Cooler than You: Stupid Things I Say and Do

There's been an organic breakfast food ad fluttering about the net, and the jist of it is all the super feasts women perform first thing in the morning project from the reel.  One: something like 25 percent of us check email before even getting out of bed. I--if you didn't guess--am one of those women. So, a little after 8 am yesterday--as I didn't have a full cup of coffee in me yet nor was I out of bed--my hazy eyes and comfortable body found a jolting start.  On a day working from home, the lack of commute usually means a few more articles to lazily read and a moment to dick around online. Hence, when I got an alert someone tagged me in a photo on Facebook I didn't think twice about it. Until I opened it. Did I tell you this was at 8 am, well slightly after? Between the lack of coffee and such when I opened the link I was certainly taken aback.  I had forgotten it was even a "day." Then . . . then I saw a photo of me and a friend clowning around at m...

As spring has been slow to rise, life has not been slow on the upswing as we find ourselves saying closer to middle age than not.  Yea . . . I look around, when in the hell did I hit middle aged? Somewhere between 1992 and now I would presume.  Closer to now, but the exact date . . . probably when I started making millennial jokes (some deserving, some just me getting on mid life snark).  Anywho, while I haven’t posted here in a month I have been appearing around the web.   Yes, another moment when I look around and say “how in the hell did that happen?” Let’s see, my main press did an author interview with me.   In it I reveal the secrets of life, love, and happiness.  Okay, well if you’ve either met me or read on here you already know that I long eschewed faith in long term love relationships . . . but, the sides of me that people like certainly appear.  The editors, intern, and such all enjoyed it very much.  Enjoy, if you will....

In the year, plus I've had this tiny basement studio I seem to have lost my mind in it more than once.  Okay, well, probably more than once or twice but . . . the point du jour here: there are moments in life when you have to stand back and laugh, cry, or just throw in the towel.  Lately, as it has been no secret, I've been doing a lot of contemplating of where I'm moving to next.  Boston was long on the life list, as has been parts of Europe, a sojourn (or more like a prolonged stay) in India, and a writer's retreat to France (with a long stop in Paris, the city of my long-time fantasy lover's dream).  Honestly, I can't stomach to think about it all right now . . . the spiral is not a pleasant one to view at the moment.  The sending of articles, the waiting on review, the wonder if the you'll cobble together enough writing checks to pay the bar tab . . .  The markers of life and stress should note: This is not a roach.   Yea.  Twice now I...

Since February has been a revertible roll in the hell fires and outright damnation, leaving me with little desire beyond pouring gasoline and lighting a match to it, I deviate from the broken soul, transgressions of life, disasters and other affairs on the sewing machine, and Lifetime Movies via travel to perhaps loose my NOW card.  Okay, really, I probably lost the NOW card ta couple of weeks back when I saw a mouse--in my trash can--and went running to an upstairs neighbor and banged on the door in panic.  To add to that imagery, I was in a pair of well-worn sweats from an alma matter, a pair of Uggs, and since I was home post working hours I was sans bra.  The wife beater, under the hoodie, did not really shield the bounce as I jumped on the bed when my neighbor pulled that mouse out of my house.   Judge me later.   On that note, since it is Leap Day--a damn fictional day that should be an international holiday since what do you do with this day beyond...