Every culture has a dumpling. Picture it. Empanadas, pierogies, kreplach, Xiaolongbao, ravioli (controversial), gyoza, mandu, momos, samosas, I’ll stop now but that’s not even all of it. This is another day where I try to convince you that everyone is the same. The same but slightly different. The same language but different dialects. We’re all on the floating rock together, putting some kind of meat or cheese or potato into some kind of dough filling. Then we’re frying or boiling or steaming it.
I’m coming at you live from the Brooklyn Children’s Museum, waiting for my booster shot of the Pfizer vaccine. We’re all just dumplings. Some of us are filled with Moderna and some with Pfizer but we’re all full of shit. And I think that’s beautiful.
I’m at the Brooklyn Children’s Museum and like a child, my mind is all over the place. I can’t stop thinking about how much this country loves guns and white boys. We love guns so much we sell them at the Walmart in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. Even if you’re going into that Walmart because you need to replace your windshield wiper blades, you have to walk past rifles and ammo and other gun accoutrement just to get to the wiper blades. It’s so easy to buy a gun and I don’t have to tell you that. It’s so easy to shoot people and that doesn’t make sense because we’re all just dumplings. We’re full of hope and sadness and joy and grief and latkes and bacon egg and cheeses and light blue Gatorade. And people shouldn’t be shot. They shouldn’t be executed by the state. Oh no we’re getting political! I’m at the children’s museum and I’ve been here for over an hour and I can’t even go to the Neighborhood Nature Greenhouse because the museum closed for the day. And nobody will let me do arts and crafts. Being a grown up sucks.
I want to have kids one day and I don’t want them to get shot in school. I’m at the children’s museum and I’m scared to be a parent. I’m scared to be scared. I didn’t want to post anything yesterday because of all this news. But I started this blog amidst an unprecedented level of bad news. Am I being too sad for you? Sorry! Women should stop apologizing so much. I’ll work on it.
This is absolutely all over the place because I’m at the children’s museum and I want to know at what age kids become mean. When do they become white supremacisits and when do they make fun of people who are different from them? When do kids become racist and homophobic and say things like “civilian casualty is just a part of war.” Maybe kids don’t say that. I haven’t been a kid in a while.
I just got the booster and I’m sitting on a children’s themed carpet waiting 15 minutes to make sure I don’t freak out. If I pass, in 15 minutes I get to go eat pizza. Being grown up is awesome.
I made some friends in line since I got here. Not really friends but comrades. We’re all waiting here for the same thing. The same filling. We’re all standing in the Pfizer line and our skin is the dough. We all hate getting up to pee in the middle of the night. We all love Betty White for some reason. I wish people knew how similar we all are. I wish people didn’t shoot people. The genie said I get one more, and I wish we could all just eat dumplings and stop killing each other. Is that too much to ask?