I've been making an effort recently to begin writing fiction more often. Last week it came out in the form of a Gilmore Girls parody. (You tease the ones you love.) This week it came out as something...odd, for me. And here it is ( Read more... )

Dear Sylvia Plath ( Read more... )

When you told me ( Read more... )

Photos. New.

God, this thing is so whoring for comments. Whatever ( Read more... )

For the boys ( Read more... )

Woke before the sun, today, and had the best breakfast I've had since the days when Mama and Daddy used to cook a big breakfast for us before church on Sunday. (I can almost miss Sundays, but I don't miss that stuffy country church with the smell of the elderly and the hard pews and the ice cold baptisms.) I made myself good, diner-type breakfast ( Read more... )

This week I have been waking up with the sun. It's ridiculous, but also kind of pleasant. I mean, I get so much done before ten o'clock. For example, this morning I have already: had three cups of coffee, watched the last episode of Gilmore Girls which I predictably missed when it was on tv, read the recap by Pamie, learned what HoYay means ( ( Read more... )

Too many stimulants with too much liquor and I awake at seven am thinking now would be a good time to get a jump on that hangover by taking some pain medicine and having a glass of water. So I rise, assure a only partially awake Cagatay that I am ok, and slip into the kitchen, trying to swallow aspirin as quietly as possible. When I lie back down ( Read more... )

I want a Gunne Sax prairie dress and a sun-soaked gold-and-green spring afternoon and a sturdy chipped white bowl full of strawberries and heavy cream and sugar on top ( Read more... )