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REBECCAFEUERSTEIN_CONVERSATIONSCHPT4

REBECCAFEUERSTEIN_CONVERSATIONSCHPT4

Rebecca Feuerstein

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The speaker talks about their experience studying art history in college and their dedication to restoration and preservation. They struggle to find a job in their field and end up working at Joe's. They spend their day off packing and cleaning for a move, finding old items they forgot about. They come across shoeboxes of pictures that bring back memories of their sister Olivia and their time together in San Francisco and Washington, D.C. They also mention meeting Olivia's partner Adam and being impressed by his appearance. The speaker reminisces about their time with Olivia and Adam and the mushroom diet they tried. Chapter 4. Me and Marcus Aurelius. After Cal, I was accepted at San Francisco State University's Museum Studies program. I'd majored in Art History at Cal and was so dedicated to the restoration and preservation of great art that I decided to make that my career. I was good at it. My obsessive attention to detail and ability to work long hours without interruption put me at the top of my class. I went back to Pasadena after those years excited and ready to take my place in the working world. I found a job at Joe's a few weeks after my return from the Bay Area. I told myself if I would apply to jobs in my field throughout that summer and be out of there by fall. I applied over and over again and was rejected. I kept going to interviews and sending resumes, but I was still working at Joe's as we celebrated Thanksgiving with my family. I gave up easily and far too soon. Joe's was just easier. The coffee maker begins brewing as I wake up the next morning. I feel relieved that it's my day off, but dread that it will be spent sifting, cleaning, and readying for the big move. I start in the kitchen, the room with the most things I can live without for the next few weeks. I decide to pick up a paper this afternoon and start the phone calls to prospective landlords. I pack various cabinets of pots, pans, cookie sheets, and most of the dishes. I'm beginning to get into the deep recesses of my cabinets. I find old tape recorders, videotapes, and other knick-knacks I can't remember having. After finding enough stuff I haven't seen in forever, I go outside, drag in a plastic trash can, and begin to maniacally toss everything I haven't used in the past year. I feel lighter, but sad for a bygone era that is now being dragged out trash can by trash can. In another cabinet, I find shoeboxes of pictures that stumble out at my feet. I have apparently been stuffing them in the cabinet and not in the shoeboxes for some time now. To open or not to open, that is the question. A shoebox filled to the brim with old pictures and memorabilia is an invitation to open Pandora's box. I pull off my head, the old baby hat that I've been wearing since I packed the old hat drawer earlier this morning, and settle in. Old school pictures and candid photographs take me back to a time I don't want to relive, just as I knew they would. Flipping through them, I feel teleported to that world. Olivia and I, the day she got her first car, our college graduation from Cal, and the day Olivia, my sister, went up to the mountains when we saw it snowing on the news. We just packed up and started driving. Pictures of Olivia and me in our early 20s in San Francisco and Washington, D.C. take up most of this box. Olivia and I at one of our many outings at the Golden Gate Bridge. Olivia and I lunching in the Tiburon. Olivia and I toasting with Blue Hawaiians at Georgetown Bar. I remember saying that night, the Blue Hawaiian night, the first time I stayed with Olivia and Adam in their apartment. I was deep into my third year of the master's program at San Francisco State and trying to get used to a San Francisco without Olivia. I met Olivia and Adam at a Spanish tapas bar in D.C. for dinner after flying in that afternoon. As I walked into the restaurant, I couldn't miss the two of them. She was stunning in her white pantsuit and bright yellow pointy heels, but she paled in comparison to how impossibly beautiful Adam was. That night, he was wearing a black suit with a brilliant blue button-down shirt, which opened to reveal his perfect chest. His golden hair was cut short and moussed to perfection. Upon my arrival, Adam stood up to greet me. I remember my breath catching. I had forgotten how tall he was. When I gathered my wits again, I ordered a sauteed mushroom appetizer. I remember thinking that if I just ate the mushrooms, I would not officially be going off whatever my diet was I was on that night. The mushrooms tasted great and felt even better for sticking to this new mysterious mushroom diet I had discovered.

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