Y’all. My heart skipped a beat today. In line at Kohls. And listen when I tell you. It skipped a whole flippin’ beat. And took me completely off guard. Handsome does not begin to describe what I encountered. Or really. Doesn’t even matter. He was in line with his mother. I think. Talking about his shopping woes at Walmart. How he’s disappointed in the produce. Y’all. He shops for produce. He eats produce. Wants good produce. And shops with his mother. Continue reading “Not Now”
Tag: Love
Forty
I’ll be 40 in four months. And currently. At 39. I live with my mom. I have a home. A beautiful one. One with a mortgage. An electric bill. A water bill. And I still pay them. On time. In it are all my favorite things. My old fans. And vintage cameras. Rusty things. National Geographics. And my bed. My seven-year old daughter is here with me, too. We sleep in a full size bed together. Even though there is a queen down the hall. And a king at our own home. I like being close to her at night. Her body is so warm. And we hold hands while she falls asleep. Sometimes she even wakes me in the wee hours. Asking for my hand. And I love it. I’m almost 40. My daughter and I live with my mom. And to be brutally honest. I don’t want to leave. Continue reading “Forty”
The Pinch
This whole thing about the girl who listens. That girl. The one whom this blog was based. The one who currently has her mouth banded shut. For 22 hours a day. That girl. She’s a fraud. A fake. A lie. Because in the words of her mama, “she has not shut her flapping mouth.” Not since she was in the recovery room. Not since she was rolled into her hospital room. Not since she was wired for five days. Not once. And you know what. That girl is me. Continue reading ” The Pinch”
The Last Tagalong
I am wildly enamored by hot water and Epsom salts. And I am not ashamed of it. In fact, this combination may be my greatest love. If we’re not talking about children. Or liquids. Wait, that is a liquid. I mean drinkable liquids. And if we are talking drinkable liquids then sparkling water is my greatest love. Followed very closely by iced coffee and IPAs. Any IPA. And margaritas. Good ones. Holy mother of Jesus. I just realized I am totally obsessed with liquids. Both potable and float-able. But the bath. Mmmm. That’s where it’s at. Undeniably perfect.
Dragging Dogs
Today was a good day. I failed my state certification exam. Again. By one point. Again. There’s irony behind it. This is a written test. Like a sit down, look at a prompt, draft an outline, and write kind of assessment. Written. Y’all! I once won a state poetry contest. So what if it was in 1994. I even beat out my older sister who is a much better writer than I will ever be. I studied creative writing at Florida State University. I’ve written a 123-page thesis on homelessness. Homelessness. I’ve been a high school English teacher for 10 years. I do this every day. I write. Hell, I do this in my free time. I write. And yet, I can’t seem to pass this written test. But like I said, it was a good day. I failed the exam.
The Girl Who Listens 