live blogging: new jersey afternoon

my boy said he forgets that when i'm with him, there's usually no new blog. so i'm making one for him. ta da.

i came to work with him even though it's in new jersey. there are some professional athletes who are kind of big, but there's also apple juice. and he bought me a sandwich.

i'm kind of sad for him because he has to work in florescent lights with a drop-in ceiling. i have to wear sunglasses to even be here, but i suppose there are trade-offs like all the juice you can drink and a coffee machine that speaks three languages.

i'm going to go draw him a picture and maybe look into this coffee contraption.

happy weekends all around.

~beatrix

deception

“Where should I put these shoes? In the trunk?”
“You can just put them in the back seat.”
“Yeah, but I should put them out of the way. How many people are coming with us?”
“This is it. Just us.”

I was confused. He’d said his brother and his girlfriend were coming. I know them. They are nice and familiar and I was prepared to count them as allies. Ted says he forgot to tell me they couldn’t come anymore.

Deep breaths. I tell myself I’ll be fine, but after 45 minutes in New Jersey (a place so strange you aren’t even allowed to pump your own gas), it really hits me.

“How did you convince me this was a good idea??”


~beatrix

p.s. i will be away for another wedding this weekend, but this time with harper. i absolutely cannot wait. i hope you have a nice weekend, too.
~b

what happens in teaneck. . .

I was dancing and squirming around in the bus shelter. It was freezing. And I had to pee. And I couldn’t feel my butt cheeks because I had tried sitting on the bench.

We’d waited in Blockbuster for a while, eating five different kinds of snacks that we bought for $8, making us consider going to Jersey to grocery shop. But now Blockbuster was closed, and we were stuck outside eating chocolate-covered pretzels, Milk Duds, Peanut M&Ms, Pringle-like chips, and Starburst.

We’d missed the second bus because it turned out that you needed to consult both a chart and a graphic to know how the 12:45 bus back to the city works. When I’d jumped around pointing “A bus! A bus!”? it didn’t turn the corner because it wasn’t our bus so much as because this wasn’t its stop.

We’d missed the first bus not so much because we’d taken a wrong turn so much as because we’d failed to take a right one. And it took us a while to figure out that the street we were on was curvy and dark and residential and not leading to the bus stop intersection.

We were in New Jersey in the first place for a party, which turned out to be full of old hippies. I’d done shots with men old enough to be my father, thrown things off the second floor balcony, and danced with a guy named Bob.

We both kept saying, “I don’t really feel drunk, but I know I must be.” And we must have been, because sober people do not get stuck in Teaneck, New Jersey at 1 o’clock in the morning.

I should have been worried and annoyed and anxious, but I wasn’t. I don’t think it’s because I was drunk either.

Alix is funny, and she thinks I’m funny. We have compatible tastes in junk food. She’s slutty enough to confide in, but not too slutty to trust.

Guys, I think I’ve made a girl friend.


~beatrix