Category: crazy life

Split Seam

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…

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Favorite Jean Shirt

Jack sprained his paw running around and barking at the coyotes that like to hang by our back fence. The fence is tall enough to keep them out, but he’s protective of his home, his humans, that way. So, he’s been a bit limpy lately. I was diagnosed with a bit of cancer in my…

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Pill-Box Hat

It is the first day of October, still in the vibes of the last new moon, and I am mad inspired. I have done my Lumosity brain-training and my crossword puzzle for fifteen days in a row. My first Peloton ride of the new month done (Thank you, Alex). And… I might just finish my…

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Feathers

Should we reconstruct our vaginas or simply steam them on the regular? More importantly, is it still a vagina or should I be calling it a vulva? I read a handful of seemingly adult humans—or maybe adult is an outdated term since we are all just children-at-heart adulting while striving for our daily steps circle…

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Lace

I bought my children new shoes for the first day of school and when they returned after winter break. Twice a year. Every year. In the budget or beyond the budget, they had new gleaming white tennis shoes as they marched into class for a new and improved quarter, semester, year. There were years Michael…

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Unbutton

When did we start pushing buttons on every corner? Maybe some titled agency conducted a study that determined people waste point-however-many-minutes waiting for traffic lights to change. That those minutes equaled point-point-lost-dollars in revenues. It is possible a think-tank or non-profit group decided something had to be done about the anxiety-inducing wait. Whatever the reason,…

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Broken In

Broken girls become warriors. That was the quote on Pinterest. I’ve seen it before. I don’t know who wrote it. I’m sure several incarnations have been written dozens of times but reading it this morning set me off. Why the hell do we keep doing this? It seems the space between complicated issue and bumper…

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Folding

I don’t know what I am doing. You’ll say that’s not true, or I’m “taking a break,” but yesterday I practiced my print handwriting. I practiced it all day. I made tea. Got out a notebook and practiced my letters. Height, spacing, different pens, you name the variation, and I was working it. This may…

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Moth Balls

  Helen, Gertrude, Millie, and Alice. Those are good names. They smoke, no filter, and smush out their charred nubs in a beanbag ashtray before reaching for another Entenmann’s cookie.  They are all in housedresses, and they get their hair done at the same beauty parlor. I picture the remaining eggs in my body as these…

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