Blogger Archive

Words

He cannot speak in complete sentences now. He cannot remember words. And yet, for some reason, my father walked out of a hospital in Biloxi, Miss. last week and drove 150 miles down I-10 to an apartment

Tiger in the Bayou

A couple of years ago, my father gave my mother this $500 picture of a tiger in the bayou. The print was done by Louisiana artist George Rodrigue, who is known for his Blue Dog paintings. Proceeds

In Retrospect

All in all, it was a very good trip. We got to get away from the city for more than a night. Avery got to experience new surroundings and, though there were some hiccups, she fared well

Date Night at My House

When we don’t score a babysitter for a hot night out on the town, Friday night around these here parts is about making a terrific meal, sitting down with a drink (or 7,000) and enjoying a movie

Ode to English Peas

Someone called Professor Kathy’s house yesterday and asked when she’d be getting her next shipment of English peas. For the record, Professor Kathy is a professor of architecture, not a farmer or green grocer or anything like

Music Makes the Nerdballs Come Together

Once upon a time I thought it would be cool to start an all-girl rock band named Liquid Bitch. I thought it would be cool even though I can’t really sing too well or play anything but

Incognito

So the other night, I was in bed, half-awake, the drool just sliding out of my mouth as I was watching an E! True Hollywood Story on Eminem because I was too fucking out of it to

Quick, children! Run from the inappropriate lady!

So I’m at the park with Avery this morning, hoping I can run her into the ground so that she would take the nap of champions and I could write all afternoon. And then the hordes descended

Back to the gold lame dress for a minute…

This story is important only to me and a few people who lived it, people with my last name. I tell it because there should be a record of my momma’s sacrifice even if it means unleashing

Longing

Her lower lip was sticking out in a pout, as if she wanted to be there in that preschool music class, tromping around the room with toy dinosaurs and dancing around with pom-poms to swing music with