Be mean. Be mean. Be mean. I whisper to the mirror. My meeting with Marilu is in five minutes and I need to convert my anger into verbal fuel. I contort my face into the position I kept it in as a teenager. I look like a real B-I-T-C-H. Good. I grab my keys and head out the door.
When I was in high school, I fell in love with a man named Lucas. He was older than me, wore all black and drove a motorcycle. But I knew Lucas and I would never end up together. For one, I was awkward and scared of anything I thought could get me pregnant and for two he was a fictional character from the movie Empire Records.
“If you were stranded on an island and could only bring three things what would they be?” I hated playing this game in summer camp. Do your parents count as two things? What kind of outlets does this island have? Do they speak a different language? Will there be boys there? The answers didn’t really matter because I always ended up choosing the same things; my parents, beanie baby collection and stuffed dog, Lucky. Read the rest of this entry »
Sprinting through the airport, I vowed to start exercising the second I got to Taiwan. There are multiple reasons why I hate running through airports, first and foremost: my travel backpack. As if my 5′ 2” frame and chronic baby-weight don’t already make me look like high schooler, running with a backpack surely seals the deal. Read the rest of this entry »
I love living in New York more than anything I have ever loved (including peanut butter, small bows and a well-made vodka martini), but I need to get out.
MARINAvsWriting 