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…
It is the first day of February, and I am happy to announce—drum roll please— I have learned how to knit. Garter stitch, stockinette, cast on, and bind off. Yeah, I know those words now. I took a knitting class with two other women who were far more advanced than me. Honestly, I’m not sure…
Some mornings I wake up with too many thoughts. It does not happen all the time, but today I am sharing the randomness of my head. You’re welcome in advance. It occurs to me that Twitter used to be this cool indie friend who only said a few words and was nothing like the uber-popular…
I am normally all about the last minute. Down to the wire, middle of the night, go-time, crunch time. Whatever phrase someone wants to put on it, I’m that girl. Plans start off the same as every other normal organized human being, but somewhere along the way I get lost. I’m susceptible to shiny lights…
I’m phasing out tissues and their cute little boxes. Somewhere in the dark recesses of my the-way-things-should-be sits tissues. I was raised to believe that a civilized person didn’t use toilet paper for crying or a cold. Tissues were necessary. It meant you were a safe distance away from the old guy in a…
Last week it was decided we need a new mattress. I have learned many things as I have. . . aged. Yuck. I have learned many things as I have. . . cascaded through my years. No. I’ve learned a few things on my hopefully long walk toward the grave. Yes, that’s the one.…
Something guides me. I don’t know if I’d call it a little voice or my soul, I can’t really be certain, but something inside of me tells me when I’m being catty or selfish, it corrects me when I judge or if I lie. My something doesn’t prevent me from doing these things, it doesn’t…
I could never be a preacher. When I was in school I lived for the essay question, or short answer, because I liked to ramble on and talk about things. I liked the discussion. Definitive anything still makes me uncomfortable. It’s not that I can’t make decisions. Sometimes there’s a white and a black shirt, if I can’t…
I’m overwhelmed. Like hands full with too many things at the back of the grocery store and I didn’t get a cart, overwhelmed. There’s too much to do, it all needs to be done well and being one of those face painters at the Renaissance Fair is looking ideal. When am I going to learn? Things seem…