I have reached this interesting place where I’m not willing to share all of myself. That may be because I am working on things that can get ugly, or I’m simply changing. Whatever the reason, more of my writing ends up in a notebook or a journal these days than online. It’s not that what…
If I were a painter, I would wear a twist of string tied to my ankle long ago by a lover who never promised and left before I ever asked. I would live and work in an echoing flat with iron floor-to-ceiling windows and colorful but cracked tile in the tiny toilet. The window near…
I have not listened to music in nearly two years. I’ve listened to the occasional song in the car, the focus-chill playlist with no words, and our family plays a game where we pick a theme and then go around the room so everyone gets to play their musical interpretation of the theme. That’s fun.…
The maintenance guy thinks I’m a serial killer. We’ve had some issues with our smoke detectors going off at random intervals, and the joys of apartment life allow for a quick email to the maintenance department. A lovely man arrived yesterday. He changed some batteries. I stood with him under the alarm near my office…
Balconies are interesting spaces. A front yard or a porch are also revealing, but balconies are small pops of individuality amid a sea of windowed vertical boxes. I can’t say I ever noticed what my neighbors were doing when I lived among the streets, but now that I’m in an apartment, I can’t seem to…
What do you consider your greatest achievement? I have used pieces of Marcel Proust’s Questionnaire to help with fictional character development. But, since I am on a break from my current love story-in-progress and I’m already tired of writing about cancer, I thought I might turn some of Proust’s questions on myself. Quick cancer update:…
My first blog post was on July 3, 2007. No picture. No “my thoughts from…” sign-off. I didn’t even know what I was doing was called a post. I typed— this is my very first blog entry. I thanked all zero of the people following my blog at the time for “letting me sort it…
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 I read a handful of seemingly adult humans—or maybe adult is an outdated term since we are all just children-at-heart adulting while striving for our daily steps circle…
There’s no sense in lying. I fell in strong like with this picture, and since I have to write a blog post today, I went with something that makes me smile. No. I do not know the adorable tatted man or his puppy dog. I simply needed inspiration, and there they were on iStock. Today…
