nablopomo

We interrupt this regularly scheduled blogging...

...to bring you some self promotion. Earlier this year (July, I think), I was interviewed for a Blogger Beat podcast episode.

How to be home

Been home for almost three days and I still haven't unpacked. Truth is, I never fully unpacked from the Texas trip--there were just four days between that arrival and the next departure. So now my suitcase remains full, rifled through every morning as I pull out clean socks and that top I never got around to wearing in Joshua Tree.

I'm just waiting on a friend ...

It was a sunny day in late May as I perched on the steps to my New York third floor walk-up. A Friday morning, I think--10 a.m. 1998. The movers were already two hours late and as my U-Haul blocked off part of the street, double-parked with hazard lights flashing, I wondered just what the hell I was going to do. With the dozens upon dozens of boxes cluttering my tiny studio apartment.

Gone ...

Headed to Joshua Tree and Pioneertown (and Pappy & Harriet's). So, for now...(this counts as a blog post, right?)

All of these lines in my face getting bolder ...

I feel as though BlogHer's NaBloPoMo prompt was written for me, specifically:  Do you enjoy growing old or do you fight against it?

Shut up Time, why is this even a thing?

Listen, I was totally prepared to come here and start ranting about Time's asinine  "Which Word Should Be Banned in 2015" thingie but frankly I really just don't have the energy to dissect just how a national, respected magazine could lump in the word "feminist" in with words and phrase

What we worry about when we worry about trying not to worry

Today's NaBloPoMo prompt asks: "If you could permanently get rid of one worry, what would it be?

The question seems odd both in syntax and context, For starters, it sounds as if it it's asking which worry I'd like donated to Goodwill and carted away, thank you very much. 

Ancient battles, lingering feuds and immeasurable love

This trip ended with echoes of how it started.

5 Tips for Visiting Your Republican Mother

What's that saying about picking your friends, not your family? Essentially this just means you're stuck with the people with whom you share bloodlines. And that can make for some awkward moments.

Because common bloodlines don't necessarily mean common values, shared interests, or, especially, a similar political outlook.

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