Someone said, “Leighann, what’s your favorite romantic movie?” Believe it or not I’ve never been asked that before so I had to think about it for a second. My head tilted to the left, my eyes stared off into space, and my body went still. I do that sometimes when completely caught off guard. It looks like I’m processing a data download from My Mothership. “What’s my favorite romantic movie?” I was as shocked as anyone when I heard myself say, Hellraiser.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
One of my biggest fears is that I’ll get a Phone Call From Home in the Middle of the Night when I’m too far away to do anything about it and once again I’ll be angry that we still don’t have Star Trek transporter technology; and disgusted that we invest more time and money in restricting human movement then in facilitating it.
Thursday, January 22, 2015
|PHOTO BY JAMARI|
One day when I was waiting for the subway, a young woman with an expensive camera introduced herself as a Columbia University graduate student in its photojournalism program and asked permission to take my picture. If it was a scam – and I always think everything’s a scam – it sounded like a good one so I said, yes. When my train came and we were about to part ways I gave her my business card hoping she’d send me one of the pictures but equally sure I’d never hear from her again. But she emailed me that night and asked if I would be the subject of her day-in-the-life class project. Again, I said, yes.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
“If this is love I do not want it. Take it from me. Why does it hurt so?”
“Because it was real.”
We lost our dog, Rolie, last January 2nd. Everyone says it’s hard to lose a pet because their love is unconditional. That’s a nice sentiment but they clearly didn’t know my, Rolie. His Doggie Daddy often said, “Rolie has more personality than most people.” So true. His Lordship was moody, surly; and love – as he doled it out – was completely conditional and on his terms. This was puzzling since he had terrible separation anxiety and followed us around everywhere, but got annoyed when we did the same to him. When he felt crowded and wanted his space he’d up and leave – sometimes mid-tummy rub. And we were to consider ourselves dismissed.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
|Image courtesy of cuteimage |
One of the most well-known scenes from the Matrix is when Neo is told, “There is no spoon.” We can while away an afternoon discussing what that means, but the gist of it is: reality is not what it seems. A recent mind-bender for me was opening my silverware drawer and seeing that indeed, there were no spoons. Where the hell did all my spoons go?
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
The 25 Miles Per Hour Speed Limit is Killing Me
I am a Native New Yorker. That’s not a typo. It should to be capitalized. It’s not pride in an accident of birth but it’s staying here long after many friends and family members have pulled up stakes and moved to more hospitable climes. I survived 9/11, the mortgage meltdown, and a nanny mayor who would be king. I survived a house fire, Hurricane Sandy, and the Polar Vortex. But New York City’s 25 miles per hour speed limit has got me thinking about packing my bags.