today howard dean is going to hang out at the two places in durham where i've sang karaoke: ned devine's and satsifactions (david allen coe and paula abdul, respsectively). the guy i urged my roommates on charlotte st. to cast their votes for in the democratic primary of 2003, the guy whose giddy, desperate roar will remain my fondest symbol of ( Read more... )

There was a book I read when I was a kid called Morgan Morning. It was one of the Serendipity books, books with unicorns and forest creatures as main characters, profound life lessons embedded within. That book broke my heart at a young age. It was the story of a young unicorn whose curiousity led her down the edge of a steep hill, where she ( Read more... )

today i called the family who put elvis up for adoption. a man named mark called me back, expressing his and his wife's relief at hearing of elvis' whereabouts. i wish i wish i wish i had a tape recorder to capture our phone conversation. he told me so much i would have never known ( Read more... )

well, maryland, there's some charm in you yet! thank you, thank you so so much for sticking it to walmart with your new bill to require companies with over 10,000 employees to spend at least 8% of their payroll on health insurance. it's about damn time someone held that company responsible, and you must have fought pretty damn hard to overturn a ( Read more... )

i just found out that durham has a city-sponsored dodgeball league. between the dodgeball and the bull city slam team, the cheap salsa lessons and the perfect dog trails around duke east campus, i'm feeling super-impressed with my city this week. despite the drugs and the violence and the generational poverty that plagues my neighborhood, there ( Read more... )

There is a thrill to stepping out a strange front door and into a familiar cool breeze, the entirety of a day stretched before you like exotic vendors selling sweet fruit drinks on cobblestone paths that lead to water, always more water. Today, the deliverance of a spring air, and the sweet laughter of a sidewalk courtship.

it matters whether to wear a mask or not ( Read more... )

i'm still not ready to start writing about my interactions on the north side of the state line. every word i'd want to say about any shared laugh, smile or stupid meltdown, or the bits of beauty in a joke or an embrace, would be fraught with too much meaning. i won't let myself near introspection in the form of thoughtful prose. there will be no ( Read more... )

Everything gets cozy now. I fold my clothes and sweep my floors. Elvis chews his bone beside my feet. The Mexicans lean against their trucks in the dwindling sunlight, their alligator skin boots polished for dancing. Some friends knock on the door, call "hello!" through the mail slot. They come bearing silvery gifts and long-winded stories. ( Read more... )

So I promised my neighbor Jose (or Carlos, or Martin, depending on who asks) that I'd go with him to court up in rural Caldwell County, NC. There are no Mexicans in Caldwell County. There are no spanish interpreters in Caldwell courts. But there we were, Jose and Adrian (or Antonio, or Jose, depending on who asks) and I, piling into my car in ( Read more... )