Mommy, Why are There So Many Chicken Bones in the Street?
I found out that answer today while riding home on the subway. A regular commuter man got on with a greasy paper bag. He promptly pulled out a piece of fried chicken and started eating it. He tried to get most of it in the bag so as not to leave a mess, but then he had to rush off at the Market East stop and left behind a forlorn wing. It seems particular to Philadelphia to see these chicken bones lying against the curb or on the sidewalk, and now I have seen it happen myself. I also watched an old couple, small and stooped over about the size of fourth-graders step carefully on the train and sit next to a gigantic black man who looked like he was a little mortified, as though someone might think they were all traveling together.
The little black dog from my neighbor's house has disappeared. I noticed a couple of days ago that the barking had stopped and then I peered over the wall and saw that everything had been cleared away; the canvas, the dog bowl, the bone. Avis and her friends were in the back playing when I got home today (and still are), so I asked her about Moxe. She said that her mom gave her away to someone who had a bigger yard. I confess that I am relieved. She was a sweet dog, but didn't ever get walked or played with and was miserable. I choose to believe that she's really in a better place.
They keep getting these pets and then not being able to care for them. Remember the cat Diego? I heard a squawk outside when I got home and thought, Oh, God, now they have a parrot! Luckily, it was just the kids playing.
They are currently still out back playing restaurant. I gave them some blue plastic cups, a spatula, a tray, and a few random cans of things to add to the mix. Every once in a while, they'll yell my name and I have to go out there and see what's going on. For instance, they just called me and I went out there and they all jumped up and said, Surprise! and handed me a tray with Cheetos and cookies on it. I am the most popular lady in the neighborhood, truly.
Tonight, Kelly and I are going to the Temple v. Navy game because Liz so generously offered tickets. I love college football, but I don't know if I will love this game because Temple is so so bad.
Julie was helping me look for outfits to wear to my readings (State College of Jan. 23 and U of N. Texas on Feb. 12). I have decided that I'm allowed to spend some money on something nice. I wish, wish someone would give me a free ticket to shop at Nannette Lepore who has the coolest (and most expensive) clothes. But we found some good things at Anthropolgie and J. Crew (not counting the crew neck short sleeved tunic Julie picked out. I had to ask her if she thought I was supposed to be impersonating Shakespeare). She also suggested that my next project be a teen book, ala Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Bloom. I guess I could try that, but I feel like my readers would be appalled (especially if I wrote from experience) and become suicidal. You could not pay me enough money to go back and be fourteen years old again.
The little black dog from my neighbor's house has disappeared. I noticed a couple of days ago that the barking had stopped and then I peered over the wall and saw that everything had been cleared away; the canvas, the dog bowl, the bone. Avis and her friends were in the back playing when I got home today (and still are), so I asked her about Moxe. She said that her mom gave her away to someone who had a bigger yard. I confess that I am relieved. She was a sweet dog, but didn't ever get walked or played with and was miserable. I choose to believe that she's really in a better place.
They keep getting these pets and then not being able to care for them. Remember the cat Diego? I heard a squawk outside when I got home and thought, Oh, God, now they have a parrot! Luckily, it was just the kids playing.
They are currently still out back playing restaurant. I gave them some blue plastic cups, a spatula, a tray, and a few random cans of things to add to the mix. Every once in a while, they'll yell my name and I have to go out there and see what's going on. For instance, they just called me and I went out there and they all jumped up and said, Surprise! and handed me a tray with Cheetos and cookies on it. I am the most popular lady in the neighborhood, truly.
Tonight, Kelly and I are going to the Temple v. Navy game because Liz so generously offered tickets. I love college football, but I don't know if I will love this game because Temple is so so bad.
Julie was helping me look for outfits to wear to my readings (State College of Jan. 23 and U of N. Texas on Feb. 12). I have decided that I'm allowed to spend some money on something nice. I wish, wish someone would give me a free ticket to shop at Nannette Lepore who has the coolest (and most expensive) clothes. But we found some good things at Anthropolgie and J. Crew (not counting the crew neck short sleeved tunic Julie picked out. I had to ask her if she thought I was supposed to be impersonating Shakespeare). She also suggested that my next project be a teen book, ala Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Bloom. I guess I could try that, but I feel like my readers would be appalled (especially if I wrote from experience) and become suicidal. You could not pay me enough money to go back and be fourteen years old again.
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