Those who know me, know that I have an obscene relationship with cookbooks. Other people read psychological thrillers, romance, I dunno, memoir. Ahem. Me, self-help and cookbooks greet me bedside …
Countdown to Christmas
It’s September 25, and so begins the countdown to Christmas. With 91 days until Christmas Day, I say this not to rev consumerism engines, but to orient my mind as …
Embrace the gray
I have short nails because my fingers are always in my mouth. I had a boyfriend who once said, “A friend of mine told me that you should never date …
Drowning
No one has drowned. There aren’t even sorrows worthy of drowning. I can’t remember the last time I had a sip of alcohol. It was probably last September, and the …
I Feel (Think, and Do) Pretty
I don’t care what the critics say; I loved it. I mean, I really loved it. I never laugh at comedies anyway. It takes a lot to get me to …
Ink Bleed Crazy
The other week I ate handfuls of Belgium chocolate almost without noticing. It wasn’t mindless or accidental. It was deliberate and avoidable, but I chose to do it. And then …
Painting and sketching in bed
I would just like to say that I am creating something. A lot of the time I feel like the “somethings” are excuses, or procrastination from doing the real something. …
Orange Dreams
I’m obsessed. There will be some type of happiness study done some time down the road, and they will discover that scent can trigger lasting happiness. Because when I smell …
Protective plans
Today I bought a pillow. I returned a CC cream, a lipstick, and a makeup primer. Primers are a scam. I found a new perfume that reminds me of an …
Shit Blizzard
I have a memory similar to today’s shit story (the memory was recorded here). Both involve dogs and white carpeting and the ever popular ‘rhea. Today we awoke to a …
Imperfect Jack
I heard someone today say that wasted creativity isn’t benign. That when we don’t flex our creative muscles, not only do they atrophy, but it metastasizes into shame. Into hopelessness. …
The Ancestry of New York
As a way of not eating my feelings, I sometimes look to non-food distractions or hobbies to occupy my evenings. I’d like to say that I climb into bed and …