sitting on the runway of the pittsburgh international airport, ray asked me a question i can’t remember now, but my answer was, “no, new york is like that girl who broke my heart so bad. but i still love her.” he smiled at me sympathetically and then the plane took off.
i didn’t spend too much time in the city because it made me too sad & there was no time–we didn’t go to manhattan for even a second, just stayed on the long island/brooklyn side of things. my dad picked us up from the airport in his wood-paneled station wagon, we went back to the psychotically clean house that used to be mine, we ate cupcakes & giggled with my sister. we stayed at my mom’s house because i don’t want my dad to know i’m dating a boy since it would make him think that i’m “cured” in terms of queerness, and nothing could be further from the truth.
anyway. i like having someone to show oyster bay to; someone to kiss on the winding wall over the bay that my friends and i used to run on in junior high; someone new to laugh at my mom’s non sequiturs and my dad’s drunken stories. a lot of genuinely hilarious things happened, but i don’t think they’d be all that entertaining to read about on a blog.
my plane ticket was totally worth the price for this picture alone:
it’s me and my siblings jumping in the field of our old middle school, which is right behind the house we all grew up in.
i have more pics uploaded at my flickr page if anyone’s interested. now i am back home and glad to be here. pittsburgh is hot and muggy and manageable, and i’m just enjoying the quiet.