-
The victory lap
It's my last day as a 30-year-old. This is an age I used to talk about like it was the Promised Land ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
One of the many things I like about living in the Sonoran Desert is that no one complains about the rain. The rain finally arrived last night, and the flickering of sky lightening woke me. I jumped up and opened my window for it. This morning, I read about the rain in the paper. It'd made headlines. -
Contagious stress, Cortisol and saliva
As I was watching a PBS documentary about emotions, it occurred to me that there may be a connection between contagious stress, the hormone cortisol and kissing ( Read more... ) -
Visiting State College, PA!
Sup Homies? I'm planning a trip back to central PA to help alleviate this crushing homesickness. When is everyone available within the next three months? -
(Untitled)
This is... really hard. I know I need to start posting. I just don't know what to post. What does anyone want to know? Maybe I can start there. -
Jet set again, perhaps?
So, The Woman has moved to Arizona to pursue a post-doc. She and I have been in contact everyday, except for the day I lost my cellphone in the Pit which is my new room at Mike's. Had to go to work. Couldn't be helped ( Read more... ) -
Is this still my journal?
I haven't posted in weeks because I'm afraid to. I have several LJ friends that I love and respect... and I'm just too worried that I'll alienate them if I post about what I want to post about, using the language that I'm most comfortable with. What am I to do? Anyone have any suggestions? -
Opening up old wounds and rediscovering forgotten talents
The last time I considered myself a writer, I was a child. That's also back when I considered myself an artist. My adult life has been spent going from one survival strategy to another. The object was to stay alive, that's it. I just didn't have room for anything else. For someone like haikujaguar , the very idea must seem soul-starving. I didn't ave ( Read more... ) -
Tangle, Cadence, Isa
Sometimes a story burns in your chest, under your hands. Is it yours to tell, or maybe to live? Who the hell is this woman that's arrived in my life?