My German is leaving. Last Tuesday I left for work just as the sun came streaking over the houses, slowly rolling away from my quiet little corner neighborhood where all seemed copasetic. Nine hours later I rolled back around, barely paying attention in my late afternoon, post work, haze until a bright new sign caught … More The German in the Gingerbread House
Today marks five years since the 30 hours it took to say goodbye to my paternal grandmother and 15 years since my maternal grandmother died suddenly on a Sunday morning. The cliché goes “time heals all wounds” but it’s just another trite thing we say when we have no words. Grief is not a bell … More 30 Hours + Five Years + Fifteen
Facebook is airing television commercials in an attempt to woo back a jaded populace. They promise to get back to connecting and not dividing, promise to be more careful with our data. They are standing on our doorsteps with a bouquet of wilting daisies and an I’m sorry, please don’t leave me sulk. I broke … More The Easiest Breakup: Reflections on my Two Year Break-a-versery
I didn’t know you could buy a pregnancy test on sale. Huh. You can even earn CVS Extra Care Bucks. Apparently it’s a lucky day for my budget. Maybe not so much the muted panic that’s risen every day my stubborn uterus refuses to shed her lining. She’s a part of me so I guess … More + or -? It’s Not Just for Ions!
I broke up with Facebook. I thought it would be like when I broke up with smoking, reflexively reaching for my phone, as I used to reach for a phantom pack of Marlboro Lights in the cubby of the driver side door. I thought it would be like the first month after I broke up … More The Easiest Breakup
I grew up eating government cheese and wearing Dollar General jelly shoes that gave me bleeding blisters. When I was very young we raised pigs to slaughter and stored homegrown root vegetables next to the coal in the basement to make it through the winter. We were sustainable chic before it was hipster. When you’re … More Bubbles and Budgets
There is an inherent fear in being a woman, a dark shape lurking just in the periphery. We trek through parking garages alone with our keys clutched between knuckles to use as potential weapons. We have to calculate if the shortcut through the alley is worth the risk. We straighten our shoulders and hold our … More Fear Inherent
The first boy I ever loved was a Catholic School Bad Boy with a mischievous grin. It was the kind of love that tasted like cherry ChapStick and smelled like clean boy sweat. Not gym bag “my socks have been germinating in here for six months” teen boy but pure and undiluted burgeoning maleness. I … More Cherry ChapStick
THE LONG ROAD TO EMBRACING THE PLUS NONE There I was just this past June on the dance floor, swaying in a slow circle with my favorite partner—an icy long neck bottle that was growing warmer under my clutch. My beer lets me lead and there’s no danger of it crushing the toes that … More Slow Dancing With My Beer
A friend of mine leaned in to inspect my hair the other day to exclaim “Wow, there’s some really blonde ones in there!” I am not a blonde. By blonde she meant gray. I am officially a 35-year-old single woman who often finds herself sleeping on the diagonal in a big king bed. After my birthday I … More Sleeping on the Diagonal: A New Box
Sleeping on the Diagonal 