Sick Day

on April 26, 2021

 “Mom, I’m sick.” “Are you sure it’s not allergies?” “My throat hurts.” “Mine gets scratchy in the morning.” “Feel my head.” “I’m sorry, honey, but you feel normal.” “But my body hurts.” “Is this because you have to go to school?” “No! I feel sick!” “Okay–take some ibuprofen and try to get some sleep.” The… Read More

Human Stories

on April 19, 2021

 So, as I’ve mentioned, my mother (not to be confused with my stepmom, who I am usually praising on my blog) lives in an adult care home for the mentally ill. With the onset of the pandemic, I wasn’t really able to visit her–but I’ve always been pretty good at sending her things. She’s read… Read More

And Back in Bed…

on April 15, 2021

 This morning, Nebula was eating my face. You heard that right. Every morning, about seven–which is an hour before I get up–the cat bounds in with wet paws. Could be dew from his morning excursion, or it could be water from the dog bowl–we’ll never know. He purrs, he sticks his head under my hand,… Read More

The Saddest Dog in the World

on April 12, 2021

 Last night at 2:00 a.m., in a suburban neighborhood northeast of Sacramento, California, the following happened. A woman–large, squishy, middle-age-ish, climbs into the king-sized bed she shares with her spouse of 34 years, and immediately realizes something is missing. “Mate,” she says hesitantly, “Where’s the fuckin’ dogs?” “Wha?” he replies. “Why are there no dogs… Read More

A Modest Little Flail–April!

on April 5, 2021

 YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!!! So I’ve said this before–I’m not the most responsible of flailers. I do not, as it were, go out and flog for my flails–usually people just sort of ask me as the month progresses, and by Sunday night when I’m putting together my Kermit Flail, BOOM! There it is. But this month has been… Read More

All the Pretty Changes

on April 4, 2021

I’ve made no secret about my children having a rough year. My pictures from last year at this time–Easter, Squish’s birthday–mark a year in captivity, as it were, imprisoned by pandemic fear, depressed by a scary world. And while some things have gotten better, some things are getting better, and–you’ve all probably noticed–I’ve chosen to… Read More