It’s not quite love and it’s not quite community; it’s just this feeling that there are people, an abundance of people, who are in this together. Who are on your team. When the check is paid and you stay at the table. When it’s four a.m. and no one goes to bed. That night with the guitar. That night we can’t remember. That time we did, we went, we saw, we laughed, we felt. The hats.
28 April 2014
From "The Opposite of Loneliness" -
26 April 2014
My favorite passage from the story:
"My mother was a philosopher and a pushpin heiress who grew up in Washington, DC. Her family was in the government. They were spies. Often dismissed as a lightweight by those who didn't know any better, my mother was in fact the ballast. But she played along; she was elegant, a little distant, people thought she was cold, but she wasn't, she just wasn't interested in nonsense. She was a philosopher living a life of the mind in the middle of a cocktail party that never ended. We used to tease her and say that she kept a party in her purse; a scarf, a brush, a lipstick—she could make herself quite glamorous in two minutes or less. As a couple, my parents were passionate and charming. I was often alone at the center of a movable feast."