Trying To Distinguish Between An Amirah, An Adamina, And An Avagail
Names have been changed, sort of.
First there was Amariah, I think, I’m pretty sure at least. She went to Carleton College, the most expensive school in Minnesota, but really she was from Connecticut. I think that’s right. She could have been from Pennsylvania or maybe Rhode Island or Vermont. I’m unsure, though Connecticut does seem right.
Then there was Adamina, I think, I’m pretty sure at least. She went to Alfred University, a liberal arts school in New York, but, because Sarah Lawrence is also in New York, there’s no way Alfred could be the most expensive. Or, maybe it is. I went to a public school in South Dakota and so when people start talking about a year of college costing more than $30,000 my head starts to spin. And, yes, I understand that number is probably half of what Sarah Lawrence or Alfred must cost. I’m just giving out a base number.
Then there was Avagail, I think, I’m pretty sure at least. Oh yes, I forgot, Adamina was from New York. Though there’s a part of me right now that wants to say Massachusetts. But, Avagail, she was from New York for sure. I remember this because she talked about how she wrote for The New York Times. And yes, I understand as well that you don’t have to be from New York to write for that publication but it’s the memory of that fact which connects to where she’s from, that and Avagail talked about her brother who lived in Manhattan and made a “shit-ton” of money as a banker, or maybe an investor, or probably an investment banker. It’s hard to say which one. When people start talking about that kind of stuff I just smile and nod. Anyway, I don’t know where Avagail got her undergraduate degree but she was getting her M.F.A. in creative writing (which, apparently, is a real degree) at the University of Minnesota.
After that, it gets harder still to distinguish what’s what.
All three are, as it’s known, geographically east coast, if not east coast in their dispositions, whatever that means to you. All three are Jewish. As for hair, Avagail’s, at least, was straight, and a more dullish brown. But Amariah and Adamina, you’d be hard pressed to pick their hair out of a hair line-up. Both of them have the perfect hair, the long, dark, full, curly but not stringy curly, hair. In terms of hair, the differences between those two are infinitesimal. As for bodies, it’s also very difficult to distinguish between Amariah and Adamina. Both of them were blessed with a lithe figure but, somehow as well, an inordinately round bottom. Of the two, Adamina did have a larger bosom, though that’s certainly not a denigration of Amariah. Her form might be one of the more perfect ones I’ve seen on Earth. Then you have Avagail who, in the end, probably does stand out the most in terms of physical attributes. She was wider around the hips and didn’t have the breasts of Adamina nor the backside of Amariah. Still, she was fit, in a writer kind of way.
As for our times together, things get fuzzier still. With Amariah, we were electric from the start, from my first message about “deals” (Amariah mentioned a love of them in her profile) to her first message where she gave me her phone number to the days after as we texted like animals, then, to when we met for the first time and did more things like animals. But so soon things came to an end. Amariah had another. I told myself she was too young.
Then, with Adamina, we were electric from the start, from my first message about “rings” (she mentioned in her profile that you should message her if, ‘You don’t want to get married’) to when we ate our pho to when a couple nights later we ate our curries to a couple nights later when we, excuse the logical progression, ate each other. But so soon things came to an end. Adamina had another. I told myself she was too young.
Then, with Avagail, we were electric from the start, from my first message about “semi-colons” (she mentioned in her profile that she liked them, I told her someone once said they were about as useful as a “semi-boner”) to our first messages about writing to our date where we talked about writing (I even recommended some novels). But so soon things came to an end. Avagial had another. I told myself she was too young, even if she wasn’t.
Here’s another thing I fear I won’t be able to remember later, who smiled the most, a silly thing, though very important. I know that Amariah and I, we probably got along the best, finishing each others sentences, knowing each others references, laughing the hardest at each others jokes. But, pretty close after her is Avagail. She had a wonderful, full body laugh, much like Amariah’s. Adamina probably laughed the lest. I should remember, though, she made mixed art collages (“using collage and the allusion of collage,” as she says on her website) and that’s probably, in part, why she was so serious.
As for fashion, they all dressed well. Of them, Adamina could probably most easily blend in at a modern art gallery, outside of perhaps Berlin, where I imagine everyone wears very severe clothing. Amariah dressed modernly as well. She wore high-waisted skirts, though Avagail wore one of those, too. So, again, it’s tough because it’s not like one of them wore overalls and another wore Jnco jeans and another wore a choker. They all just dressed very nicely, the kind of way I imagine other women would see and be envious of and that other men would see and take notice.
Beyond that, I don’t know, there’s the place they lived. All them in Minneapolis. It’s their age, two in their early 20s and one in her mid. It’s the car they drove. All compact Civic kind of models from the early 00s, though one of them might have been blue? I really don’t know, colors, shapes, sizes, they begin to blend together into a collage, or, perhaps, an allusion of one.
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The best thing about being a young adult right now is that you, more than any previous generation, have the freedom and the resources to create your own religion. So, let’s get started.
The apartment you lived in your first year out of school, the walk-up with a view of the street.
I wanted to quit my job. I hated my boss.
His eyes widened, he became angry, and backed off of me. I told him he could leave now. Now. He said “With you being a good Christian girl, and me studying to be a priest, I think it’s important we not tell anyone what we did.”