The Mad Hatter told Alice that she was much more muchier- that she had lost her muchness. I’ve felt this so profoundly at points in my life. Mostly, at the end of, or immediately following the demise of a relationship. How could I make Sus and Doug’s anniversary ode about me? Well, because I’m muchier,… Continue reading Cheers to Fifty Years.
Tag: life
We are all on trial, aren’t we?
The room is inky black and the only real sound I can hear is the whirring of my wall air conditioning unit. Well, that and the dehumidifier that feels essential for life these days. I turn my phone horizontally, hoping that this makes the image large enough to feel a greater sense of connectivity. The… Continue reading We are all on trial, aren’t we?
Holy Matrimonial Hell.
I can feel sweat beginning to form on satin that is jammed into my underarm. I’m pissed but this is inevitable. I’m a person who is prone to sweating and Bonnie had to pick motherfucking satin. To be fair, I’m not sure there’s a fabric that would escape my body temperature regulation, but this one… Continue reading Holy Matrimonial Hell.
Pockets of Space.
Perusing Instagram, my attention got stuck on a post about sisters. Specifically, sisters with radically different lives. One sister with a husband and children and one, single and fancy free. This didn’t feel like an accident, as yesterday I stumbled across a post about the grief of parenthood not coming to fruition. The idea that… Continue reading Pockets of Space.
The Hill of Lost Opportunities.
Man, today sucked. I know- what an intro. But it’s true. We had some shit go down at work and I’m feeling heavy. I won’t get into it, but it’s amazing how transformative any version of grief is, isn’t it? I imagine you might be thinking: ‘of course!’ P.S. I didn’t use duh because that… Continue reading The Hill of Lost Opportunities.
Sometimes, all you need is a win.
A few days ago, I was sitting, staring at my phone, fingers hovering above the Paypal icon. Should I? No. I shouldn’t, I decided. I swiped up on the screen, careful not to inadvertently submit anything resembling payment, and closed out the window. I don’t need a Knicks t-shirt, even if it’s vintage (love me… Continue reading Sometimes, all you need is a win.
Hot Mess Express.
My brain tracks the bead of sweat as it travels from the nape of my neck, down my spine, and finds a home in the lower region of my thin cotton tank. The dampness of my tank is almost indistinguishable from the veritable pool I’ve accumulated by the waist of my skirt. I press my… Continue reading Hot Mess Express.
A Hairy Situation.
I stare at the piece of hair. I’ve seen so many pieces of my hair detached from my head over the years. Curly, dyed strands wrapped around stubborn hair elastics and plastic nubbed brush bristles. But now, I gaze at the long, dark wet strand plastered to my tiled shower wall. It feels complete in… Continue reading A Hairy Situation.
The Ick.
I paused before writing this piece. I hesitated for a variety of reasons. It wasn’t some feeling of embarrassment connected to the admission that I watch reality television. It’s not a staple for me, but I certainly haven’t shied away from it, either. Why? Oh, well, likely for the same reasons everyone else watches it.… Continue reading The Ick.
I’d rather fail trying.
Saturday, May 2, 2026, 6:45 a.m. The whole thing was pretty surreal. Correction: it is surreal. It’s still ahead of me. All of it. The day is here and so it feels like one part of it is done. The anticipation part. The preemptive anxiety that comes just before the thing. Thoughts of what I… Continue reading I’d rather fail trying.
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