Reading The Tea

I hate being sick. I especially hate the long, drawn-out kind of sick where I forget that it’s different to be well. I’m in that kind of sick right now — well enough to go to work, but sick enough that I’m a little stupid and slow while I’m there. Well enough to want to go to dance classes and hang out with friends, but sick enough that I go home and go to bed instead. Everything is kinda foggy. Ok, back to work and my mint tea. (I warned you that this post had no substance.) 

Today it smells like it’s cold outside, and warm inside. It’s probably just the heaters getting going, but it makes me feel like tea and soup and knitting and blankets and holiday cookies and curling up in my blue chair with a book.

I’m currently reading a SlipStream Anthology:

It has many short stories that flirt with borders between literary, sci-fi and fantasy subgenres. A conversation from a blog post where several writers debate the definition of “SlipStream,” and whether it’s a necessary term is interspersed.

My friend Adam, known to some as “Fair Coz,” has opened a lovely bookstore in Fort Greene/Park Slope. For all you bibliophiles, I highly recommend that you check it out. When you walk in, you’re instantly immersed in books, with loose categorizations and intriguing possibilities — the perfect place for finding books that you desperately need, you just didn’t know it yet. The first time I was there I went home with a lovely full-color Pilobolus Alphabet book. Another time I met an antique how-to book on baseball. Having never developed an understanding of the classic american sport, it almost seduced me, but that time I held strong, and took a couple of novels home with me instead. If you’re ever at a loss, Adam or the lovely Emily are there to guide you through your book-finding adventure. I urge all to go to the Grand Opening Celebration this Sunday. (Though the store has been open since June, this is the celebration.) I’ve heard rumors of refreshments available, and many local authors are giving readings.

Schedule of Readings/Performances

12:00 – 1:00 : Rick Pernod, Andrea Baker, Bronwen Tate

1:00 – 2:00 : Jenn Guitart, Tisa Bryant, Lynn Xu

2:00 – 3:00 : Christopher Myers, Erika Howsare, Jackie Delamatre

3:00 – 4:00 : Will Hubbard, Jess DeCourcy Hinds, Amber West

4:00 – 5:00 : Eve Packer, Holly Tavel, Fred Schmalz

5:00 – 6:00 : Mac Wellman, Erin Courtney, Jonathan Ceniceroz

6:00 – 7:00 : Anika Haynes, Gareth Lee, Brenda Iijima

7:00 – 8:00 : Luisa Guigliano, Jennifer Hayashida, Christopher Stackhouse

8:00 – 9:00 : Bonnie Emerick, Amy King, Adam Tobin

Adam’s Books 718.789.1534

456 Bergen St. 11217 (between 5th Ave. & Flatbush)

After changing my work e-mail signature to reflect my new title, it hit me: “This looks like it belongs to a grown-up!” Taking a step back, I guess that to an outsider, I do look like an adult. I’m done with college. I have a job with lots of responsibility. I’m married with two lovely cat-children. I pay bills. I go out for drinks with people and attend dinner parties. What more is there?

Yet still, somehow I don’t feel like a grown-up. Our society is lacking in that moment, that ritual, that lets you know that you have achieved adulthood. Wikipedia tells me that Arnold van Gennep, a pioneer in the field of folklore, divided rites of passages in three sections, preliminary, liminaire, and postliminaire (separation, limbo, and incorporation). Traditionally in our society we leave our parents’ home around the age of 18. We have the separation from childhood, but I can’t think of a clear point where one is brought into adulthood. Are you an adult during college? After graduation? During your first job? When summer associates are with us, recruiters sometimes refer to them as “kids,” yet they’re often in their late 20’s, with advanced degrees.

But maybe I’m coming at this wrong. Why would it be important to have a feeling of being a grown-up? Should there be a marked moment of change, or does life just flow on?