Entries by Beth Geraci

Sunday dinner

“It’s hard to find people who will love you no matter what. I was lucky enough to find three of them.” — Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City, Season 3, Episode 12 We said Sunday dinner was about cooking, but it was about friendship. Better known as “Sex and the City Night,” the evening focused […]

Dreams lost

It was after the movement disorder and before that I started losing myself. Sitting on the bus, watching the snow fall on Michigan Ave., wondering where life was headed and how things had gotten so stuck. Someone had made me trudge through a field of quicksand. Except no one had made me do anything, see? […]

Maurine with an ‘i’

When I lost the prescription plan, life got harder. Can’t remember why I lost it. Did I switch insurance or did they switch me? I think they switched me.  One day I had it, the next I didn’t. It was so messed up. Was in the new place by then. The one in Boystown, a […]

The hug

Don’t talk about the hug, the one with Dennis in L.A. Feel it from time to time, though. Even now. The energy became part of my soul. Was it his energy? It’s both of ours now. Cruising the pitch-black roads from Santa Monica to West Hollywood in silence. Glare of headlights against the dark, his […]

Divorcing Dr. Sullivan

I keep returning to the moment in Dr. Sullivan’s office where I’m breaking down in tears and he’s shouting, “Don’t be such a baby.” That’s how our divorce unfolded. I remember it like a film reel, to create distance I suppose, make it hurt less.  There was an intolerance to Dr. Sullivan that made him […]

The Day the Earth Moved

Always an earthquake before the tsunami, isn’t there? Looking back you think there musta been a sign, musta been a warning that change was coming. And maybe there was, too subtle to see. If I could go back and stay asleep that day, would things have been different? ‘Cause the moment I woke, the world […]

City of Slumped Shoulders

We were lined up facing each other, he and I. That long row of window seats on the 146. Sat across from him, eyeing his pantyhose. He sat across from me, eyeing me, eyeing his pantyhose. He’d been jogging, the blue shorts pulled up high. What does it feel like to run in nylons? Is […]

Lakeshore Athletic Club

“What do you call a pig that does karate?” On the treadmill, incline at 10, speed at 5, and some guy’s in my face talking about a pork chop. Does he not see me sweating? The Tribune people had left, probably home eating sloppy Joe’s by now. I was stuck. “What’s your name?” the guy […]