My marriage is over.

For thirteen years, I loved Zorro. I'm not a perfect person, but for all of those years, he had the entirety of my heart. I still love him. I loved being married to him. He made me laugh; he made me feel happy and alive. Now there's just emptiness; I stumble from room to room, packing my life into boxes, separating my things ( Read more... )

When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone

I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars

Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your ( Read more... )

All night long
Laid on my pillow
These things are wrong
I CAN'T SLEEP HERE

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My behavior while doing heavy labor is generally as follows ( Read more... )

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Flannel.  Blonde ponytail, turning gray.  Cutoffs.  Tallish, sturdyish.  Yes, it's really me.  I don't look much different, but at 40 it feels like my picture shouldn't be on the Internet unless I'm wearing a suit ( Read more... )

a) It's never good to be the only person who takes something seriously.  Why is it always me ( Read more... )

Washington has faults, and I'm half brick, but earthquakes don't scare me after all these years.  I was built in 1968, on a lot established in 1928, and purchased a year later by a chainsmoking alcoholic Norwegian couple in their thirties.  He was a mechanic and she did a lot of volunteer work at local museums.  They had one young son, who had a ( Read more... )