Dear Darling Ones, I am not a joiner. Like Groucho Marx, I don’t want to be a part of any club that will have me as a member. Some of this comes out of self-preservation, rejecting people before they can reject me. Some of this comes from snobbery. I tend to think anything that is wildly, insanely popular across a broad range of people is…
Hi Darling Ones, My brain is pretty much a never-ending jukebox. I sing songs I know, songs I don’t know,* songs I make up, and nonsense jibber-jabber constantly. I am the star of a very special musical in my mind. The only time I turn it down is when I’m sleeping it off. Ha! I just wanted to get that line in because I love…
Hi Darling Ones, Not only did I sleep like total garbage last night, I had one of those dreams that you can’t shake off and infects your entire day. Every time my brain is still for more than 12 seconds flashes of the dream come back. I’ve spent most of the day feeling pensive and low-key icky despite bailing on all my productivity plans. I…
Well, Darling Ones, It has come to my attention that I should treat Memorial Day weekend (MDW) like it’s New Year’s Eve. Every year during this weekend I decide that now is when I am going to get my shit together.* This is the time when I clean out the loft in preparation for summer guests. I make vague resolutions for myself. I put the…
Hi Darling Ones, Aside from giving a humongous presentation on a project I spent the past threeish weeks building, I’ve spent the past two days alternately napping, reading a biography of e.e. cummings, and having meals with various members of my family (Chinese with The Olds last night, Popeye’s with Maxwell this afternoon). The cummings’ biography was a sad disappointment. He’s a genius poet but…
Hi Darling Ones, I’ve decided that I really like the letter writing conceit. It reminds me of this episode of Dawson’s Creek where a bunch of intrepid English majors have to figure out who Rose Lazar, “a famous writer from the twenties like Dorothy Parker, but not” is writing her most personal and intimate letters to. Surprise, it’s herself! So the conceit continues until I…
Dear Darling Ones, Here we are. This is the end of the COVID Diaries, a project I started on March 19, 2020 out of the need to cope with everything going on. Writing is how I make sense of myself, the world, and my place in it. All of those things needed a lot of words over the last fourteenish months. When it comes to…
Hi Darling Ones, I need wrap up this whole answering the questions things because I made the header images awhile ago and tomorrow is the last entry in the COVID Diaries.* Fun Fact: If all I ever wrote about was being a 6’5″ woman, Dawson’s Creek, and Tootsie Pop flavors I would be the most popular blogger in all the land. I’d be the Homecoming…
Dear Darling Ones, As our time together under the umbrella of the COVID Diaries comes to a close, you should know there were no tears in the typing of this post. Thus far there have been no tears in the living of this day. There was supposed to be a new plant delightfully called Job’s Biblical Tears and it was going to live nestled between…
Dear Darling Ones, It happened. I tipped over into an obsession with The Marfa Tapes. It’s like Julien Baker all over again, which was Kathleen Edwards all over again, which was Waxhatchee all over again, which was. . . you get the picture. We all recognize that I have obsessive tendencies. I probably don’t need to illustrate them every time. I found The Marfa Tapes…
