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Three Rooms
I have a theory. Three rooms. Three rooms is what two people need to survive in a relationship. It is why I can confidently say my past co-habitation attempts didn’t work. It wasn’t me or us. It was math. Simply not enough rooms. When I tell people this theory, they assume I mean a number of things that I don’t, such as that three rooms counts the kitchen, living and bathrooms. Three is in fact the number of bedrooms. Three rooms with windows and closets. Why three? Because one you share. Room one is your romantic cohabitation. It is the place you refer to when you say you love coming…
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An Ode to Getting Old
Somewhere on the way to my 40th birthday*, I must have stopped to tie my shoe or been delayed by traffic, figuratively speaking of course. The world seems to have skipped ahead leaving me way behind the times on everything from fashion to technology. When I see women wearing clothes with cut outs, I can only relate to them with memories of what I wore to my 8th grade dance. When I hear about some uproar on Instagram, I can’t remember if that’s the one with the likes, the tags or the filters. Or maybe, it’s all three. I’ve heard of people exploring their inner child. But right now, I’m…
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Maybe when
I’m convinced the Marshalls at Fullerton/Clybourn has the best fitting room glamour lighting in the city. All things seem possible in this fitting room. During this particular visit, I find a short black skirt. It’s got sequin stripes down each hip- fun yet subtle. I usually have trouble finding skirts so when I put this on and don’t immediately hate it, I feel optimistic. And when I think of all the times I wanted a skirt like this and didn’t have one, I know that this skirt needs to go home with me. The 10 fits lower on my hips and hides imperfections. But the 8 fits closer, the way it should probably fit. I choose the 8…