Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Oh kids, we are in a funk, a dirge, a deep blue fugue. This is the part of life when emails sit unreturned, when we need them most, phone calls hang in the balance, unanswered little spectral molecules hovering cruelly in the atmosphere. I feel entombed in a cottony hazy fluff--that gray silky cotton ballerinas stuff into their toe shoes. Which is apt since it's what they use to buffer the pain of their unnatural stances.
I shan't bore with all the mundane details. The rainy day is mirroring things well enough.
Let's think about summer vacation, that faraway land before everything shifted and turned weird.
Cynicism is another word for reality
Email me, you derelict wastrel
Tina Brown Slut Redux
Rainmakers and Therapy Scarves
"The Days of Awe" by Hugh Nissenson
A Heartwarming Moment of Staggering Cuteness
O Happy Refuge!
Lay Lady Lay
Let's Learn About Friday Morning
Paycock Press "Enhanced Gravity: More Fiction by Washington Area Women"(JUNE 2006!!!!)
Chattahoochee Review Winter 2002
Main Street Rag, Volume 7, Number 4, Winter 2003
Pangolin Papers Spring 2001
Gorgeous Cape Cod Paintings
The New Yorker
Reader of Depressing Books
Sexy Brussels Lady
The Washington Post
I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Wino
The Wit Memo