Category Archives: Writings

I have a forehead like a dartboard that’s all bullseye. Its lack of bangs makes it curtain-free, exposing it to the elements. My good ol’ mom’s early positive comments like, “You have a beautiful forehead,” and telling every hairdresser, “Do not cut bangs,” must have stuck. As with any resilient and optimistic story, there areContinue reading “Chrome Dome”

I don’t want to talk about it. I brush past you with a dramatic flick of the wrist, as your hair blows behind you like Fabio’s. My flamboyant peacock display makes what I say a thunderous pronouncement, like that of a new ruler. But I’m just bluffing. The chasm of despair is only a sliverContinue reading “Sombrero Pigeons”

I’m bored. And worried I’ll bring that boredom to the page. Boring, boring, boring. The excess time I spoke of yesterday—the inevitable calm after the storm before the next storm. I’m in the thick of it. A nice sit-down, strumming my chinny-chin-chin, and pondering is usually a welcome retreat, but that’s not where I’m at.Continue reading “The Long-winded Night”

Who will I become or did it already happen? Am I just stuck as who I became? What’s the difference between who I became and who I have become? My friend Reid gets into diatribes during our Marco Polo conversations. The word diatribe—I’m unsure if it means philosophical pondering. Ok, Wikipedia is setting me straight:Continue reading “Touch a Truck”

I spoke to the postmaster of zipcode 31078. It only took two tries to reach him, and just as one would expect from a postmaster in a small town, he knew exactly which house was ours. He told me it would take two business days for Amazon and others to recognize the address as deliverable,Continue reading “Done Deal”

My life feels reminiscent of the time I ran a half marathon with sciatic pain. Even if it meant hobbling right up to the finish line, there was no way I was training for months and not racing through Epcot for the Star Wars-themed race. Like back then, I know I must keep going, evenContinue reading “A Moving Marathon”

How many sentences did I start and not finish, deleting the idea in search of a better one? It’s that kind of day. All work, no play, keep it moving. I’m at my limit. The endless decisions to keep or eliminate things in the moving process are on their final leg. And at this stage,Continue reading “Sweatin’ to the Oldies”

There’s a thousand-mile stare as I imagine mowing the chickweed before settling in to write. With the weeds being far too long and the electric mower not yet packed, I could do the soon-to-be owners a favor. I’m pleased by the feel and look of a new set of pajamas with vibrant orange peaches againstContinue reading “A Clean Slate”

I feel like I’m at capacity—a sponge starting to drip from oversaturation. Since sharing the letter from my mom, friends and family have opened up about her, telling me things I didn’t know. Her best friend Laurie messaged me, “She was smart, funny, inquisitive, she saw through people.” At the time of my Mom’s death,Continue reading “Raw as Rain”