Yeah, you heard me right.
They found out about the blog and didn’t seem to find the humor in it. On the contrary. The shit has hit the fan. And it sucks, to say the least. I didn’t even have a chance to pack my Miss Piggy sheets. Or snatch some Malomars for the road. Rob came spinning around the block in his nearly broken down Nissan Sentra to give me a ride to an old friend’s apartment in Queens. My parents hate me.
This really sucks on many levels. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt anybody. And if I made fun of my Mom’s animal patterned tracksuits, it’s because I thought that was funny. Perhaps I should have had more regard for the person wearing them. But, then again, I’m not a perfect. Just someone who has a penchant for words and humor in lieu of a job or apartment. I have to write about what’s in my head because I need to express myself to stay sane. And despite my Dad’s skill for below average tipping among other things, there is a person inside who cares about something.
I suppose I considered myself an observatory anthropologist of sorts. Perhaps a reckless journalist with a flair for dramatization. Perhaps I was selfish. I just never really thought anyone who knew them would read this. Especially them.
Well, here I am with a dog and a suitcase. Unsure of the future. Sad about how my parents must feel. They were kind to help me out as they did. And, I hope one day they will accept my offer to make a cameo appearance in the web series. Or when I win Mega Millions, perhaps they will accept my generous donation to the grocery bill.
In other, perhaps brighter news, the Kickstarter campaign is 96% funded in less than 6 days. If you can, share the link with your friends.
Next post will be about some of YOU generous folks who have supported the campaign.
Signing out – Myra and Vito in a strange outer borough apartment hearing the sound of the above-ground subway.