running away and making pound cake
Last weekend I went to this place in Bethesda, MD called The Writer's Center for a celebration/launch of a new book called Already Gone.
The book is a collection of 40 stories — some real, some fiction — about running away.
Wow. It just occurred to me that I should link the book's title to the publisher's page, in case anyone wants to buy it. So I typed "Already Gone book" into my browser. All top the results were for a book called "Already Gone: Why your kids will quit church and what you can do to stop it." Behold:
LOLOL. Let me tell you why your kids will quit church: IT'S BORING. You know what you can do to prevent your kids from quitting church? NOT A DAMN THING. Maybe if you want your kids to go to church so badly, tell them they're not allowed to go.
Anyway.
Here (publisher's site) is the book I'm talking about:
The event was fun. My friend Deesha read her (fictional) story about running away, and I loved it. There were cookies and champagne, and I come home with a signed copy of the book.
On the way home, I started thinking about the times I had run away. Like my Irish exit out of San Francisco. And leaving Chicago a year after I finished college, because I was so clinically depressed I could barely get out of bed. Going on tour was sort of like running away. Nothing was different when I got back, but for a few weeks I could forget my regular life.
And then there's the time, in 8th grade, when I was far too old for this kind of behavior, that I got angry at my parents (I don't remember why), and announced that I was running away. I put the leash on the dog, filled up a plastic Giant bag with tennis balls, and marched out of the house in a huff. Didn't pack a suitcase, didn't fill a bandanna with supplies and tie it to the end of a long stick, didn't bring a water bottle because we didn't drink water back then. All I took with me was the dog, who was psyched for a walk, and her tennis balls. We were one block away from home when my father drove up alongside us, laughing. I was furious, but I had made whatever point I had been trying to make, so we got in the car and went home.
Maybe I was trying to get out of going to church.
Links
There have been all kinds of news stories lately about... population decline? In Why millennials are dreading becoming mothers (Vox) it sounds like these women understand just how HARD motherhood is. Unlike so many women I know who seemed genuinely shocked at all the horrible stuff that happened to them during and after pregnancy.
Like getting Mom Feet. (Atlantic)
Related: Don't let climate anxiety stop you from having kids is worth the read for this bit: "maybe what you're saying is that you are basically another Dalai Lama, renouncing one of life's greatest experiences for the sake of the manatees, while I, with my heedless, profligate, Amazon-warehouse-emptying brood, am like a guy scarfing an Arby's Bacon Ranch Cheesesteak in front of a vegan." (The Cut)
Meanwhile, George Santos is getting rich off Cameo, as Fetterman plays him. (Semaphor)
You know how you can take your plastic bags back to Safeway or wherever for recycling? It's all lies. They just throw them out, so you might as well fill said plastic bags with actual garbage. (ABC News)
Juilliard jazz drummer hears and plays Nirvana for the first time, figuring out the drum parts in real time. This whole video is awesome. (Open Culture)
Saint Margaret was the daughter of a pagan priest who embraced Christianity, "consecrated her virginity to God," was disowned by her father, adopted by her nurse, ran away to herd sheep, got tortured and swallowed by Satan, managed to escape, and then was put to death. My mother probably just thought it was a nice Irish name. (Instagram)
Cannot wait to go to Vermont once winter's over. (Frommers)
I drink water and mind my business. (Kottke)
Cute aardvark. Also: Snack Vacuum is my new band name. (Boing Boing)
A Garnet Hill lady does MDMA. (McSweeney's)
Custodian warns it may take months to remove cashmere sweaters from George Santos' office. (Onion)
My favorite (unexplainable) thing this week: "I'mma show you how to make a pound cake." Someone please interview both of them on a podcast and give them a record deal and reality show ASAP. (TikTok)