I made the mistake of opening my email program, where I saw B’s incredibly romantic, sweet, and erotically erudite love notes to me.
Now I’m sitting here crying like, well, I don’t know what it’s like. Just crying.
I made the mistake of opening my email program, where I saw B’s incredibly romantic, sweet, and erotically erudite love notes to me.
Now I’m sitting here crying like, well, I don’t know what it’s like. Just crying.
My aunt Flossie was the center of our family. The one who made meatballs, over decorated for Christmas, was strict and permissive at the same time, took care of every kid that came within range, made orange soda [more...]
So. Anyway. Two words I just realized that I use a lot on this blog. Here’s what’s up. I think I used to post a lot more political stuff on the blog, I think because I was so outraged and felt so isolated [more...]
I’ve resisted the call of the podcast, noting that it caught on so quickly that I didn’t have time to be an early adopter — and if I can’t be fast, I don’t wanna do it at all. So there. In [more...]
