Category: Angst

Angst:

Stories that get mixed up, that feel out of place, that confuzzle the soul.

To Be of Use: Beyond Making Do

Here’s a tandem response today: integrating #Reverb10’s Day 13 prompt on “Action,” asking  “What’s your next step?” with my dovetailed thoughts to Tara’s question posed to us: “Why do you make?” (I am going to put aside for now the fact that when I nannied in 1989, the family used the word “make” as euphemism…

No One is Looking: On Letting Go

So I continue to take part in #Reverb10, a 31-day write-in. Here’s today’s post. Day 5 Prompt: Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why? (Thanks, Alice.) This year, I let go of Kevin. Kevin is the name of the man I really and truly fell in love with in…

Don’t Make Me Look: Writing, Scorned.

Yeah it’s now 2:30 and I HAVE been awake since 7 a.m. and yes I HAVE thought about this Day 2, #Reverb10 prompt and I suppose I HAVE had at least TWO chances already to write this post, but I HAVEN’T and whose fault is that I’d like to ask but I won’t because if…

The Word for the Year: Denial

“Forever is composed of nows.”  ~Emily Dickinson Denial has saved me this 2010. Denial is my word for 2010. Let’s be clear. I use denial for good. I use it to protect myself and some important people from thinking too much: thinking about pain, thinking about loss, thinking about the possibility of an empty or…

On Awkward Days…

… And Processed Cheese I have this group of women friends that I, well, sort of worship. I knew them from college. We all worked together on the daily newspaper. It only recently occured to me that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t actually friends with them. Maybe it was that friend-ish-ness, where you later see…

Ordinary Rockstar

On Accidental Meetings with Angst Today I was driving in the minivan across the river, when it hit me. I needed to screech. All these letter-perfect songs played themselves out over the speakers all day, telling me that the dull edged blade I was balancing on was tuned just right. I kept opening my mouth…

Weekends are for Lovers

You know that elbow Room? That place where you can go and lean against the wall and feel your chest cave completely against your backbone in utter perfect relief? You know that place? That place, where the tables are always half-full and yet no one ever seems to bother the one chair you love, the…

The Keepers of Risk and Possibility

Tara Gentile and her posse of Great Minds have twisted my head up today. Being a working artist is a continuous rubber banding between being true to love and brushing off the fairy dust to face life’s sharp corners and heavy footfalls. Walmart is real. And even if don’t want to accept it, the status…

In Our Own Ways

TiVo and I watched “Glee” this morning at 5:15 a.m. Red rubber unitards and sex riots at 6 a.m. is enough to puncture anyone’s psyche. I am listening to something a lot less harmonic than Britney Spears while I drive these days. I am listening to Jim Fay’s contributions to the social parenting handbook and…

I Need You Now… More Than Words Can Say

I’ve mentioned before that I am making some changes to my blog, and that they will be happening over the course of time. Key to the success of my space, though, is making it a bit less MINE and a bit more YOURS. We like to think of ourselves as islands — There’s ME and…

Disney Princesses Have Ruined the Color Pink

Being politically motivated and standing up for my beliefs had an interesting side effect of making it difficult to choose a straw for my iced tea this morning. At my favorite locally owned coffeehouse, I purchased organic tea in a recyclable cup. Being the artful sort, I paused as I reached toward the cup of…

Into the Night

I have a terrible time writing in first person. It’s a long, dark walk into the night to find the place where you can spill yourself. It’s high and hard to climb. It’s where you exist as: “Me” but where you no longer belong to yourself. First person exposes you. The wind blows harder here.…

Guilt: The Fruit of the Loom?

A guest post by New Haven writer Chris Dawson I bought new underwear this morning. Socks, too—both white and dark. And for good measure I threw in a ribbed blue tee shirt. Altogether it came to $45, give or take. And now here it is five hours later and I still feel guilty. I believe…

An Hour of UnShopping

I just got back from what I like to call “unshopping” — a painful and ludicrous part of consumer culture. This is when we de-stuff-ify ourselves. In this particular hour, I made four stops: To the church recycling dumpster, which takes cardboard and #5s, so I don’t have to throw them away. To return cans…

We All Deserve a Little Reset Button Now and Then

Yesterday I was writing a FANTASTICALLY brilliant post. My friend Jen posted the status “evolve” on Facebook and it really got me thinking. I was tapping away on WordPress’s QuickPress window, when I got interrupted by a chat from my nephew. We chatted about nothing. Cake and pizza. Then another chat popped up from Helen.…