The Question

Currently listening to: Mac Miller, Live from Space
Sipping on: french press coffee (not my first choice, but it’ll do).

-A few weeks ago I had another dream where a friend was pregnant. As you know, this happened a few years back with my buddy G and his lovely wife. When they confirmed the news, I was completely floored! So, in my dream I could only see her hair, but even after she told me, we cried. Each night it was the same concept, different scenario. Scanning through my mental list of who it could be, I finally let it go. Two weeks ago, some friends of ours came over and while we watched the Lions pre-season game, I got a little gut nudge that it was her. Of course I didn’t say anything. That night another dream. On Saturday, while at a BBQ festival downtown, she confirmed it to our entire group of friends. I jumped up, swallowed the piece of blackberry ginger ice pop I was eating and said, “I KNEW IT!” Why the Universe picks my brain to get this information is beyond me. Although, I won’t lie, it is always exciting.

-There’s another poetry contest coming up and the deadline is this Friday. Last night I laid in bed scanning the info on my laptop, mulling it over. Grand prize is having your work published as a chap book, plus 25 copies for yourself. I just don’t know. I just don’t know.

-In the earlier part of the summer, we lost our college radio station during the hours I’m actually awake. You can imagine how stoked my son and I were when we noticed the HD dial had another station. Turns out we found the college radio stations other channel.

-This entire post feels forced and stupid.

-I used to share so much more. There was no forcing. Events were hilarious. I was good at retelling them. I enjoyed sharing them.

-I wish people would quit asking me why I didn’t have any more babies. Or worse yet, give me what my chances are, in percentages, now that I’m 35 and drink two scotches a week. Fuck off.

-I’m ready to start college. Where I’m at now is not where I want to be. In the grand scheme of things, my five year plan needs to get rolling.

-Strike that, reverse it. I hate the term “five year plan.” Ridiculous.

-Why is it so hard to keep up with the laundry?

-I took MD to a concert on Sunday night. We had a great time pointing out the drunk moms. From what I gathered, the look of the summer is cut off shorts, doc martens and flannel shirts. That officially made me feel old.

-In five years, (there’s that phrase again) when my son graduates high school, I hope to take him to Japan. I want him to see where we lived, the phone I used to call home, the vending machines, the beef bowls and oh oh oh…takoyaki by the train station. Over the summer break, he had to read The Last Lecture and then write a list of things he wishes to accomplish/do/share/etc. I noticed one of those things was to hike Mt. Fuji. Hopefully we can make that happen. Even if I have to sell pencils on the street corner.

-I miss my short hair. Already back to a bob. There is zero time to drive up to Nashville for a visit with my brother to cut it. Maybe by Christmas.

-Also, I still want to move to France.

-And make a 15 layer cake.

-And get just ONE poem published.






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Please Feel Free To Laugh With Me

Thirty minutes ago I was getting ready to clean the bathroom when my butt started to tingle.


So I scratched, thinking my underwear pinched me or something.

But it continued.

Then it started stinging.

And tingling more.

And stinging.

So forth and so on.

I jumped up from the tub and yanked my pants down, trying to get a look at my ass in the mirror. Looked okay. Not as tight as it used to be, yknow. I should probably work on that. Maybe it was a zit or something. A random butt hair sticking in my panties. And don’t try and be all holier than thou with the, “Ew! Butt hair?” You got ’em too, don’t lie.

Pulling my pants back up, I head over to the tub to start cleaning. Yet, my butt really started to hurt. Now I’m panicked. I yank my pants down again and walk over to the long mirror hanging on my husband’s closet door.

There are, no joke, like forty bite marks all over my butt cheeks. A slight panic creeps over me. Which means I literally pull all my clothes off in a ridiculous panic. Then I panic more because the shutters are open and the neighbors might see me. Then I bolt over to close the shutters before I realize my bedroom door is open and OH MY GOD WHAT IF MY TEENAGE SON RUNS UP THE STAIRS AND SEES ME?!

Sprinting over to the door, I slam it shut and continue to scratch at my ass. With my bedroom door secured and the shutters closed, I inspect the damage.


Whatever got into my pants lit me up pretty good. However, if I was a bug and trapped against someone’s ass, I’d do the same thing too.

Rummaging around in the bathroom drawers I was able to locate a bottle of calamine lotion and begin smearing it all over my butt. Frantically. I probably used half a bottle of that stuff. As I pull my panties back up it is then that I realize how swollen my ass is. It’s a snug fit. Even after I upgraded to a larger, “I’m on my period and feel like a bloated whale” type panty.

Currently, I am typing this on my stomach and trying to refrain from Googling what may be happening. Because we all know that a simple search such as a “painful bug bite” may lead to the discovery that you’re allergic to soap or some shit.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go smear the rest of that lotion all over my butt.

You can never be too careful.

Yesterday’s Today

Pulling into the garage last night, I noted that it was nearly today when I walked up the stairs and into the kitchen.
The two of you were sitting on the couch, strumming a guitar and a ukelele
Living room washed in a comfortable glow from the four tiny lamps
I kicked my shoes off by the air vent
and started to make myself a sandwich.

Between the sandwich and this morning,
I did not sleep much
The last math equation I did in my head
“It’s now 3 am, if I fall asleep now, I should be able to get a good five hours sleep.”
Six hours it was, when my son walked in to check on me,
The dog curled up against my leg
and the remote control pressed against my face

Before I swung my feet onto the floor
I rolled over to my husband’s side of the bed
and could smell his cologne on the pillows
he must’ve leaned across the bed to kiss me goodbye
that faint smell of sweet cigars and spices
lingered on

There will be no sitting out on the deck this morning
as it’s been raining and there is no sun
the morning has been placed on pause when the sky
stays the same hue.

I sat here on the couch,
staring out the window for a good ten minutes
before making myself a cup of coffee
Turning the television on, I watched a little piece of a paranormal
then suddenly the tv cut off.

That was thirty minutes ago
and I haven’t been able to turn it back on

a sign, I suppose.

To write this,
think that,
jot some to do list down

All while my coffee goes cold and the dog sighs.
I look over at him and say, “I know buddy. It’s the perfect day.”