When I was seventeen and attending a Pearl Jam concert, I was concerned that I was uncool because I had never been to Europe or had a boyfriend. Also, my pants were usually wrong, one way or another. At last night’s Pearl Jam show, I was afraid I was uncool because I am old. Thirty-three. How times change.
Read More Before I Get OldThe record I chose tonight was Prokofiev. I bought it for the mandarin orange and butterscotch yellow design on the jacket. I was stirring up spaghetti sauce and classical music seemed like the thing. I didn’t really think about what Prokofiev was. He was, on this record, spanking loud full symphony sawing away. Most of […]
Read More LoudSparkly eyeshadow and inky, aerodynamic eyebrows peer at me over my boyfriend’s shoulder, as he hugs the glam rock guy and says hello. This is reassuring. Sparkly eyeshadow on a man is so reassuring. I had left the house that evening feeling jittery. Through the wonders of the internet, I was aware that six blocks […]
Read More Made Up
Going On 