When I hit 40 this year, I started to feel strange. Like I didn’t understand who I was in relation to that number. It was a creeping “old and used up” feeling. But I didn’t let that hang around. At some point in our lives, we reach an age that no longer makes sense. The…
Tag: Love-ish-ness
A love story.
No One is Looking: On Letting Go
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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…
View from the Passenger Seat
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Day 3, #Reverb10 Prompt: Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (by Ali Edwards.) View from the Passenger Seat Once I sink against the leather– GPS Daniel having accepted Our destination– Once we have buckled With coffee stowed… I become…
On Awkward Days…
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… 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…
On Seeming Effortless
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Cinnamon rolls have to be one of my favorite foods. Over at Pioneer Woman this morning I was drooling at her recipe for Chocolate Chip Cookie Sweet Rolls. The recipe even starts from the yeast, and not from a blue can you tear paper off of and bang on the counter’s edge. Man, I like…
I’m Smarter Than You…
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Or, At Least That’s What You Think My oldest sister, Kathy, felt the crush of competitiveness in our family the most. And why shouldn’t she? After all, she was succeeded, one after another, by 5 cute little bundles that usurped her crown. And meanwhile, more and more responsibilities were dumped on her little shoulders Coming…
Ordinary Rockstar
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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
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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
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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…
Lullaby for a Head Injury
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Mr. Blue, you did it right But soon comes Mr. Night, creepin’ over Now his hand is on your shoulder Never mind, I’ll remember you this… I’ll remember you this way… — Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra After the sound of the skull cracking, and after the soft sound of my flesh finding…
On Loving Things
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Thanks Tara! It’s Another We Scout Wednesday great topic. I have talked often here about how we should all de-stuff ourselves. Get rid of everything and just stop the consumption train. It’s no secret how I feel about that. I am the anti-packrat. At my house, if you leave your sh*t on the counter too…
The Tweet is a Lonely Hunter
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Today ScoutieGirl posed an interesting question about how the internet shapes and changes our creativity. She and I seem to agree that, like all things that are woven to the human form, the Web has the innate ability to remind us that we are alone in the universe. She asked: “as sister diane pointed out…
Techno-Love
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Or, On How to Avoid Becoming a Lesbian at College My friend, Frances, and I have married the same man. Frances: Alex is bobsledding in Lillehammer. He’s a bit nervous. Me: Why? He’s loves to ski black diamonds in brightly colored one-piece snowsuits. Frances: The first time they go down in a big bathtub thing…
Inside the Bell Tower
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I took this photo in May of 2007, which of course seems like about two weeks ago. We’ve been in this small state for almost two and half years and I see how time gets compressed–I’ve erased the afternoons and the mornings and the evenings and all that remains is the back and forth motion…
On Finding Things Lost…
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(… Things Which Did Not Know They Were Missing) An old friend found his way back to me tonight. I’ve sent him a note to say hello in the old fashioned way. I’ve emailed him. I wish I could have said that I used something a bit more archaically romantic– postcard or handwritten letter, but…
