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Men, Myself, and…V is for Vendetta
The first month after my breakup with The Besticle was really hard. In addition to dealing with the fact that my relationship had imploded yet again, I was trying to own my commitment to myself as a...
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On Nourishment & Peach Cobbler
I am making peach cobbler — Paula Deen’s peach cobbler. I am ignoring her penchant for calling black people n*ggers. Instead, I lay sticks of butter on my baking dish and nudge it into the oven. I mix...
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Someone Else’s Karma
I’d be lying if I said he was forgotten. Sometimes, when I least expect it, the air carries his scent: laughter, sadness, passion, love. Other times a new season of an old show will air, and I’ll...
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If you see a life coach on the road, kill her.
There’s a Buddhist saying, “If you see a Buddha on the road, kill him.” I love this saying, and, although I have a statue of Buddha in my home, it serves as a reminder that the teacher is not to be...
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Self-love is a marketing ploy…
The only thing I know for sure is that we’re all okay. Beyond that…I’ve got nothing. See, evangelical self-love used to be enough for me. It gave me fodder for countless blog posts, book ideas, and...
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For JD Salinger…and the rest of us.
An artist’s only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else’s. – JD Salinger On a whim, I watched the JD Salinger documentary last night and, when it was...
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Field-notes from Hiatus
(I dedicate this blog post to my FIRST EVER blogging class students, who have inspired and challenged me to show up in class, in life…and on this blog.) There are a million reasons I haven’t been...
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The Part Where We Move Forward
On my thirtieth birthday, I took myself to dinner. After a major minor freak-out about the end of an era, I settled into the idea that aging was probably better than death, and planned to meet friends...
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What does it mean to be healed? (#31writenow, #nablopomo)
Sometimes, when I’m having a bad day (or week or month), I reread my own blog posts. I’ve never mentioned this to you because that shit sounds super narcissistic. But it’s true. I don’t do it because...
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There is Medicine in Story (#31writenow, #nablopomo)
My childhood friend, Marie, sits beside me on the pavement. We are outside of my parent’s house, getting ready to go back to our respective homes. I didn’t expect to see her, but it’s a nice surprise....
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