Recently I’ve been struggling with being an editor. It makes you think, maybe leadership isn’t in my future. Unfortunately for you, my readers, most of my guest writers have more going on in their lives than a blog and don’t have the time to send me their posts. Water under the bridge I guess. I have a part-time job and still post, but “apparently” that’s different.
I’m writing here from Boston MA. Visually, this past week has taken a toll on me. I think if I see one more piece of clothing from LL Bean I’m going to have to break the hotel window and throw myself onto the Boston highway.
Truthfully though, I know that it’s not the city’s fault and more of my own. I think the real problem, the root of it, is that I fit in more than I let on. Even while basking in my own ignorance, I know that my whole family wearing their Patagonia bags is not an uncommon sight in the great state of Massachusetts.
Many run ins with relatives and family friends over the past couple of days has really educated me on my WASP heritage. Not to get cocky, but I really think if the FBI contacted me and asked me to be an undercover agent in a rich, suburban part of the North East I would fit right in.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed that I’ve gained five followers on instagram, but it’s because my step aunts and cousins have joined the social circle. Networking!
One social demographic at a time, I knocked this one out of the park. Plus, my LA based cousin told me she was working towards getting a greyhound. You heard me right, yet another step towards becoming New England’s very own Kardashians.
If you’re wondering what my favorite part of the funeral was, I’d say if I had to choose, it was not my newfound instagram fame. Instead, it was one of my grandmothers neighbors. She came in slowly, putting her weight on a small stroller. I wondered, did she have a baby? Was it a stroller shaped walker? I looked inside, and to my surprise saw a weird fur vest.
I looked at it for a second, forgetting to offer her a noise maker, (my mom and aunt caught wind of this and made me stand facing the corner for the rest of the service). I had to restrain myself from jumping as the stroller’s contents began to move. Turns out, instead of clothing, it was two terrifying dogs. My mom later told me her and my aunt compared them to balls of drier lint, but in the moment they just looked like ancient creatures made of matted fur, eyes and teeth.
Throughout the ceremony I found myself staring, maybe subconsciously to make sure they were still there. They reminded me of the main character of the Bunnicula books, which in my memory told the story of a bloodthirsty bunny in pursuit of his owners. After looking it up, I found out that he “sucks the juice out of vegetables.”
Extremely disappointing, but that’s life. Much to my surprise, I made it out of there alive. Although- in Buffy the Vampire Slayer her friends get possessed by animals, so maybe I’m not in the clear yet.
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