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you’re invited to my 100,000 hits party!
Hey! Welcome to the party, here’s a blower thingy, go get yourself a jager bomb. After 10 months of this thing called blogging, I just crossed over the 100,000 view mark last night. That is pretty...
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The Summer of ’89. Part 1
It was the summer of 1989, and while most kids were preparing for college in the fall, my friends and I were preparing for our cross-country adventure immediately following graduation. This involved...
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The Summer of ’89. Part 2
Give or take it’s about 2900 miles, roughly 44 hours without stops from coast to coast. We had given ourselves plenty of time for exploring and spontaneity, but our first destination was The 18th...
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My Happy Place
Hello Internet Friendsies, Tomorrow I am getting on one of those big flying things with seats and peanuts and crying children and a tiny bathroom the size of a coffin. You may call it an airplane, but...
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The Summer of 89 Part 3 : Love the One You’re With.
This is Part 3, if you have not read Part 1 and Part 2, catch yourself up first. Enjoy. Britta, Katie, Rob and I loaded up the bus and set off on the long, dusty unpaved road that led back … Continue...
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Beef Stroganoff
I remember the light of the refrigerator spilling out across my mother’s kitchen floor as I stood, overwhelmed and frozen, staring at the contents. The half-empty gallon of milk, the bag of limp and...
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Ron
His slicked back hair was a bag of baby carrots smashed with a copper pipe. A square jaw line was only partially obscured by his matching, well-manicured and untrustworthy beard. He stood an...
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Ron Part 2 : Divorce, Connecticut and Scotch.
In case you haven’t read this yet : Ron. Part 1 ************** After that foreboding introduction, Ron began making regular appearances in our home. Bi-weekly family dinners soon became Friday nights,...
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Ron, Part 3 : Black Sheep
Ron : Part 1 Ron : Part 2 Ron : Part 3 Over the course of a year, the situation became dangerously volatile when Ron lost his mystery job, at which point he sold his house in Connecticut and moved …...
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On the path.
I’m going to interject here, present time, and jump out of the past for a bit. I will let you all know that I am indeed, writing a book. It is a memoir, although “memoir” sounds like something a...
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Skate Land Circa 1983
The first time I ever got drunk, or high, happened to be on the same night. It was 1983 and I was twelve years old. The Cockeysville Skate Land reigned supreme on Friday and Saturday nights. Everybody...
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Ron, Part 4. Montrose
There are 4 parts leading up to this: Ron Ron Part 2 Ron Part 3 Skate Land Circa 1983 (although it does not have “Ron” in the title, it fills in the gap between part 3 and this) And now, … Continue...
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Ron, Part 5. The End
There are 5 parts leading up to this: Ron Ron Part 2 Ron Part 3 Skate Land Circa 1983 (although it does not have “Ron” in the title, it fills in the gap between part 3 and this) Ron, Part … Continue...
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Farmer’s Bread
Farmer’s Bread In 2001 I was living in Maryland, and had recently begun dating my future ex-husband. About five months into our relationship, his mother, Darriel, was diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer. It...
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Hammen Avenue : My Earliest Memory
Our old house on Hammen Avenue was a modest cape cod, gray, with black shutters and a red front door. The chain-link fenced back yard was home to my swing set, sandbox, and the old oak tree that...
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Acute Myeloid Leukemia : Part 1
When I first arrived at work, I called my mom in the hospital, like I did every morning. On this particular morning however, she sounded extremely tired, confused, and even admitted to not feeling very...
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Acute Myeloid Leukemia : Part 2
My breath was hijacked, optimism instantly atrophied, and tears of recognition erupted in endless supply, as once again, disease eclipsed our world. In an all too scientific and rehearsed way, she...
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Acute Myeloid Leukemia : Part 3 : The End
I insisted that my boyfriend, Taggart, go on the trip without me, there was nothing he could do, and after much debate he went. Family and friends were ushered into the room in shifts. It was a river...
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Aftermath.
Here’s another fun fact. Mom didn’t have a will. The woman was a financial planner, a fucking CEO, this was the kind of shit she did for a living, yet she didn’t have a will. Everyone was astounded, in...
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The Farm : Part 1
Growing up there was always one constant in my life, and that was The Farm. Aunt Penny, Uncle Wayne, Sonja and Wayne Jr. – or little Wayne as everyone called him – lived on a 200-acre farm in...
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