Monthly Archives: October 2006

Reunited (and it Sucks, Honey.)


So last weekend I went to Cowtown to a family reunion (my father’s side). Most of the people there I’d not seen in eight or more years.

The weekend was a good reminder of why that is so.

When you come from small-town midwest farm stock, one of two things happens: Either you stay or you get the hell out. My father got the hell out. His four siblings stayed.

Problem isn’t that they stayed there. Problem is they never decided that being racist assholes was a problem.

When my dumbass, self-righteous cousin Annie yelled that my baby cousin Brock had wantered into “The Black People’s Room!” it would have been enough. But when her MOTHER leaned over to tell a stupid and derogatory joke about black people, as if I would think it was funny, I left the table.

You know what?

It’s not funny. And if it had been about rednecks or racists or pigs I’d have thought it just as tasteless.

That was a small part of the weekend, on the first day. I was never so glad to have my children around as a distraction. They were gorgeous and sweet and well-mannered. And I kept them at a good distance from too much of the adult conversations, just in case someone said something despicable.

I hate that people disappoint me, even those who have never done anything but. This was not abnormal behavior on that side of my family, but it’s still embarrassing and hard to admit that I’m related to these people.

It’s frustrating when I think of how, when my siblings, cousins and I were young we’d spend summers exploring the creekbeds running through my grandparents’ farm, swinging on ropes from barn rafters and playing king of the haystack.

Grownups smoked cigarettes and sat around making racist comments while we caught lightning bugs and popped honeysuckle flowers onto our fingertips and worried about when we’d be forced to bathe again.

We lived in childhood fantasies, giving little thought to adult things. We were kids. We were the same.

And now we’re adults.

And we couldn’t be more different.

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Filed under Parenting, Stories


Can I just say that trying to schedule school drop-offs, house cleaning, an IM interview, a new massage client and a sex date before I leave town for two days is like, torture?

I need more coffee.

Pray for me, people. I’m going to the land of “Where you at?”

Good news is: I finished the Clapotis a couple of weeks ago, knitted some lovely handwarmers and a top-down raglan sweater for Miles, using no pattern. Yeah, bitches, I totally winged it.

Okay, it’s going to fit Jack. But now I can start on Miles’ and just make it way the hell bigger. Something to do while I try to remain calm in the face of so many grammatical errors.

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When you put chicken, onion, garlic, celery and carrots in a Crock Pot and add water, salt and pepper it is going to start smelling really good in your house.

If you remember to plug the goddamned thing in.

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Good Call

So, Sam. I’m in town for the game. Actually, Colton and I are in town for the game.

Colton? Man, I haven’t seen that guy in years.

I know. So, can we see you sometime? Can you get away?

Yeah, I might be able to swing it later tonight. I’d love to see you.

Awesome. Call me later.

Sure. . . Uh, Madeline?


Are you and Colton hooking up?


Colton: Yes! Yes we are, dammit!

(I love how cell phone earpieces just project so well in a car)

No, really, we’re not.

Colton laughs, gets out of the parked car and puts money in the meter.

Seriously, Maddie, I wouldn’t travel as far as he did just to watch a football game.

Sam, seriously, do not have this conversation with me. I am not sleeping with Colton and it’s my second straight day without an orgasm, so please stop talking about sex.

Two days? That’s not very long.

For me it is.

I love you.

Love you, too, baby. Come drink with us later. Bring a friend.

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Jordan just IMmed me.

She passed the bar exam.

I never thought I’d be happy to have another lawyer walking the earth, but she’s such a good person and she has a conscience.
Plus, she looks killer in a suit.

Man, I miss that girl.

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Think on These Things


  • Being awake at 5:30 AM when it’s way quiet.
  • Organic espresso at $7.99 a pound.
  • Drinking said espresso whilst eating chocolate cake at 5:30 AM when it’s way quiet.
  • Wearing the most comfortable Old Navy lounge pants during above food orgy (I love that they say “intimates,” because they are the closest things to my skin, not because I’ll ever use them to woo a consort.).
  • New baby nieces, yours and mine.
  • Friends who say “I love you.”


Filed under Quiet, Writing

Church Mouse

Yeah, that’s me.

Here is my hope for the coming year: That my former husband will somehow realize that rent is due on the first and Late. On. The. Fifth. That means a Late Fee is incurred on the sixth.

Can I mention as well that the same holds true for Daycare Tuition?

Man, if he could just understand that aspect of adult living, life would be grand.

Check’s in the mail. Because apparently it didn’t make sense to leave one when he was Here Visiting on October First.

Add $125.00 in fees to that, sweetheart.


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Filed under Divorce, Frustration

Crawling Through

You know the feeling when you’re skin to skin with someone and you’re not close enough? The feeling that you want to forge your bodies together like steel, strong and impervious against the elements? You know that feeling?
I’m not talking about fucking.

I’m talking about lying together kissing, touching, hands traveling, breath catching, lips sucking, noses tracing making out. And you have this feeling that you want to be one person together. And you hold tightly to them and you will this thought–this wish–to be granted by the universe.

You can’t verbalize it. So you shut your eyes tightly and you wish it.

Sometimes you’re lucky. Sometimes you’re with that person and they’re making the same wish.

And sometimes you’re already the same person. You just inhabit two earthly bodies.

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Filed under Love, New York, Writing


I’ve been awake since 5:45. I lay in bed, wrapped up, trying to sleep, relax, breathe, let go but I couldn’t get my thoughts to stop.

My stomach feels sick. Like there’s a hollow place that needs to be filled and not with food or drink. I take deep breaths and blink my eyes.

My mouth has that sick-in-bed-all-day funky taste that doesn’t go away even after you brush your teeth.

And my damn heart hurts. I think of tearing it out and leaving it behind. Just give it away. Because there must be some way to say goodbye that doesn’t hurt like this.

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Filed under Love, New York