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• The relatives are coming. Bring out the Xanax!

  Posted on Tuesday November 24th, 2009 at 12:00 in thanksgiving, family holidays, just act normal, cabbages and kings

  Long ago, my husband worked as a bartender. Know which day was the busiest bar day of the year? The day before Thanksgiving. I have speculated that people might need a night of drinking to prepare themselves for a day with their families. On the oth...

• I serve as comic relief.

  Posted on Friday November 20th, 2009 at 11:16 in childhood, relatives, condoms, just act normal, prophylactic

  Holidays with my bio-dad’s side of the family were usually pretty grim – my relatives would spend an hour or two of cheeriness followed by lots of drinking, followed by unintelligible arguments, shouting, and accusations. Then all of us c...

• I hope I’m invited to the wedding.

  Posted on Thursday November 19th, 2009 at 14:37 in marriage, Wedding, adult child, engagement, abnormal motherhood, adult daughter

  “So, Mom,” said First Born. “What do you think about me and Erich moving to Wrigleyville?” “I think it would be fun for you.” I said. “But I’m going to miss seeing you all the time.” A little late...

• To Write Love on Her Arms

  Posted on Saturday November 14th, 2009 at 12:02 in healing

  “You were created to love and be loved. You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known. You need to know that your story is important and that you’re part of a bigger story. You need to know that you...

• Volare means “to fly”.

  Posted on Wednesday November 11th, 2009 at 17:52 in first car, grandpa, station wagon, volare, my ex-life, tire maintenance

  I was in my old neighborhood the other day, a place I rarely have business and never visit for old time’s sake. It was the neighborhood where I lived with my grandparents, right after high school. Something about the bright fall leaves and the ...

• Bedtime with Moby Dick

  Posted on Monday November 9th, 2009 at 18:49 in marriage, writing, english language, greek mythology, hyperborean

  He turns out his nightstand light while I put down Moby Dick and pick up my phone. “Are you calling someone this late?” “No, I’m looking up a word.” He rolls his eyes up to heaven, as if he’s appealing to God for m...

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