Who says fiction has to make sense?  I mean, here, take this, this is my kind of fiction, the kind I write when I'm not writing the other kind:

"Give me your sadness like rainwater," he said ( Read more... )

And today it occurs to me that no amount of pate-with-peppercorns-on-fancypants-organic-artisan-peasant-wheat-bread-eating and hoitytoity-English-Breakfast-tea-with-milk-and-sugar-drinking is going to make me a grown-up if I persist in running around the neighborhood with white cotton panties sticking out of my jeans' back pocket. 

I am not feeling brave.  Mostly, I just feel an edged plane of translucent panic slicing through every level of reasoning I have.  I told my boss-I shrugged and smiled in faux casualness, and flippantly tossed out the announcement as if I actually believed I could do it without falling to pieces-I'm going to start taking classes, I said, at Harvard ( Read more... )

Some days you just feel uncomfortable in your own skin.  Today is like that, for me.  Or, as keith the ever quotable says, "this day does kind of suck. and not in a 'yes, swallow daddy's cock' way, either."  I ♥ papa.

I am never going to make it as a writer.  Not because I suck (I don't) but because I am too often uninspired and sad sad sad in so many ways that are not conducive to writing, as opposed to being sad in ways that make me want to tear out my heart and drag it across the page to leave a bloody smear of words ( Read more... )

Sometimes, you want to be the girl who runs out in the rain, arms outstretched to catch the wind that swoops down from the grey-white sky.  You want to have enough freedom of heart to be that girl, to have enough inner joy to be able to find laughter in being out in a downpour, getting soaked.  You want to be that girl who half-heartedly protests ( Read more... )

It's seven-thirty.  People pace along the train platform.  I see them and I don't see them.  They are all the same to me:  homogenized humanity in their nylon jackets and wool coats.  When I walk through crowds, dodging slow grandmas in their knitted vests and overtaking chatting college students more intent on their conversations than keeping with ( Read more... )

You know you're having a LAZY-EFFING-ASS day when you look over at a computer that is ten STEPS away, see that it is prompting for a reboot, and think, "I could Remote Desktop into that server from here."

But you know you're in needy hormonal hell when you forgo the Remote Desktopping to get up from your chair (with wheels!) and walk those ten ( Read more... )

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Up early and to the woods so that the baby could meet up with his new friends and have some playtime.  He's so good at being a dog.  I love watching him, my happy boy with the happy face.  When Rusty (mastiff) and Zeus (doberman) started a little tiff, he immediately came over to where I was sitting and sat down between my legs, like, "Mama got my ( Read more... )