The 8-year-old was tasked with creating a book in class, and this was her submission. In the past eight years, I have grown accustomed to the sawed-off Buddha who shares my home, the one who openly discussed death at 2, projects a stoic calm in moments of physical trauma, and has, from the beginning, regarded…
This bed I’ve made
She curls into a hot parenthesis against me, tiny hands and feet twitching in ballet dreams. I gather the bedclothes over a wisp of porcelain shoulder: flanneled sheets, down comforter with a sueded duvet; February, and the weight of bedding has not been altered since the winter prior. “Mama’s bed,” she’d whispered before squirreling in,…
Please sir, may I have some more?
So last weekend, I was at a baby shower where one of the grandfathers-to-be read my palms. This wasn’t some kind of baby-shower game — although Tom was really good and also really earthy. I imagine if it were a baby-shower game and we’d all gotten a lot more sauced up on the delicious rum…
About that little blip where I was gone for six months.
So, erm, YEAH. Apparently you noticed (hi, Mom!). And maybe even punished me (sorry, BlogHer ads team!). And I swear I wasn’t even blackout drunk for most of the entirety of a single, solitary day of it. In fact, during a single month of it, I accomplished an Amazing Goddamned Thing: I wrote a 52,500-word…
That’s right, Utah, I am STILL pissed.
This morning, my friend Bryan sent me a link about the Utah newspaper at which we briefly worked together as reporters. Like me, Bryan now lives in Seattle. Like me, Bryan had followed his heart to Salt Lake only to have it promptly pounded into a stain, after which we respectively found ourselves friend- and…