So I’m totally cheating this week and pulling out some old, unpublished stuff, but it’s kind of fun to look back on some of my thoughts when I was a naive twenty-something. I was reminded of this essay when I once again rejoined the very same dance aerobics class at the YMCA only to find the same two instructors AND the very same Jane with her still stunning legs. So I dug up this little treasure to share with you–from when I was a mom of a single instead of a single mom. Enjoy! Continue reading
I wrote the sketch outline of this shortly after my 30th birthday. This Easter, I felt compelled to flesh it out and finish it. Like a little Easter Egg of too much Destiny! information. Enjoy…
I’ll try pretty much anything once. I’ve bungee jumped. I’ve backpacked Europe by myself. I’ve whored myself out to be in a music video… So when a casual conversation with some members of the opposite sex led to the revelation that a significant percentage of dudes subscribe to the theory that “bare is beautiful,” it got me thinking.
NB: Anyone that has anything closely resembling decency should probably stop right here. Grandma, that means you. Continue reading
You swam through my veins, an intracellular jellyfish searching for the exact spot to nest. You found it in my left ventricle, sending your poison throughout my body with every contraction of my heart. Thump thump, you send a round of kindness. Thump thump, you follow quickly with pervasive apathy. Somewhere in between lies the truth, just a half a beat off.
Your long tentacles reached into the reservoirs of my heart strings, stealing away the pure emotions of love and rage, leaving me an empty ragdoll with a limp smile and button eyes that shine for everyone without a glimmer of my soul beneath. The same hot poker that brought my temper to surface and flushed my face with passion no longer brands forever the souls of my lovers, for I have no love to offer.
The spawn you created when you inhabited my being has found its way to my most precious of assets and taken root in my gray matter, toying with the neurons and stealing my words as they fire between the synapses. Wit appears when matched by peers, but otherwise remains dormant, undecided whether to reemerge a crippled version of its former self or to simply lie in an eternal rest.
Loveless, passionless, uninspired. I am but a gelatinous blob of primordial goo, my essence sucked away by the likes of you.