Wednesday, June 24, 2020

“Wish I Knew You...

When I was young. We could’ve got so high.”

Sound on the lake carries. Especially at night. Even murmurs. Sometimes. If it’s quiet enough and the train isn’t passing through. But it’s mostly at night. Voices in a casual tone definitely do. Music, for sure.

It’s amazing what you can catch. Or what’s caught. People who live on a lake know this so, at night, we whisper.

The song by The Revivalists was playing out the back speakers of a boat just now. It was as loud as if it was on the radio in the next room. I pulled out the binoculars to search for the boat from which it came.

My mind drifts. I replay thoughts and moments and touches with (whoever) you (is).

I love the song. And I do. I wish I knew you when I was young.

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

Covid Poem?

You're the perfect, built-in excuse.

Delaying everything. Avoiding anything. Doing nothing.

I call for an appliance repair.

“Well, there’ll be a wait. You know, covid.”

An acquaintance asks,

“Can I stop by?”

“Uh, covid?”

Coarse toilet paper complaints?

Any toilet paper is better than none.

Because Covid.

I get it. I use it. It has become convenient, so universally understood.


Wednesday, June 10, 2020


“My Dear,
Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it's much better to be killed by a lover.
-Falsely yours” 

Charles Bukowski 

Thursday, May 7, 2020

I Don’t Sleep Well to Begin With...

So either the added drama from every single angle this virus is pitching combined with the intensely mundane daily things that occupy my time really have messed with my slumber. You?

A few nights ago, Justin Bieber was mad at he. He hightailed it onto his bus and shut the door. I threw up my hood and walked off. No clue what went down between us because I don’t know much of him except “My momma don’t like you, and she likes everyone.” Who dis about?

Last night, I was invited to this fancy party at which a hundred acquaintances would be attending (read social anxiety for stupid small talk). I brought this little pooch I could carry around with me as a talking point. However, I didn’t talk to anyone but bobbed and weaved my way through the crowd until it was time to leave. It took a while. Don’t know whose dog it was. Mine is 70 lbs.

There are many more. These are the two most recent. And these vivid, over-the-top dreams happen in the hours right before sunrise. Additionally, Illinois has 24 more days of social distancing and mandatory mask wearing. YAY US!

P.S. Of the seven books I’ve read in the last 8 weeks, the best have been Trust Exercise, A Ladder to the Sky (most despicable antagonist in recent memory), My Dark Vanessa and Olive, Again (I missed her something terrible).

P.P.S. My comments are fucked up. Someone can leave me a comment but I can not reply on my own blog. Help!!!

What’s going on in your neck of the woods?

Update Response to Jamie:

Being in a more relaxed state (Indiana) versus Illinois, we were able to dine out for the first time on Tuesday. Something normal! So tired of being hyper-aware of others proximity to me at every turn. I really liked Vanessa but agree that i was happy to have it over as well. Wow, your dreams all take place at night! That’s interesting. Mine seem timeless, not day or night. But I’ll try to be aware of that tonight. Hang in there too.

Tuesday, December 17, 2019

My Best of 2019*

We’re talking books, that is! This was an exciting year outside of the literary sense as well.

*Not necessarily published this year

The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells
Normal People
The End of Loneliness by Benedict Wells (not the erotic novel with the same name)
Daisy Jones and the Six
Ask Again, Yes
Three Women
Disappearing Earth
Crossing to Safety
Tin Man
Women Talking
Night Boat to Tangier

With two weeks left in the year, there will be an update no doubt. Recommendations anyone? Happy reading to you and yours!

UPDATE: I forgot a great one I just saw in my bedside drawer. Asymmetry by Lisa Halliday. So good!

Monday, September 23, 2019

A Vagabond Song by Bliss William Carman

“There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood— 
Touch of manner, hint of mood; 
And my heart is like a rhyme, 
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. 

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry 
Of bugles going by. 
And my lonely spirit thrills 
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills. 

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir; 
We must rise and follow her, 
When from every hill of flame 
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.“

Encountered this brisk, first day of Fall.

Wednesday, September 18, 2019

I Have Small Talk Anxiety

I am so conflicted about my high school reunion this weekend. 
There was a picture taken at our ten year reunion long ago, which we recently passed around our group text chain of ten. Five girls and five guys. 

The ten of us had wide, youthful smiles. Babies, really. Some of us married. Only one couple of the ten of us. Our eyes big and clear and looking ahead. The rest of our lives was out there waiting. We looked happy together.

The same ten from that ancient picture get together at least yearly. In the scheme of things and as rapidly as a year passes especially as we get older, I feel I just saw them. A mini-reunion every year.

This brings me to my inner conflict. 

“So what’s new?”

This question bugs me for some reason at my age and gives me great anxiety. If I haven’t seen you in one, five, twenty-five years and that’s the question you ask? 

I never know where to start so the only answer that comes to mind is, 

“Oh, you know. Status quo. Same old stuff!”

And of course, that’s not true. Tons of shit goes down daily. Who doesn’t if one has a family and responsibilities? Ask me something, anything, more specific!

There was a time where I was fabulously proficient at making idle chit-chat. I had to be because times called for it. But that was oh, so long ago.

Thinking of Saturday, I will be looking at a group of people I haven’t seen in years who are all going to ask me a variation of this same question. Or so it feels to me as I sit here contemplating what to do.

It fills me with anxiety. It just does. I already feel the “fight or flight” response kicking in.

So I asked my hair stylist while in her chair yesterday if I have to go. She said no.

I asked my husband, “Do I have to go to my reunion?”

“I don’t think so. Is it mandatory?”

No, it is not.

I asked three of my closest friends if I have to go. Same response from all of them in one fashion or another, do what I want.

The thing is, I am feeling guilty about it because I said I would go. I also paid $40. Which is nothing compared to the Uber fees I will incur riding to and from the city out to the venue.

It’s not a money thing really. It is an anxiety issue. Or at the very least a “I’d rather be doing anything else” feeling. It is sitting in my gut quite heavily.

For me, it’s about finding comfort and peace and being where my heart wants to be and that is not at my reunion this weekend with old classmates that I don’t keep in touch with because maybe we didn’t want to after all. 

It feels forced.

I will most probably see “The Ten” around the holidays. They will give me shit for not going and I will have a handful excuses on the tip of my tongue. And of course, they won’t buy what I am selling. But it will all be all right anyway.