Crystal died so fast.
She never knew what to make of me. Our daughters had been best frenemies since age six, their squealing little naked bodies careening through our small house, slipping on laminate, streaking from their daring “night swim” in our inflatable Intex Quik-Set into a hot shower.
I sounded like Daffy Duck and Sylvester the Cat had a baby and it was on meth.
. I loved it. I hated it. It felt sick there and so special too. Like Nigger Ben Butte, all wrong, distasteful even, but sickly compelling in its defiance.
And anyone who wants to sign up for a copy can now, cuz Amazon. They won’t get it til November. But neither will they suffer when the book sells out the first day. I don’t know if that happens. But it might, don’t take chances with important matters. The mother of my child hood friend,…
My husband’s Uncle Shep is a doctor and surgeon and has probably saved more lives than most towns have people. Yet he believes home based technologies peaked around 1993, and his home, which he graciously opened to my family for our stay in Pennsylvania, reflects that belief. Specifically, he had no internet. No computer even. His…
So, I’m nearly 37. Which…isn’t quite true. I’ve seen 37. They were my teachers and my friend’s moms. Even some of the women I know right now are a proper 37, with large grown up homes, ordered finances and…I don’t know. Whatever 37 year olds like. Wine? So, lean into the fear, or it can’t…
Flight. Feel danger or pain approaching and retreat. Unless you’re evolutionary defective. Then you just lean right on into that pain. It’s a compulsion. Nearly out of my control. I feel it in my gut, a force tugging me from my center, off my feet and into the sharp end of whatever bad situation points at me. Especially…
I wrote this once before, a long time ago. I took it down. I’m ready to rewrite it now. It’s long, but it has to be. Settle in. When I ask my seven year old how much she remembers about grandma, who died when she was four, she always tries to please me with memories.…
Gus once said this about Christmas. “It’s a fire women start, and then they run around screaming because everything is on fire.” If women vanished from the earth Christmas would, for the most part, go with them. If the holiday survived I imagine it reverting to some sort of raucous medieval feast, with spit roasted…
A kid’s birthday party today, one where I didn’t really know anyone. So I took extra pains, as I have learned is necessary if I don’t want to lay the groundwork as a total outcast and then have to dig myself out. An outfit both slimming, feminine and casual. (I think. I don’t know. It…
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