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3:21 p.m. - 2005-07-29 So we chat, we have lunch...we talk about how her internship might be structured. She looks at me intently at one point. "I think I know you from somewhere," she says. A few moments of us naming things and asking things like did you sit on the board for blah-biddy-blah-blah....and her eyes widen and she smiles with triumphant recognition. "I know your parents, Ginny and Wayne. I held you when you were a baby." Good grief. Just when I start to forage into Real Professional Land in the Mon Valley....my intern has seen me in fucking diapers. As if this is not bad enough, I am sitting, interviewing her in a local restaurant when two older (60s) women saunter over to me joyfully. It's my high school english teacher and another teacher from the building who I had some extracurricular activities with. They gush about seeing my articles in the paper and this and that....saying how they remembered me in 7th grade.....oi vey! PEOPLE, I am TRYING to establish myself here! Next thing I know, my father is going to come out from around the corner to cut my steak for me and my mother is going to come by the table to recount to everyone how exciting it was when I first told her I wanted to ditch the diapers and wear "big-girl pants." |