Happy Halloween, deer friends! (Like what I did there?)
Apparently this last-minute costume idea was a winner. Many people, including my own brother, did not recognize me when I posted pics! And considering this was a last-minute idea that came together using about $5 worth of supplies, I’d say it was a success! Special thanks to Moose for use of the headband and Kristine for the white and black face crayons!
So, I have this blog I’ve been working on now for a couple of months and it’s just not panning out the way I want it to. I think it’s good, interesting content, but it’s just not writing the way I want it to–I have plenty written and it seems cohesive enough, but there’s something very much missing… not enough connective tissue, not enough soul… not enough something.
I logged on this morning to just say something, anything, because I haven’t posted in a bit, and I saw that blog sitting there. I spent another 45 minutes working on it, thinking maybe since more time had passed, it would be easier to shape it up and get it where it needs to be.
Another lovely visit to the left coast to celebrate my wonderful best friend’s 30th birthday. The trip included many wonderful highlights, including the opportunity to spend time with my Maryland family, a crab feast in the park, a bonfire on the beach, and many delicious meals and wine tastings! Happy birthday, Parr! May there be a thousand more, and may each one be more booze-y and decadent than the last!
Me, Parr, and my 2nd momma after winery #3… That’s why we looked extra happy. And glazed.
I’m more than a little embarrassed to admit that I just spent $20 for sort of mediocre Internet service while on my flight to San Fran–but I weighed my options carefully beforehand: It was between this and an overpriced movie and overpriced Bloody Mary. Although one would argue 2 is better than one, it’s been my finding that inflight cocktails usually taste pretty terrible, and the only way to really make them enjoyable is generally by downing a couple. Plus, I’d get more hours of entertainment from the Internet than I would from the movie/booze combined… look at me, with all my practical, adult decisions! Continue reading
So, I’ve spent the past couple of months working on another little project and it’s finally LIVE to the public! Grief: A Life in 5 Stages is a lit mag focused on the 5 stages of grief–denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance–both in terms of death and other life situations. Contributions include works of fiction and non-fiction, poetry, photography, and original art.
Check out the content that made it to our first printed edition, and if you have something you’d like to add–there’s still time! We will be posting new content to the website on a rolling basis! (You can contribute directly through the site or via firstname.lastname@example.org).
If you’d like to purchase a hard copy of the magazine, you can do so by making a donation on our site and including order info (your name/how many copies you’d like, address) in the Special Notes section. Suggested donation per copy is $3. Print run is limited, so order now before they’re gone!
Being sick the past few days meant that I’ve pretty much been homebound, which then bled into my normal work-from-home days, which means I’ve spent more time at home the past few days than I probably have in months. It’s been weird, but oddly welcomed, although I could have done without the feverish hell that was Friday through Monday. I’m feeling more or less better now. I think a lot of times illness coincides with life things, and it just seemed that perhaps my body was telling me it was time to rid my body/my life of a lot of different toxins. It was good to be forced to completely stop everything, and just recharge and heal.
I’m 30, and at this stage in my life, I thought being greatly affected by a Pearl Jam song was a thing in my past. Sure, I still love “Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town” and “Black,” but I know the appreciation I have for those now is more a nostalgic thing vs an emotionally core-shaking one, as it once was when I was 14 and aching. (Rewinding the cassette I recorded from the radio over and over and over. And yeah, I was probably wearing flannel.) Continue reading