Four years ago, I packed all my worldly possessions into a brand new Toyota Corolla and moved to Chicago. I sent this email on my first day as an Illinois resident.
“well, not your doppelganger exactly, but somebody who sort of looks like you, except shorter and with carly simon’s speaking voice (that is, it she’s got a semi-raspy perpetual ‘do you have pneumonia?’ voice), pictured here: [...] and i was trying to prove to her that i knew somebody who kinda sorta looked like her [...]
Five fucking years.
No end in sight.
Unbelievable.
Digging through an old directory of things I had written, I came across this. I don’t remember writing it. More importantly, I don’t remember what I was thinking when I wrote it.
My cultural identity is intimately and inextricably tied to my family life. Central Pinellas County was not and still isn’t a raving hotbed of cultural integration, and what with my parents’ desire that we go to good (that is, affluent, and as a consequence, mostly white) schools and our decade-long membership in a (again, mostly [...]
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