Bella B
My day started at 6:15 when my partner got up for work. I used to bolt upright when the first alarm went off at 5:30 and run to make coffee, now I laze a little until it's time to say goodbye. I like getting up early on the weekends. I tell myself I'm going to an AA meeting at 9:30 but 9:30 approaches and I'm still cleaning my house. (I have 4 years sober it's fine don't worry.) Today my 18-year-old cousin and her parents are visiting from California to visit Moore College and I am supposed to give them a tour of the city.
I am feeling so grateful until I walk outside and see that my new planter has been smashed by the contractors working next door. They didn't even leave a note, they just stacked it up as if I'm going to do something with the shards? Okayyy
The plan is to meet at Rittenhouse for the farmers market at 11 which gets pushed to 11:30 because Alina is a teenager. On the bus I remember I'm supposed to be doing this diary and I hadn't really thought about what format to do so I take a selfie just in case. This is really my classic Saturday - farmer's market, thrift, art event - so it's kind of perfect that I get to do this diary and also share it with my cousin.
They are lost so I buy apples, and hyacinth from the Amish 8 year old girls. I want a perfume that smells like purple hyacinth and crushed grass. I feel incredible in the sun but oppressed by every cloud. When my relatives arrive, I realize that Philly is a courtesy stop on their tour because obviously Alina wants to go to Pratt or FIT or Parsons which she also got into. The park seems less impressive now and I'm kind of embarrassed I was so excited to take them.
I teach my aunt how to use Apple Pay and we take the bus to my apartment, because I need to put the flowers in water and Alina wants to meet my cat. They're really impressed by the Isaiah Zagar stuff including the mosaics, and like a fool I mention there's a pregnancy orgy mosaic on my roof so now they want to see it. The staircase reeks of cigarettes but they politely do not comment. I kicked a vaping habit and now smoke a pack a week, which I think is better for me in the grand scheme of things, but everyone seems to have an opinion.
We get cheesesteaks at Woodrow's and sit in a park while my aunt has a stressful moment on the phone trying to rendezvous with my uncle, and something is wrong with the rental car? I am excited to take them on my weekly circuit of Philly Aids Thrift, Retrospect, and 2nd Street, which are all within a block of my apartment. They want to buy me something as a late birthday present but all I find is an asparagus serving platter which is perfect for Easter with my partner's family (they are asparagus farmers and have a cabinet of asparagus-themed memorabilia). My cousin is telling me about her girlfriend and the promposal she has planned for next weekend. I used to be the gay cousin (artistically inclined, pixie cut, liberal politics) before we had an actual gay cousin. Props to her.
My usual 2-3 hour afternoon nap has been denied so I'm getting snappy, and I really want a cigarette but settle for a latte. We've run into two friends of mine on the street so I think I'm probably coming off as insanely cool and popular. A few more shops and then I want to take them to my favorite restaurant Royal Izakaya, but ever since that damn James Beard nomination it's been impossible to get a seat. I am looking to buy a house so I'm looking at the world in a whole new light, dreaming of living in a beautiful historic Queen Village converted carriage house with an attached sunroom and spiral staircase.
Alina decides to join me for a country-themed poetry reading at Lot 49 Books hosted by Catch Breath, who is one of the friends we ran into earlier. This necessitates a stop by my apartment for my cowhide boots, pearl snap shirt, and straw hat, and then we take a $18 harrowing Uber ride to the reading. Is it an asshole move to rate the driver 3 stars if they are literally speeding and blowing stop signs? And almost hitting cyclists?
The reading is in the basement of the bookstore - I take my usual seat in the front on the floor. Recently I have been trying to channel a "poet" look but I notice that all of the women who I think have this look are skinny white women with straight hair. I am a skinny white woman however I have curly hair. These thoughts distract me from the reading. One of the poets is crying and it is the highlight of the night.
It turns out that Alina had never been to a poetry reading before and she seems to be very inspired. Frankly, I don't think you should be allowed to make a $60,000/year tuition decision to go to art school until you have been to 3 basement poetry readings at the absolute minimum. Her parents pick us up and give me a ride home, thank god, and after we say our goodbyes I run upstairs for my long-awaited cig. I can't tell if I'm really enjoying it.
At 10:30, I am in bed watching "ASMR Brain Clean 🧼🧠🫧 scrubbing ur negative thoughts away ☆" despite not having a lot of negative thoughts to begin with, and already looking forward to my nap the next day.
she is usually a better photographer than is represented in the diary, and does beekeeping and crossword puzzles. she is online at @b.ird
