Sometimes the damn money bags ARE heavy.

I was right. It took about a week for the baffle-coma to wear off. Or maybe it was two weeks. I don’t know actually – time doesn’t penetrate a coma state. I counted time in congratulations and people’s praise of me. And in the rare backhanded, seething compliment. But since I’ve stopped desiring to tell…

“no one needs to knoooowwwww”

I have a manila folder that, a year ago I scawled “BOOK REC.S” across, crumpled in my lap. I realize that in my slump of despair I’m resting my bosom on my accountant’s desk, and it is overflowing it’s pretty push-up bra into the v neck of my blouse. Bless his studied eye contact. I…

Go ghoti, you geurck.

  I had my birthday, and my friends left me long wonderful messages both on my Facebook wall and in private. And I noticed something. After sooo many of the messages, there would be another typed below it quickly. *meant “their” not there *my autocorrect is awful, sorry *forgive my spelling I make money by…

Like the girl with the cape

  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…

‘Bullshit’ isn’t a real swear.

  Older ladies, who still color and set their hair and know how to email, sure they’re fine. Whatever. But the Bills of the world, they do something to me. Cowboy shirt, faded, not worn ironically. Khaki shorts showing the white scars of his knee surgeries, and clean white socks pulled up the calf. Straw…

Belay ON

Every summer I sit in the damp heat of the glassed in “Parent Aquarium” at the University’s pool and watch my daughter learn to swim. This year, as I was signing her up at the Fitness Center, I couldn’t stop looking at their rock wall. Brand new, forty feet high, weird little pockets and pinches…

Faberge Fraud Fears Failure, Fights On.

  This morning, a producer from BBC Radio 4 emailed me to ask if I wanted to talk on her international immensely popular radio station about a topic I wrote 400 words on, in an article about a year ago. I’d be given an hour to prepare to debate a person who’d written an entire book on…

Playing Underpants Chicken, Losing.

I remember looking at the clock on the dashboard, and seeing that it was exactly 9:38 in the morning. And I was proud. I’d made it 33 minutes into the trip without wanting to pill-up. My two best friends here in town have my daughter over for sleepovers and play dates often. I seldom reciprocate, because…

It FELT like my business

I’m just an utter turd waffle sometimes Yesterday I literally accosted a woman, who did not know me, with details of her own private life that I’d learned through gossip.  One of my friends had a book release yesterday, and I attended with an extremely foggy brain but a pridefully constructed “literary” outfit.  And I…