Several months ago, in one of the more philosophical discussions that Ren and I are so prone to having in the deep hours of the night, she asked me if I were to have a dinner party, and could invite five deceased people, who would make the guest list? She launched into her own lineup, … Continue reading Dinner For Schmucks
Writing
That Girl
I'm not sure if you've noticed. Maybe you haven't thought twice. I'd like to believe that perhaps it's been overlooked, but I'm quite sure it has not. And if you know me- really know me, it's glaringly obvious. Yes. Yes, I am struggling. Yes, I have been verbally vomiting my feelings for the whole world to … Continue reading That Girl
Midlife What?
I… am a liar. I am a thief. I am a crook. I am a cheat. I’m a narcissist, I’m a hypocrite, I’m a procrastinator. I’m crazy, victimized, and maybe a little psycho. I’m a fraud. Even now, as I sit before my computer on one of the rare days when Creativity, the Elusive Bitch, … Continue reading Midlife What?
A Non-Story
I've always heard that writing- or any form of creativity, is a gift, something that we are bestowed with, and ought to be grateful for. This gift is to be honed, lest we break some biblical code, and our use of it is to fulfill some obscure prophecy. I can't personally agree to that, though, … Continue reading A Non-Story
Force Fed Creativity
It happens every time. As sure as the hairy spider hunkering down in the dark corner of my front porch ensnares the diseased, disgusting fly, it happens. Every. Damn. Time. Although not always on my front porch. My brain is like an overstuffed file cabinet, filled with remnants of old paperwork of days gone- paperwork … Continue reading Force Fed Creativity