Monthly Archives: August 2013


5 Movies

5 Movies

A challenge from a friend: 5 movies I found scary/upsetting/disturbing.


Another school semester will soon begin. If you’re in school, are you looking forward to starting classes? If you’re out of school, what do you miss about it — or are you glad those days are over? — The Daily … Continue reading

A Pinker Side

“When the full moon happens, you turn into a person who’s the opposite of who you normally are. Describe this new you.” — Daily Post for August 20, 2013

I straighten up

Head back, chest forward

The only colors on me are the ones that look good on me, or so I’ve heard:

Pastels, pinks, greens

An hour early, I’m up to do my hair,

My makeup must be perfect

How could anyone see me looking less than chiseled, polished, prepped?

I do as I’m told

No questions

Everything is early to bed, early to rise

There’s some free time at the end of the day, sure,

But I’m not going anywhere

Not when my family is at home waiting for me

I am the perfect cookie-cutter wife/mother/partner

Submitting to the mold that’s for me

Only appropriate, only proper, only in daylight

Because at night, after dishes are done and everybody is in bed

I go out, and I’m a street fighter

Bashing brains in, letting all that Mrs. Manicured, Mrs. Gee Whiz Okeydokey

Tear out a motherfucker’s throat

I am feared and loved

The cunt of your nightmares

Because there is nothing more pure and beautiful and terrifying

Than white-hot, white-gold fury that manifests itself

In blood


And glory.


And when the sun comes up, I wake up


Because my hair is still perfectly coiffed

Except for somebody’s tooth caught in a ringlet.


What would your dark side be like? Would it really be so dark or just…different?

Between the Ears

We all have things as need to do to keep an even keel — blogging, exercising, reading, cooking. What’s yours?

“I’m going to put my ears in.”

“Ears” is a term I learned at my current day job a few years ago. It’s short for earbuds or a headset of some sort. It used to sound awkward, odd. How can you put your ears in? But after some time, I took up this piece of pidgin…along with many types of ears. I have about 10 different types of earbuds, and my prized possession is a set of large, sound-cancelling headphones with the color scheme of R2D2.

I don’t get a lot of time alone these days. And I’m working on slowly changing that, but there are a lot of moments where that isn’t an option. You see, I work from home. So does my husband. My writing career and other hobbies also make me a bit of a homebody, and there are some parts of the week where my partner is the only person I interact with.

But when I really have to hone in? When I really just need to be nestled inside the bubble of my own space and focus – or, better yet, zone out entirely, flick the auto-pilot button and sit back – I put my ears in. I make a date with Audible or Damien Rice or Netflix or a podcast or even just let the white noise simulate  a rainstorm, waves, airplane noise, and it’s like all the entrances and exits inside my head have been closed off.

I’ve barricade the door.

I’ve closed off the escape hatch.

I think we’re alone now.

Quirkyalone: Five Acts

  1. When my sister goes away to college, I am now and again in Williamsburg with my mother. She is busy, and I walk across the street to a coffee shop. It’s small and quiet and I settle in because, like Goldilocks, I’ve found a place that’s just right. I’ve slipped soundlessly into a quiet time in my life when there is no Internet, no boys, no margin of error. I order a raspberry bar, sweet and decadent with a crumble on top. I sit and pretend – like when I go to the library where my mother works – that I am a part of this sophisticated university with a very nice book, a small treat and all the time in the world to myself.


  1. I board the #6 Broad Street bus on a sunny Saturday afternoon. It hums and rumbles and moves, a stormcloud that makes its way back and forth, east to west across Richmond. I sit alone, forehead pressed against the cool glass, scanning the passing faces and bodies, shops and sidewalks. It’s neither too hot or cold this afternoon, eventless, and the city is lazing about. All ages board, and all ages part. I glance up as I realize that the bus is stopping to rest at the farthest part from where I’ve started. The driver and I exchange glances, and something passes between us. For him: suspicion, confusion, a little wonder because it’s so clear I have no destination. For me: a question that keeps arising for months now, and that is what could be wrong with me.


  1. There’s a book at the university bookstore. It looks fun with bright colors and small annotations designed in the pages, like it’s been drawn in for me. It says, “Quirkyalone: A Manifesto for Uncompromising Romantics.” I read the first two pages and when I walk to the counter to buy it, I feel like I am breathing for the first time.  I am alone and not alone, grateful for this moment where I can touch that frantic, clawing creature in my chest and say, Shh. It’s all right. Now we know.


  1. The world welcomes me like a quiet friend. I walk miles in Washington DC, creating figure eight footprints at the zoo and only going to the parts of the Smithsonian I like. In San Diego, I spend countless minutes staring out at the Pacific Ocean, open my arms and let the smell of it love me like I love it. In New York, I let the busy energy carry me like a leaf, jump into cabs, jump out again. When I drive, I howl out the window. I stop when I need to, but mostly I soak. I bask. I speak to no one, and I open my ears to everything. There is no nest, there is no shell, not for me. I just go.


  1. We are learning to dance. Instead of steps, we have words, and I try not to step on his toes. I am waltzing around him to show the space that is necessary between our bodies, to explain how we can still touch without invasion. We are both beginning to understand that leading is an illusion, that each is dependent on the other for connection, cohesion. We can be graceful or have two left feet; sometimes there is no fixing, and we have to step away. But after a time, we always come back together, touch hands and one and two and one and two and –

I Made a Thing

I Made a Thing

Remember that post yesterday?

5 Things That I’m Surprised It Took Me So Long To Get Into But Are Now Absorbing My Life

1. Netflix.

2. Sherlock.

3. Attack on Titan.

4. Welcome to Night Vale.

5. Frozen yogurt.

Yup. It’s that kind of day, folks.