BLOAT. February.

its a snow day of sorts. everything is panicky shutting down but the kids still had ‘remote’ learning. i took two of us for covid tests today, because of exposures.

two of four. right?

i took us to fast food when it was all done and now i feel bloated, at all the ends, and does everyone feel like this but just forget each time? The only good thing about a quarter pounder is the pickle. and it even looked disgusting. but i still ate it.

its beautiful outside.

i haven’t written in three days and i’m fearful of letting it go any longer. The kids are embattled with each other today and I don’t know what its about, but maybe they’re responding to the food too.

the snow is so beautiful and the ground is too warm to let it stick, so driving is a pleasure and there is a feeling of cozy, even in the car.

i have my green tea with ginger waiting and i’m trying to work through my feelings and i’m tired of the way i seem to fling myself about. why can’t i just move sedately like adult people? i feel just a mass of limbs lately. today. today i feel that way, a pile of frog legs on the plate.

i’m too full.

bloat. february. bloat.

love love,



Pfft, January.

i’m a little stuck as to a writing topic today. The grocery store threw me. I had my list, and I kept throwing more things in, like the list was just a baseline and it was full on chaos in my cart, i tell you.

i got chicken wings but no buffalo sauce. what the ever loving hell?

burrito spice but the wrong kind of tortillas. the kids will revolt. i’m trying to get them into corn, as its more lots of things, but its going to be rough rough going.

i bought myself a kombucha to drink but then made a smoothie. with a protein powder that i also bought. hello, i am drinking chocolate-colored chalk. and i’m forcing myself to because HEALTH! I SPENT MONEY ON IT!

i got everything to make a crockpot meal today and i already know i’m not going to like it. What fresh hell is this? Why do i have to eat chicken and black bean spicy chili? Why can’t these kids live on mac and cheese forever and shut the hell up?

if i only make what i like we will all have rickets.

so good goddamnit, already. someone send me a chef. preferably single, of age, with sparkly eyes and a penis.

thank you.

love love,



January claims me, utterly.

These are the things I claim and acknowledge…some of them.

  1. The sorrow that I live with still. The rage that my kid’s dad had a meh-good marriage, and I didn’t, and I think all the time about bad things he probably thought of me and how unfair it is that I lived like that for so long. And the rage that that is not a shared experience, it was just mine. My better part wouldn’t wish it on him, but man, there is still rage. Just one day, if he could have seen what it was like, for just one day.
  2. I need to claim all the days when none of that matters, because there are so many more of them than any other kind. There is so much movement away from that. And I am thrilled and part and parcel of that is how often I don’t even notice.
  3. I claim my boredom and how much I wish more for my kids of this time and how damn conflicted I feel about all of this. What is risk? What is risk of exposure? Is that a category that battles with need for socialization or physical exercise? Indoor soccer practice? Is that a vector that will kill my mother in law? Its too much, I claim this boredom and fanatical perseveration. It is mine.
  4. I claim the nature of mine that will give and give and seek and then hit a wall and be done. The fucking steely cold center of a glowing orb.  Like, I can only go so long without reciprocity, you know? I’m not for everyone and everyone is not for me and I need to get with that more readily.
  5. I need to acknowledge how good I am at sabotaging myself. I’m not eating well and I’m not exercising. I’m worrying about my weight and not doing anything about it. And I’m not job-searching, which is part and parcel of this freelance writer-editor thing. I AM taking my anti-depressants and considering how to better and more often make smoothies. I like to add kale, for my eyes. BUT I hate the mixer, with a passion. Its super bulky and I don’t believe I get it clean. It makes me pissy when I take it off the fridge. Are you so thrilled I am sharing today? It was a wedding present, believe it or not. Maybe its time.
  6. I claim that I am super-charged when it comes to feeling loved when people affirm me. It’s a way to show me love and I feel it best. I had a friend from 14! years ago tell me she liked to read my stuff this morning and honestly, my head feels like it will pop off with joy. Just to know someone reads it? And likes it? I am honestly over the moon. Its so simple. I need affirmations, but it does not make me needy. It fills me up and makes me feel loved and ehem, affirmed.
  7. I claim that this is a long-ass writing and I’m getting bored with it, as I type. This is the kind of thing I’m not supposed to share. Will this stop me? Not today Satan, not today.
  8. I claim a deep deep restless ness and because of #5, I am stuck. I have been thinking a lot about moving out all the furniture that is not used or broken… but I don’t have a truck, I don’t have a dump sticker, I don’t have…. And so I just sit in my juices of stuck. And of course those are all solvable, for chrissakes. What the hell.
  9. I admit to a certain addictive element to my personality. This week’s obsession, besides the fucking phone? Cinnamon bears. There is always a sugar element to my problematic behavior- the phone handles the dopamine. I ate a whole bag on Friday and I swear to god, it is still sitting in my stomach. Should I get some more?
  10. I admit to being a little lost sometimes. I’m handling it.
Eddie the black dog, looking right at me.


December headaches.

These are little things, and drips of my personality.

sorry. and you are welcome.

  1. i use a lot of humor with my kids, especially when we are camped out like this for a week. together. nowhere to go, no routine to adhere to. no school, no sports, no friends (covid). there is a certain level of hysteria in it, as the resident adult. lately its been ‘you people constantly want FOOD. what is wrong with you?!’ They laugh, I laugh… but it comes from my sincere desire to never cook again, i tell you. never ever. i can’t believe i have to do it again, at breakfast, then lunch, and then dinner. Its an absolute killer of soul.
  2. i have a headache again. i think this one is from being too hot in my sleep. have to eat something more before i put the medicine in my body. coffee is made. just trying to avoid throwing up all over the kitchen again. Not sure I could deal with that AND kids needing food. and yes, they know how to make sandwiches, toast, and ramen. they will never starve.
  3. the broken down chair i sit in is still pretty damn comfortable. its wide enough that i can pull my legs up and sit criss-cross apple sauce… many years as a sub, my friends. i love my elementary teacher days. still and always. just like i love buffy. might not want to watch it all the time or do it again, but the love is real.
  4. who am i kidding? i would love to work with kids again. and as much as i deeply want to serve the need my schools have for subs, now is not the time. at all. i wish i were that person, but i am not. i see it as keeping my mom around for a while longer, and no desire to be a hero will top that.
  5. i’m having a hard time with no attention from men. there, i said it. i think its lame, myself, but i miss the randomness of texts and the titillation of stranger flirtation and heavy handed innuendos. instead, i have discovered poshmark, and my friends, i have purchased a pair of boots, a bra and some pants. (i do not even wear bras, friends. what the flucking fuck? oh my though, its so pretty!)
  6. i need to remember this time period after christmas, financially. i’m just so relieved that i made it through, all the kids are supplied! We have this time together and i’m WAY too spendy. This year is a little better because I’m not going out to browse anyone’s Christmas clearance section, but still. I’ve blown my budget for months. sigh. and the truth? its all stuff for me. i think there is a final pushback against all the money i’ve spent on the kids and family for the months prepping for Christmas. i have this sense that ‘i deserve’ and everything is on sale, and i just lose my flipping mind.
  7. On Christmas Eve, we watched Die Hard as a family, and I think it made me just as happy as watching the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I may have a personality split coming or going. Psychosis? (they liked it, happily, otherwise i would be driving them across the border to drop them for the Canadians.)
  8. the kids leave tomorrow for five days straight. i desperately need to get my head on straight. i’m sure the vacuum will play a role. but i will also light some candles around the bathtub and do it up right. and i will, evidently, have new boots on, though not in the bath.
  9. i’m dirty. my hair is dirty. the last time i bathed was a long time ago. i hate showers with a passion and feel like a petulant kid when someone suggests one. seriously. you can’t make me.
  10. i love katherine hepburn. (she’s on the vision board too) yes, i know, a richy rich, but still. i love her prickly ways.
  11. gah. i freaking have to think about food again. JAYSUS.

love you love you. really do.


thinking of changing the name of the writing again. the unwifed part of me being smaller and smaller as the time goes by. fuck that, right? what do you think?

comfortable and colorful but collapsing…


December noticing 2

the next nine. (thanks again to cynthia lee. find her on patreon and give her $3)

SMELL. a mix of what is here, and what i like, and what i remember.

  1. I made popcorn this morning to satisfy the ‘special snack’ for the ‘christmas snack bag’ broohaha for the youngest. I made the popcorn with a large amount of frustration and resentment. I think I am too tired, and I don’t entirely get it. although the dog woke me up at three to go outside. its just 9:30 in the morning and i’m tired. i’ve got to go to the grocery store soon and i’m tired, just so tired. the kitchen still smells of popcorn.
  2. i wrote today about my dad’s holiday pants. a great wool plaid that i remember so vividly, from the church fairs and the dinner parties of my early childhood. early childhood. before i was ten. there is a legend of the day i grabbed the car salesman’s legs, and clung, because he was wearing those pants and i thought it was my dad. a legend. a story forged, melted and solidified. i can still smell those pants. i miss my dad.
  3. i brushed my daughter’s hair before the popcorn mood fizzle. i brush it almost every day. she’s got strawberry red though she believes its blond, always uses yellow crayons to make her hair. i can’t really understand the willfull misstake, but i am here to tell you how good it smells, her hair. perpetually clean, fresh, makes me think of princesses and lacy doilies.
  4. the crisp crunch of snow. its a smell. it really is. its a blue smell. i can’t say anything more about it.
  5. libraries. i don’t know how it is that they all smell the same, but they do. paper, pragmatism, age.
  6. the radiator next to me smells of warmth. literal heat in waves to my nose. substantial. warm metal. huh. so much in there.
  7. the chicken coop smells like a chicken coop should. but its a reminder in all this warmth, there is a hell of a lot of shit.
  8. the lotion i’ve started putting on my face at night. i’m a little incredulous that i’ve developed, or have started to develop, a routine of pampering. i rub this yummy smell into my face and i just feel a tiny bit of delight about it. and my daughter told me i smelled good yesterday. because of my face. tiny delights.
  9. bacon. because really, this had to be bookended by the two best scents in the world, popcorn and bacon. bacon is the only thing that makes me pity vegans and vegetarians. otherwise, they’ve got the right of it. but still. bacon. sigh.

yeah, weight watchers is going well. (hysterical laughing/sobbing)

love love love,


look at her hair. oh my goodness. the wave is a curl for most of the year. sigh. beauty.