Blog

In Defense of Getting Bored

Scan 129.jpgI’m a bad reader.

Like many other things I’ve accomplished in my life due purely to a desire to prove other people wrong, I learned how to read out of spite. To make a long childhood story short, I skipped the majority of 2nd grade thanks less to a belief in my academic abilities, and more to a surprisingly effective attitude that I would be ok because I had no other choice. Coming out of a Los Angeles hippie commune filled with celebrity children and teachers who believed I would do things when I “was ready”, I found myself in a summer school program designed to keep kids with working mothers occupied, unable to write in print, and unable to read. Continue reading “In Defense of Getting Bored”

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Flash Fiction

Impossible Odds

Version 2I don’t think it’s love that’s a lie, but maybe the way that we tell it. What are the odds of happiness, anyway? The American Dream seems statistically unlikely, when you think about it.

When I left you I thought it was, in a word, impossible. Impossible to have happened, impossible to live with. Even leaving halfway across the world didn’t seem quite far enough to make you Gone. What followed was a year that didn’t feel real; twelve months in someone else’s job, reminding myself that this suspended foreign reality was temporary, and that I would go home and go on with my life because there were no other choices, even if you wouldn’t be there anymore. I opened the cracked window above my head that slanted over the roof of my little blue room up in the mossy, cloudy spires of Somewhere New, and I thought about my choices. London lay in stone before me- infinite possibility still so limited by time and money and energy. By me. I hadn’t slept in months, between the best and the worst of the last year, and I couldn’t sleep then.

Continue reading “Impossible Odds”

Blog

Mr. Z

festival-tom-and-lemon-croppedAs the sun starts to peek out from behind the unusually grey February clouds, a young woman’s mind turns to Festival Season: where the flower crowns fund Etsy shops for the winter months, and CamelBak sales are at their urban retail peak. Aside from the one vacation day a year I ration for the glory of overpriced beer and extortive merchandising, my favorite festivals mean a weekend sighting of the Bay Brigadoon: my Bestie, BFF, Biffles, the Only Long Distance Relationship I Believe In, the notorious Mr. Zen. Continue reading “Mr. Z”

Poetry

The List

file-nov-26-9-58-56-am

  1. They think Lee Harvey Oswald was trying to kill Governor Connally instead- did I ever show you the musical about this? It doesn’t have James Franco, though. Sorry.
  2. There’s an Ugly Christmas Sweater with the alphabet lights from Stranger Things; I also started liking it right after that episode. Probably should have mentioned it earlier.
  3. My cousin is a Surprise Republican, which my dad absolutely loves, even though he didn’t vote third party. I have to put a Cessation for Peace on political discussion in this house, however. For all of our sakes.
  4. I started making lists again, not parceling my words this time so much as putting them somewhere, anywhere, besides that little white box and pressing send.
  5. The things I’m trying not to say are building tally marks on the inside of my eyelids
  6. It’s so much worse to remember happiness, than to remember pain
Blog

A Tale of Two Betches

golden-rule

My favorite teacher, discussing the practical applications of Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet, used to say that tragedy was best defined by a bad turn of events, which could have been avoided. The kind of malfeasance that wouldn’t have happened if, for example, Romeo had an iPhone 7 and could’ve gotten Juliet’s “I’m dropping some dope shit the apothecary gave me so I’ll be out for a day, kthnxdontkillurselfbai” text- assuming that Romeo hadn’t already used up his data posting sad selfies on Instagram with superimposed, whiny fuck boy poetry about that bitch ass Rosaline who, let’s be honest, kind of dodged a bullet there. Continue reading “A Tale of Two Betches”