“I wont…Kansas….cold button red venne-mutton.”
This was how we referred to the speech patterns of the people in the unit who can no longer make meaningful sentences out of words. From 2011 until 2014, I worked in a locked unit for dementia patients who were no longer able to care for themselves. I was thinking about that time in my life, and the people I met in the locked unit, today, especially that words didn’t always come easily to them. Continue reading “A Tale from Arcadia, Revisited”
Because of the jobs I’ve had, I’ve lived in some pretty…interesting…. places.
I’ve lived walk up apartments in the city, townhouses in the suburbs, basement studios in small towns, in a yurt [which was WAY too close to roughing it for my liking], and once, in an actual house, in the city of Flemington, NJ. Continue reading “Trumpets in the Cemetery”
At the core of my being, I’m a writer. A storyteller. Always have been.
I love giving voice to stories, listening to stories that others have lived and written….
Loads of people have told me that I should write a book about my life, and I always smile and say, “maybe someday.” Continue reading “It Wasn’t Closure, After All”
It’s international Women’s Day again, and as I read back through my entry from last year, I thought that it was worth a revisit. I thought about editing the old one and just re-linking, but then I changed my mind. It’s always worth honoring those who stand out as touchstones in your history, as pillars in your present, and as beacons in your future. Continue reading “Honor the Women 2.0”
I open my eyes
The room is still dark.
My toes are cold. Actually, all of me is cold.
I pile on another blanket and keep shivering. Continue reading “Raise a Glass to Freedom”
Thirty four mass shooting incidents since January 1 of this year.
For fucks sake, there’ve only been 53 days in the year so far.
And 34 of those days, there’s been a shooting that’s killed or injured 4 or more people.
FUCK. Continue reading “Melt the Fuckers Down”
When I was a kid, I used to walk a mile each way to the elementary school I attended. I’d walk down Hasler Lane to Spruce St, turn right, go down Spruce, turn left onto Elmwood Ave, walk all the way down Elmwood Ave to Maple Street, where I’d turn right and go three more blocks to the school on the corner of Maple and Vine. It was how my mother taught me to get there when I was in Kindergarten, and it’s how I walked every day until one day in third grade, when my friend Amanda, who lived on the other end of my street, asked me to walk to school with her. Continue reading “With a Capital T”
Blessed are the brown people
The shithole countries
The refugees and the homeless
Blessed are the immigrants
For they remind us of the ‘dream’ Continue reading “A Beatitude for Today”
They say that your skin – your epidermis – completely regenerates itself every 27 or so days, so technically, I’m a different person than I was a month ago at this time.
I’ve always found that little tidbit fascinating, and frankly, kinda gross and creepy, in a weirdly cool way. Continue reading “Clearing the Slate?”
What happens when you realize that Christmas just might not be “your” holiday anymore?
This question has been tumbling around in my head since mid-November, and I’ve begun to write about it half a dozen times, only to delete everything and close the computer in frustration.
It isn’t often that I find myself unable to put my thoughts into words, but this is one of those times. Have you ever had thoughts take root so deeply inside the recesses of your own mind that you can’t quite tell if they’re thoughts, or if they’re emotions…..or perhaps some amalgam of the two? Continue reading “Losing Christmas, Finding Peace”