Sorting it out one load at a time
Dear Boobs – This morning’s conversation as we stood in the bathroom mirror was probably the first time we’ve shared more than a passing glance since it became clear we are no longer on the same page. It was tense. I stared at you and tried to imagine my body when you are gone. I’ll…
There are times when writing is the only thing that makes sense. I’m not talking about the bullshit on Instagram about writing because “I have to.” No one has to do anything except for the taxes and death bit. Writers can be an obnoxious and overdramatic lot. I once typed somewhere that writing is “like…
If I don’t focus, life can be a real pain in the ovaries. Recently, I have started reading about Stoicism. I’m finding meditation is a little too cozy-blanket unless I’m going to be a monk, which is still an option on my table, but in the meantime, I need to strike a balance between…
Seven birds and, as of this morning, six baby mice. That is the death toll this spring. I can not provide context for this loss because I don’t know how many baby birds were in all of the nests around our house, nor do I know how many mice families call our piece of land home.…
When I was young, my mom and I moved to New York to take care of my Nannie who had breast cancer. My Nan fought like hell, and we spent a good bit of time in Bronxville. We lived in a one-bedroom apartment, which was part of a big yellow house that had four or…
If my boobs were small and I was skinny, I would eat cake every day for breakfast and lunch. Sometimes frosting, sometimes not, but always cake. At night, I would choose between lasagna and pizza. Real lasagna with real cheese or pizza with the perfect amount of crust and a sauce that wasn’t too sweet.…
Poke is raw tuna cut into small cubes and mixed with different spices. My current favorite is dynamite because it has avocado. It’s a big deal in Hawaii and we have eaten it for lunch pretty much every day since we arrived on Kona. It’s delicious and so fresh here. But there are other restaurants,…
Is it wrong to punch a sick man in the face? My whole body hurts and when I think about his wrinkled shirt and incessant coughing, I want to punch him right in his runny red nose. Mr. You-Look-Like-Shit, why did you have to get on my plane? Why couldn’t you have slept through your alarm…
Jack had a bath today. My youngest turned sixteen at the end of February, and then two weeks later my son turned nineteen, and a couple months before that my oldest bought her first car . . . on her own. But, Jack had a bath today. This is what I like to call Look Over…
