothes again. Come to a curb, and see two little boys, both about five, waiting on the corner for their nanny. I tell them not to cross until their nanny says it’s okay. They look at me and one says, “Thanks lady.” The other corrects him and says, “That’s not a lady, that’s a man.” With my stringy pin-straight hair, I don’t just look like an aging New Age hippie; I look like an aging, New Age male hippie. I get home and decide I’ll stay in and wash grapes. Tomorrow I get to wash my hair and reclaim my femininity.
After hanging up from my mom, I go to WeightWatchers. 122.8, same as last week. Thought I’d lost a little this week, but not unhappy to be the same. The streets are filled with people. Fruit and vegetable vendors dot every other corner. Only $13 buys two pounds of small purple grapes, one avocado, two red plums, a large box of strawberries, two small boxes of blueberries, and one container of raspberries. I'm feeling good. I get lost daydreaming about how nice it is to be skinny. I can finally wear clothes again. Come to a curb, and see two little boys, both about five, waiting on the corner for their nanny. I tell them not to cross until their nanny says it’s okay. They look at me and one says, “Thanks lady.” The other corrects him and says, “That’s not a lady, that’s a man.” With my stringy pin-straight hair, I don’t just look like an aging New Age hippie; I look like an aging, New Age male hippie. I get home and decide I’ll stay in and wash grapes. Tomorrow I get to wash my hair and reclaim my femininity.
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