There MIght Be Dragons

Two.

In ancient times cartographers had little knowledge of the real geography of the world. After drawing what they knew they simply declared that beyond that point there were only dragons. I have always taken pride in the great relationship I have with myself. Growing up with a sister who thinks she's too cool for you and a mother who didn't bother much to get to know her kids I pretty much had a lot of time to dedicate to my musings, to read and question, prone to introspection. As a result, I know myself very well. And for this I am supremely grateful. I don't tweak easily, fortitude is my talent and I am aware of my limitations. I know what to do when the first signs of mean reds appear, I know to steer clear of other people when I get into my funks, and I know the only way to get rid of the funk is to let it run its course. For some people standing on their head and twisting into a pretzel is their go to problem solver. Not me.

After thirty five years of roaming the Earth I have probably gotten myself into more than my fair share of trouble. I have lived what seems two or three different lives. I have succumbed to wanderlust on more than one occasion, knowing full well this makes others deem me irresponsible, (my mother)unstable, (my employers), inconsistent (my shrink), unreliable,(my love interests) and lacking direction (my worried friends). But I know myself. And I know what makes me happy and it's easy to dismiss those people when at least you're having fun. Doing exactly what I want when I want has been my super power, and with my super power comes my super responsibility. The responsibility of not dragging anyone into any experiment gone awry, the responsibility of damage control when the aforementioned doesn't pan out. What I'm getting at is I have always had my scenarios down, and what to do about them in case of. I know my geography. Until now.

Forget the minor things. Being fat and a gross 34DD for the first time, the embarrassment of throwing up into my own bag in the middle of the street in New York, or the way the town car driver shamed me after a particularly bad throw up even though his own wife is pregnant too. ( "But your wife throws up too , right?" "Not like deees."). Smelling danger in the wind and every garbage can within a mile radius, suddenly deciding deviled eggs are a good dinner choice. All the oddities seem small in comparison to the MOOD SWING. Who am I? Why the waterworks? I run a mental checklist of things that I have always been thankful for. They are all still there, plus a cute baby on the way! I am still incredibly lucky, and yet I have never felt more miserable. I share this with my friend Adriana. "I think I have a mental disease", I type into my iPhone. The screen flashes back a response "Your mental disease is called HORMONES, stupid." After a big teary blowup with my procreational partner and victim that same night I decide she's right. I have just never been here, I don't know what any of this will be like. This exceeds the realm of the me I know so well, these are my dragons.

Mom vs Boy

one.


THE YEAR OF B

-"You definitely need to be in fashion", declared my friend and Ralph Lauren Director, Wendy. We were brainstorming possible career paths for me, not mere jobs, but somewhere where I could actually grow and focus. Sitting across from each other at a communal table at Le Pain Quotidien I vented my life's frustrations. My fear of missing out on my vocation, of not being able to make something of myself away from my past life as an attorney.
Back then I was working at the intensive care unit of a kid's hospital, helping out with their research and clinical trials. I had been there for a year and a very intellectually stimulating one, but I felt like a fish out of water, on the medical short bus, and my creative side was being starved. This led to reevaluating it all. And so it was decided that Wendy would look for something in fashion PR within Ralph Lauren and I would actively seek out job opportunities I found interesting. "It's gonna be great", she said. "It will be like, the year of B."
I quit my research job, not as happily as I thought I would, and took a PR summer job in New York City. It was a pretty legit firm, doing PR mostly for music and film. I had visions of myself becoming a competent and sought after publicist who as if my magic made things happen, or made them go away. I would go to work in pencil skirts and Louboutins again. I would commute on the train with all the suits. This was it, a new chapter, a new adventure, a new challenge. I was ready to take on the city. It was, after all, the year of B.

A week later I found out I was pregnant.



There was once a little plus sign,
that created some division,
and some symptoms that included,
nausea and a blurry vision.

Then along came the swelling,
and the absence of my waist,
my boobs like watermelons,
in my mouth a tinny taste.

If I had had x ray vision,
what is it that I would see?
myself as a Russian Matryoshka,
a mini doll inside of me?

In my head so many questions,
who , what, me , mother to-be?
after all of this is over,
will there be some normalcy?

I panic about everything,
from stretch marks to my career,
that stray thought from months ago,
that stray thought is REALLY here.

Lola's Life is a Video Game

Washington Commons, NYC


Lola is tugging at her leash. I can feel it coming. She's revving up her inexplicably strong twenty five pound dog body to chase something. I am usually prepared for this in autumn, when the leaves fly around or sit in huge piles by the side of Orchard Place, my Connecticut street. But today she seems to be going after something else, the pink petals that have fallen from the trees that line Horatio street in New York. They are tiny, even less attainable than the big dry leaves she chases in the fall. It's like Lola's life is a video game, and like in said games she is now on a new level where the dynamic of the game is still the same (i.e. chasing something presently out of her reach) only the level of difficulty has been increased. Lola is unwittingly conveying a message of mockery. My life is a video game.