The Story of You
“'I should have stayed at the dance.'” That’s what I was thinking as I sat in my friend’s car. The mood was tense. Julie had insisted on leaving the dance right after Homecoming Queen was announced. She hadn’t won like she’d hoped. I had." These are the beginning...
Learning To Make Mistakes
"Why do you work so hard?" my friend Deb asked me the other day. "You seem like you're in such a hurry to get somewhere." "I think I'm trying to get to a sense of rest," I said. "Some place on the other side of all this hard work where I'll feel calm." "But you never...
Walking My Talk
The thing about being someone who promotes truth telling - on the page and off - is that when you’re not walking your talk you know it immediately and it’s hard not to feel like a big ol’ liar. Of course I’m being a little hard on myself; I’m human, I make choices,...
Wheezing and Squealing
“So how many different fetal positions have you discovered?” my friend Jane asks as we set out for our evening walk. She’s smiling, but that’s because the sad ass year when she separated from her husband was over a decade ago. Now she can laugh. The thing about having...
Messy, Gorgeous Process
What if I told you that it took me ten years to understand what I was teaching? It looked like I was teaching people how to write, but what I was actually doing, I realized late in the game, was teaching writers how to peel away the layers of their story and dig for...
The Smallest Things
The note your ten-year-old writes you because she heard you crying in the bathtub. "Mommy, we love you very much. Who wouldn't?" The way she comes in while you're laying there in three inches of hot water; depleted, exhausted, alone, and how she tacks her little note...
One Stinky Breath at a Time
My adorable Chinese medical doctor, Scott Blossom, tells me that the lungs are connected to grief – which explains my love affair with cigarettes this past week. I wasn’t going to tell him I was smoking, and planned on not having a smoke until after our 5pm...
The Transvestite, the Smoker and My Grandmother Underwater
A long time ago, in another life, I was an eager, young journalist - delighted to take any assignment I was offered from my editor at the East Bay Express. I'd scoot around the streets of Berkeley writing stories about local artists, pieces on the new trend in juice...
Real Cowboy Poetry
There’s poetry in not getting what you want. Tugging hard at the flower that doesn’t break easily from the bush. It’s not yours. So when my last two texts to the cowboy went unanswered, I realized, shoot, a door was being closed on me hard and I wasn't ready. I’m...
That Sneaky, Sneaky Nap
In honor of Plant a Kiss Day ** (Sunday, April 29) I decided that instead of doing what was suggested – which was to spread a little love in the world – doing generous deeds like some of my incredible friends came up with - giving away bundles of lavender, setting up...