If we were to start anew, we might do it all differently, bolstered by knowing. We might be less like first-time lovers or new puppies, fumbling between tentative and exuberant. We might first take stock in ourselves, be realistic about our imprinting. We might bow first, out of respect, thinking less about how each could … Continue reading This old house.
This story will be less risqué than you might fear, or hope: I bought myself, sort of by accident, a purple lace bra for Christmas. We were out looking for stocking stuffers and standard Santa fare, my daughter and I, trying to get it all done in one single open-air-mall expedition because I quite hate … Continue reading Warning. (AKA “the year I accidentally bought a purple bra for Christmas”)
I don't want to jinx things or tempt fate, but it's looking like I will make it through 2015 and into a new year. Which means it's about the time that I normally compile and share my 50 Happy Things list, the time-limited, year-in-review free-write that I started a couple of years ago to give … Continue reading On lemons, lessons, love.
Here's something important: getting up. Get. Up. That's how I say it to myself, sometimes. Actually, that's almost always how I say it to myself, sometimes aloud, especially during the school year. Get. Up. Jennifer. Do it now. I say this to myself when it is still dark outside and the alarm has gone off, … Continue reading The gift of melancholy.
I am in the opposite of a hurry, trying to match my soggy, flip-flopped pace to the slow drizzle that was falling when my passengers got dropped off, before I maneuvered the car in between two mammoth SUVs, slipped it into gear in the vast, mostly-empty parking lot. A fraction of a second later, just … Continue reading Bullseye.
It is autumn, occasional chill begging a blanket's comfort, occasional warmth reviving sandal straps. These are unpredictable days, suspended somewhere between bronze and silver. Foggy morning mist gives way, perhaps, to unexpected sun. But, then again, maybe not. Clarity may lurk just out of reach. It is hard to feel settled in this season, the … Continue reading A woman in season.
Perhaps the real purpose of keeping a journal is for the assurance, at some later date, that one is still oneself - voice, hand, and eye as distinct as fingerprints. The years spanned are a blur, but each minute is frozen in crystalline precision. Only in time do the entries divulge what they always were: … Continue reading The beauty of an ordinary life.
So, I've been on a diet, which is to say that I've been following a regimented eating plan in order to achieve physical results, namely weight loss. I hate dieting. More than I hate the actual dieting part, though, I hate talking about dieting, because usually talk of dieting is tied to discussion of weight … Continue reading Daily diet of worms.