I wanted to write something about ghosts. Something about how when they show up in your dreams they steal rest from you all night long. Not the kinds of ghosts that wear sheets and chains or the kinds of spectral presences that populate spooky stories. I’m talking about the kind of ghosts that used to live large in your life but that you killed off, metaphorically speaking, so you could move on. About how when…
Normally I try not to get too upset at winter for doing its thing. Just let it run its course. It’ll lose steam and get gone and we’ll see it creeping back in later in the year after it’s run off to have its affairs elsewhere. Hell, I even appreciate that winter gives me a few months of long sleeves, layers, tights, coats and scarves. But this year… You gotta go, dude. Get.
Obsessed with this song. And the video (which is NSFW for one sec because boobs).
Holden has taken to yelling, “Mama! Watch your tongue!” at me unprompted, many times a day. Even when I’m not saying anything inappropriate. And, as rude as he is, he’s right. The tongue is going to get me in trouble some day.
Sleater-Kinney coming back from the dead at this moment in my life is serendipity. Now if Rage Against the Machine could get back to it, that’d be perfection.
I am up late having a rather obnoxious battle with insomnia. This literally never happens to me. I always sleep. I have a regular appointment to keep with my dreams. But tonight I’m being eaten alive and my eyes won’t even shut. You ever think much about humiliation? About that red hot flush you feel at first when it dawns on you that you’re at the short end of a stick of some kind, and…
It’s such a weird thing to watch a child acquire language. When your child is in school full time, he’s picking up all sorts of stuff from teachers as well as the adorable little tykes he’s with all day, on top of the stuff he picks up from you and anyone in your house. So you are never quite sure where some of the stuff comes from. And when he busts out with something hilariously…
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