My phone died, and when I plugged it into charge, I got texts from months ago. I don’t know what that’s all about. Where were they lingering? Inside a cord, stacked inside a cell tower, or embedded in the light? No matter. Point is, one of them was a piece of bad feelings from an…
I wonder what I look like to that nicely put together pharmacist lady. She’s a graceful 45, long tidy braid, white coat. I give her the script for a fairly impressive dose of Klonopin. My skin is clammy with perfect circular drops of sweat pricking my upper lip, and lazier fat drops streaming down from my…
Oh you won’t believe this. Oh you’re gonna hate me. I’m getting paid to Pinterest. Paid. To do something I was doing compulsively for fun anyway. Sometimes I still just sit back and cackle because it just shouldn’t be. Paid to Pinterest. If you don’t Pinterest you probably think it sounds astonishingly boring and…
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…
I am a Girl Scout co-leader this year. I didn’t want to be. I’m brutally lazy. I like to lay down at meetings. My body rejects order and organization like a transplanted monkey liver. But there was what Gus calls, “a power vacuum,” and I was the only one to fill it. Then he…
Listen, you can look down on me all you want. But I say, if you were in the same situation, YOU would have grabbed that Playboy out of the Burger King garbage can, same as I did. Not this one…but that’s the general idea. Maybe it was the long buried reflex all bad children…
Last night, after drinking gallons of watered down apple juice and milk, LE pushed her small belly against the fabric of her nightgown. It rounded out and sloshed. “Mama,” she said, with true sadness, “I look fat.” It had the effect of a starting pistol, cleaving the uneasy anticipation and sending me on a…
I once read a post where a woman told how her husband and smirked at and belittled her blogging. He described it (I’m paraphrasing) as a an emotional circle jerk, where women just sit around taking turns whining and praising each other. The lady who wrote it was really hurt. She was hurt because…
“Mom? Do grown up’s bottoms get wrinkles? From the water? Like fingers?”I stand up from the slight stoop I was in to towel off my hair after switching places in the shower with LE. I consider the lovely view of my dimpled rear my daughter has been observing from the floor of the shower, and I say, “Yes.…
When you look at yourself in the mirror, your brain smooths out the reflection for you. It automatically smears Vaseline over the lens of your mind and what you see is familiar, workable, fine. Every woman carries a gauzy camera lens and soft lighting in the toolbox of her mind. But then those surprises. Tagged…
You're Doing It Wrong 