I woke up yesterday with a cold sore. My lip was swollen and blistery and I was pretty sure the world was ending.

Turns out I’m still here. I think everyone else is, too. Apparently, the Mayans weren’t trying to predict anything; they just got sick of calendar-making.

Don’t think I wasn’t worried,

I’ve been thinking about God lately.

I imagine a guy enamored with model trains, spending all his time in the basement painting tiny evergreen trees and rail cars carrying fake coal and those yellow and black striped crossing signs. The Big Engineer knows every detail of the goings on in Train Town. He

Someone I dearly loved died this week.

After I found out she had passed, I turned invisible. Creatures around me became their own planets, rotating in separate orbits. Someone turned down the earth’s volume knob and the little pilotman in charge of keeping our world spinning slowed everything down.

The squirrel outside my

Like most Americans, I dutifully spent Turkey Day in full consumption mode. I ate more turkey and potatoes and stuffing than I had capacity to digest and so, spent the next day combating killer heartburn and indigestion. Feeling like an idiot. I did put the hurt on the TUMS, though,

I did it! Finally. After months of hand wringing and yammering on about how I need a change, I sneaked away on Sunday to one of those cheap places with Master in the name, signed in on the clip board, and a few minutes later…presto…

Bangs.

I now have a thick mop of fluff

So I’m at this retirement party for these two guys my husband used to work with and I’m talking to this woman–another former co-worker of my husband, but also a friend of mine–who mentions she read (at least started to read) the original story I tried drafting in real-time on

So it’s my last day at the Vermont Studio Center in Johnson, Vermont, and I’m already sad. And sappy.

I’ve met the most amazing artists from all over the world, and I hate leaving them.

Did I get a ton of writing done, not really. But, oh! What an experience.

I met Ron

Usually I give it up for free. Now I feel used and I haven’t even held the check in my hand, just a contract promising me $250. (I hear that’s good money for what I just did.)

Yeah, that’s right. I sold a piece of myself…A piece of writing.

I thought it would

Of course I couldn’t officially attend Tin House’s writing extravaganza this past week—it’s like $1,100. And of course I’ve been plotting for months to go anyway.

The thing is, I’ve been to enough of these writing confabs to know they’re a bit like weddings. Everybody’s slightly drunk and blissed-out and wouldn’t know if you’re a

My ridiculous hair.

I need to cut my hair off. It’s long and heavy and ridiculous.

But I don’t want to. Maybe long hair reminds me of being young…

That’s the problem, see? I’m NOT young. I’m on the verge of forty, and the locks need to go before I “cross

I’m not sure why I love this mural. It’s painted on a building along Seattle’s busway in the SoDo Urban Art Corridor.

Maybe it’s the absurdity or the tension or the cat’s pink party hat or the red star on the girl’s pocket.

There’s something about the look in that Girlie’s wild cartoon

Offline. What a weird concept. It didn’t even exist back in the eighties when the most we could do to “disconnect” was take the phone off the hook.

Which I never did.

That was back when I was the social version of myself.

Now I’m more a hermit version, but I still can’t