If you should find yourself lost in Rhode Island, I suggest you call my father. He’s retired, but if he had a resume I’m sure ‘Rainman-like ability for maps and directions’ would be listed as a skill. (Other skills would include 'Unlikely use of pipe cleaners to repair things,’ 'Fashioning musical instruments from toilet paper tubes,’ and ‘Reinventing leftovers such as "tuna can juice soup" and "spaghetti pizza."') My father has a deep love of efficiency and, apparently, getting from Point A to Point B is always best by taking a route. I, on the other hand, prefer visuals and landmarks. …
Every year in early October I drag out my cache of winter gear. It includes what looks to be a giant sleeping bag with arms impersonating a coat, pink wool booties knitted by my grandmother, a DVD of a crackling fire (that will play continuously on my living room television for the subsequent six months) and a large, worn collection of fuzzy tights. My boyfriend, at the first seasonal sighting of said leggings, will heave a heavy sigh and say ruefully, "Legs, see you in the spring." What can I say? I get cold. Really cold. I've survived thirty-six years in New England and every 12 months I …
The great painter Willem de Kooning once said, "The trouble with being poor is it takes up all your time." Turns out he was right. Just the other night it took me four hours to sort my stray pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters, then jam them into those enragingly small and clumsy coin rolls for a grand sum of $42. (Fortunately, I was catching up on reruns of 'Firefly' at the same time so it's almost like I got paid to watch television. Oh, to dream…) Also this month, I spent approximately five to six hours digging through boxes of junk that I had abandoned in my mother's basement, pulling …
