From when I was 8 until I was 17 my mother was a professor at a fancy schmancy private art college in the city. I used to love to go into work with her on Fridays, which I would be allowed to do only three or four times a year. We would catch a 5am direct train to Penn Station, grab pineapple and muffins from a cafe nearby, and I would munch on breakfast while watching her ink up test plates and grease up the presses. I loved the black and white checkerboard of the printshop floor, and to be honest I loved the attention I got from everyone there even more. One time, when I was 13 or so, I was wearing my favorite black turtleneck and looking lusty (and busty. My favorite shirt for a reason). I had just come out of the bathroom and my mother was talking to one of her students saying "oh yes, and my daughter is here..." but he seemed busy and preoccupied and didn't really give two shits about her personal life.

Odilon Redon, who my mother would have named me after if I had been a boy.

I was walking from the other direction and our eyes met and it was my first instance of "oh. chemistry." Although I'd been menstruating for three years already, suddenly it was very clear that I had become a woman. It was my first case of being attracted to a man in that sense and it was the first time I'd ever recognized attraction as being mutual. Our jaws mutually dropped and he just smiled reeeeal suavely and held out his hand, to introduce himself. When he told me his name I wasn't listening. I got completely lost in the tight little gap between his front two teeth, his hair that was longer and slightly wavy and perfectly blond.
Karen, you know my type. He personifies it.
Madre ran up and said "this is my daughter!" and he said, completely surprised, "this is your daughter?!"
We had that thing where you walk away from a person and both of you look behind you at the same time. And for a year afterward I had daydreams of living in an apartment with him in St. Mark's Place, holding our little blond baby up to my chest while sitting on a navy and white striped armchair with him looking on adoringly.

Well, after years of not thinking of him once, I suddenly looked him up on facebook.

I found him and, once I get back to NY, I'm going to bang him. I cannot wait.

Beat the dick like a motherfucking drummer chick.


-Camille