Showing posts from May, 2014

having fun by myself

It occurred to me a few months ago that other people watch movies and TV shows by themselves.

I know, I know, this is the sort of epiphany that isn't supposed to be an epiphany, in that class of Realizations Adora Has Way Too Late (like "Three left turns make a right? WHAAAAAT?" as my classmate patiently taught me me how to make my robot turn in my comp sci and engineering class, or learning how to tie my shoes when I was...uhhh...older than 10, or finally doing precalc over the summer before my senior year).

But this realization has deeper roots than sucky spatial reasoning or laziness in the shoe-tying department or math avoidance. Consciously thinking, "Huh, other people watch stuff for entertainment by themselves" made me reflect on why I don't.

One of my neighbors, around my age, has a TV in his own room...and in almost every other room of his house. My family owns a grand total of one TV, so out of necessity turning on the TV at all has been a family…

This House

Yes, it’s stupid, but I wanted this to be the house To go to for Thanksgiving when I’m 30, After all, this is the house where I slept with boys for the first time, In those platonic fumbling moments during “co-ed” sleepovers, And told horror stories on a creaky bed at 3 AM. This is the house where I told my first crush that I liked him, In the unjudging darkness of my pink-walled room, The eyes of wooden dolls looking down benevolently At my hopeful, hopeless six-year-old self.
This, the house whose nooks and crannies I knew Like the curves of the handle of my suitcase, Where I could fling the door open after getting home on a red-eye flight And pad across the hall in a millisecond flat to jump on my twin bed. The floor in the entranceway is a black-and-white chessboard, And it occurs to me when I walk on it with sockless feet That there’s no other place where cold marble is so welcoming. I’ve come back so many times, that I can ride the curve of the freeway winding into this city in…