Example of a Clever Saying When Congratulating a Pregnancy: Oh gross, he/she’s not always going to look like that, right?
Best New Yogurt Brand/Flavor: Rachel’s Exotic Mango Pineapple Passionfruit
Underrated Dance Move: The Shower
Oh, hello, friends. Look, I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I’m sorry about our time apart. I know you’re mad at me, and you probably don’t know if you’re ready to talk yet, but maybe giving each other space was good, because it allowed us to look within and decide what we really want out of this relationship, like Posh and David Beckham, or that other couple with all the adopted international babies.
But now that we’re back together, I’m really bringing it with a Diehard-esque vengeance. See, for the past few weeks i’ve been drowning in deadlines. An entire pre-school package for Boston Magazine, papers for my lit poetry class, a column for WD, this thing my mom wanted me to do in her garage, a 21st b-day extravanganza for a best family friend that involved PF Changs and something called a Buttery Nipple, etc. And that was driving me mad. But, fear not–as of today– everything has been completed and I am once again heading back to my father’s So-So Cal hacienda for some R and R,
awkward questions regarding just what i’m going to do with my life when i finally stop going to school quiet time with the fam, soul searching, iron pumping, free dinner scrubbing and, of course, some serious noveling. This time it’s all about the re- mixwrite. And to celebrate the occasion, please enjoy this poem I wrote about traveling entitled “Dad, Get me at the airport”, which has Ashberrian influences and is probably slated for publication in the Paris Review sometime next Spring:
Dad, Get me at the airport
words by Kevin Alexander
My flight gets in
Yeah, wow, as you may be able to tell, my poetry class is obviously paying dividends. Anyway, in honor of my second trip to So Cal I will be dropping entries every couple of days detailing my writing progress, the gentle way I order my In N Out Burgers, what obscure Scottish Mystery Novelist my father is now reading, and hilarious highlights of conversations I get myself into when I pretend like I know about surfing.
I’m so happy we‘re back together. Let’s never fight again.
I get knocked down,
but i get up again
PS- As an appetizer, something to get you in the SoCal mood and fluent in the SoCal lifestyle, I will let my man Malibu from American Gladiators expound on Burrough’s existentialism in postmodern lit, China’s role in the 21st century global market and “brewski’s”.