February 25, 2005
February 22, 2005
Every Man’s Dilemma
My co-worker asked if My Cousin the Actor knows Brad Pitt. When I said yes, she almost fainted.
Then, I took everyone’s sandwich orders and twenty-dollar bills and made a trip to Quizno’s. On the way, I was thinking about that last conversation when a man stopped me on the sidewalk.
Man: You must be thinking happy thoughts!
Me: Really? Why?
Man: Because you smilin’ from ear to ear. Whatchoo thinkin’ ‘bout?
Me: (Mishchievous smile.) Brad Pitt.
Man: (Throws his arms in the air.) How am I ‘xpected to find a woman when every woman in this country walkin’ around smilin’ and thinkin’ ‘bout Brad Pitt???
Me: Hm. You’ve got a point.
February 15, 2005
Day in Transit
One day, when I own a car, I’ll miss my days of public transportation.
February 10, 2005
No Way!
Just before entering my senior year of college, I spent the summer of 1999 in Italy with a group of art students. We traveled with big canvases, paint palettes, drawing boards, and many more things that didn’t fit into backpacks. During the day we’d scatter throughout piazzas and museums and create art; in the evenings we’d come together, with our two talented profs, and offer constructive criticism to each other. I have so many stories from that trip.
Going into that atmosphere, most of the students were strangers to me, but I connected deeply with a handful of them. Heather is one of them. Another one was Serena, who was a brilliant artist with an extremely generous and intelligent spirit. Serena and I only had a few quality interactions, but I really looked up to her.
Anyway, the trip ended, school began. My senior year was really crazy. I didn’t interact with anyone who wasn’t in the graphic design department, but every once in a rare while I’d see my fellow travelers and we’d gush.
I also worked in a video store. Once, Serena walked in; we gushed. She told me she had just been to Chicago for an interview and would probably move there after graduation. Then she added, “You would love Chicago! It’s totally your kind of city. You should consider moving there.” Of course at the time I had my sights set on NYC and was like WHO moves TO CHICAGO?
Funny thing happened, and months later I found myself living in Chicago. I dug through my travel diary and found Serena’s e-mail address, so I e-mailed her in my first month living here. We chatted briefly by telephone, we postponed making plans because I was so unsettled, then she told me to stop by her work sometime. Many months later, post-settled, I tried to contact her, but her number was disconnected and any e-mails bounced back.
Fortunately I remembered where she worked, so anytime I was in that neighborhood, I’d stop by -- but my timing was always wrong. She was never there when I was. And the last time I stopped by, they said she wasn’t working there anymore. So, eventually, I stopped looking for her.
Four years and some months have passed since my move to Chicago.
This morning -- THIS MORNING! -- I was running late to work. I was rushing through the turnstile at my El stop when I heard, “Mojan?” I looked up. It took me a second, but, “OH MY GOD, SERENA??” We hugged and had the most quality conversation I’ve ever had in two minutes. She said she never, ever takes that route to work and it was just a fluke accident that she ended up there! Funny, because I never, ever take that train to work, either.
Our serendipitous meeting immediately brought me back to that summer in Italy -- to piazzas and pizzas, paint palettes and group critiques, and beautiful, quiet mornings in the hills of Tuscany.