Tiny Furniture Page #10

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but I thought being

a makeup artist sounded fine.

It is fine. It's all fine.

No, I don't want

to be a makeup artist...

and I don't want to be

a massage therapist...

and I don't want to be a day hostess.

I want to be

as successful as you are.

Oh, you will be

more successful than I am.

Really, believe me.

I want to be as successful as Nadine.

Now, that's gonna be harder.

She's a little obnoxious

with all that, anyway.

I read your journal

from when you were my age.

I don't care.

I mean, I didn't read the whole thing.

I just read part of it, but -

I figured you knew where they were.

Yeah, if you didn't want me to read it,

you shouldn't have just left it right out there...

in the lightbulb cabinet

where anyone could find it.

I really don't care...

and I'm sure

they're not that interesting, and...

frankly, I can't remember

anything I wrote.

Mostly about food.

- Who was Ed?

- Ed?

Yeah, you wrote a lot

about someone named Ed.

Oh. Ooh, Ed.

Sheila and I rented a corner of his loft

and ended up paying most of his rent.

- Where was it?

- On the Bowery.

You lived there?

We lived there, he lived there...

and his girlfriend used to come

and paint in a corner every day.

They had these unbelievable

screaming fights.

And I'd met them both

at a meditation conference...

so I found the whole thing very,

very un-Zen, if you know what I mean.

Mm-hmm.

Anyway, one day he came in...

and started screaming at her.

And he left.

And I walked over to her corner,

and she was crying and painting...

and painting while she was crying...

and I said, "Excuse me.

I hope you don't think

this is rude or forward...

but I overheard your fight...

and I think you were really right...

and he was really, really wrong. "

And from that point on

we became best friends.

- Who was Phil?

- Phil...

was a guy

who didn't like sex very much.

- Was he your boyfriend?

- Oh, no. Not really.

Seems like you had

sort of a lot of boyfriends.

I didn't at all.

I was just trying stuff out...

probably kind of like what you're doing.

I met up with that chef from work.

When?

Tonight.

What happened?

We had sex.

Where?

In this house?

No.

At his house?

No, he has a girlfriend.

- At a hotel?

- No. I wish.

- Where?

- I don't wanna say.

In the street?

No, worse than that.

What is worse than the street?

A pipe in the street.

Didn't you get cold?

Not really.

- Did you use protection?

- No.

Aura, I really, really

want you to be careful.

I'm really tired, Mom.

I just have to go to sleep.

Wanna sleep with me?

Yeah.

Why don't you shut off the light?

Do you hear that ticking sound?

A little bit, maybe.

I think it's the alarm clock.

You think you could move it?

Yeah, hold on a second.

I put it away.

I can still hear it.

Yeah, but only a little bit, right?

# Your old bedroom #

# Is just how you left it #

# It's here for you #

# When you come home #

# We are all over the place #

# We are restless #

# We will subdue

when you come home #

# You finish unpacking #

# We sit down together #

# But something's strange #

# The seats unhinge and rearrange #

# When you come home #

# You sweat soundly #

# The afternoon goes on #

# It's what we face #

# When you come home #

# Then in a flash you find yourself #

# Out on the streets

with no clothes on #

# You freeze in place #

# And then come home #

# A new kind of family

is breathing, sweetie #

# Shadows assume

in every corner of the room #

# When you come home #

# All I do is follow you around #

# And pick up all your dirty clothes #

# And do you think I'm made of money #

# And where do you think you're going #

# I will cave #

# And indulge your regression #

# When I don't want to sleep alone #

# And if you suddenly leave #

# I won't question #

# Just let me know

when you'll come home #

# You change the subject #

# And the friction gathers #

# We're close enough #

# We will incarcerate our love #

# When you come home ##

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