In college I had a girlfriend whose father owned a pretty nice Italian restaurant with his brother. The mother would take me there for dinner on the nights my girlfriend was waitressing and I’d wait for her to finish her shift. The ravioli in cream sauce with lobster claw and asparagus was my favorite. The first time I went there my girlfriend’s uncle tried to “get to know me.” Where are you from, he asked. I told him. Hmph, he said. What’s your ancestry, he asked. Mainly Russian and English, I said, with a little bit of German. Pretty bland, he said. Later I said to my girlfriend, I don’t think your uncle liked me. That’s because your touching his brother’s daughter, she said. Yes, I said, I am.
The other night I dreamt that I told everyone how I really felt. It didn't go very well. I was all messed up emotionally the next day, as if it all really happened, the dream crossing over into "reality." It's happened before. Like one time I dreamt my best friend died and when I woke up I was actually crying.
I like how in certain fonts question marks look like Soviet sickles.
I was engaged to be married once. It didn't work out. I came home from work one day and there was a note: I'm freaking out. Went to my mothers. I'll call you later. And that, essentially, was that. Though I can't really blame her. I had a lot of problems. Depression. Anger. So did she.
I use this online grocery store to do my food shopping. You pick out what you want and can more or less choose your delivery date and time. It cost a little more than regular grocery stores, but you get the convenience of not having to actually go to the store. So, you know, I got that going for me.