Wednesday April 20, 2016
Arden: Elliot, where did you get that ring?
Elliot: Why, you like??
Arden: Yeah, I like it a lot. It looks expensive.
Elliot: What does that mean?
Arden: Means it doesn’t look like something you’d buy.
Elliot: What the fuck?
Arden: I don’t mean it like an insult, I’m just saying.
Elliot: Well why don’t you stop speaking in fucking puzzles? What are you getting at?
Arden: Woah, pump the breaks, I’m just saying I like your ring and I didn’t expect you to have something like that. Because you don’t have a job. And I don’t think you’re dating someone? I don’t know, Elliot, fuck, just forget it.
Elliot: You’re jealous.
Elliot: You are. I fucking knew it. You can’t accept that I might have one thing that you don’t have.
Arden: That’s not true.
Elliot: No? Then I guess you won’t care if I tell you that Nanna gave me this ring.
Elliot: Yeah. She wanted me to have it. She gave it to me before she died.
Arden: Why the fuck did she give it you?
Tuesday March 8, 2016
The Artist’s Way
In my house we never had enough moments of pure ease–we had some tensions around the dinner table–us correcting dad’s grammar, one little one getting in trouble for skipping school again, the big on getting in trouble for wanting to leave the dinner table to go work on her homework, the middle one getting in trouble for slamming the door earlier.
“Eat what’s on your plate”
“Eat this or don’t eat”
If you don’t eat what’s on your plate, you can’t leave the table”
We couldn’t say we weren’t hungry–we couldn’t say we didn’t want the risotto or the second day fried spaghetti or the chicken scallopini or the veal fettine with lemon and parsley. How could we say we don’t want to eat these good things with you when you get mad at us for BREATHING.
“You should feel so lucky you get to eat like this”
“You should see what the other kids have to eat every night: pasta from a can, tuna salad sandwiches”
“But we like tuna”
“Not for dinner we don’t”
Some moments reeked of attempted ease.
A joke here–him trying to steal a fork full of meat off our plates when weren’t looking–a question about the neighbour’s dog.