The Lockdown Story

  Lockdown drills are an unfortunate necessity in modern America. Every school has their own protocol, and I’m finally seasoned enough to only question whether I leave the blinds up or down. I know where my “Grab and Go” bag is, and I no longer need to consult the cheat sheets and maps for directions. … Continue reading

My Shitty Husband

My Shitty Husband

I didn’t realize it was my (former?) anniversary until I saw it on Facebook. “Three years ago today . . .” it said. And there was a picture of so many of us, my people, huddled together in and around and on top of the outhouse that my then fiancé carefully crafted so that it … Continue reading

Recipe for Numbered Days

Recipe for Numbered Days

Wake early. Make coffee. Notice the sunlight warming your shoulders through the kitchen window. Choose one album whose story you can follow as you putter: cook, start laundry, find a million dirty cups. Press play. Feel your shoulders, hips, stockinged feet begin to move. Pull your snarled hair up and secure. Smile at your reflection … Continue reading

Thursday

Thursday

And if I loved you Wednesday, Well, what is that to you? I do not love you Thursday — So much is true.  And why you come complaining Is more than I can see.  I loved you Wednesday, — yes — but what Is that to me?  — ESVM Oh, friends.  You heard me say, … Continue reading

Got That Fire

Got That Fire

For myriad reasons, I needed a break. Some privacy. A solo ride.  Naturally, I decided to drive to New York to make this happen. We know I don’t do things the easy way.     While I did really need to get the fuck out of town, the most valid reason I needed to leave was … Continue reading

Aftershocks

Aftershocks

A post in which I use a tired metaphor because my brain is tired and I can’t really think of anything else. If I were a geologist, I would have seen the earthquake coming. Unless it’s one of those disaster movies (why do I love them so much?!) where the fancy ass scientists don’t recognize … Continue reading

Miso Soup for One

I just gave the kids what they wanted and fixed myself my very own meal. Neither of the boys (one mine, one borrowed) are picky eaters, but 1. I didn’t feel like the production of cleaning my kitchen so I could make them a meal and 2. I wanted to let them pick as a … Continue reading