Dolly Parton warbles sentimental carols. Triggers Yuletide parental invitation. Grandma is in her grave. Holiday hosting? The torch must be passed. So it is. Christmas Eve, we dine en famille…
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A velvet patterned Thanksgiving dress drops over my bulletproof vest. Sports bra over black mesh restricts buckle bulges. The vest’s bulky belt further puffs flaring skirt. Meant to hold guns,…
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October 1, 2018 is my forty-second birthday. A party seems unlikely. All I have to celebrate is still being alive. I never expected to make it this far. With my…
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My domestic partner died in surprise suicide. Some things you never get over. I have this complex that it would be wrong to totally get over her. Play the merry…
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Late one hot August night. Nude on speakerphone. With a far off grad school friend. From ten years ago. My teenage kitten affixes his sharp teeth to my nipple. He…
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In a cherry harvest month of unabashed hedonism, I make and eat two cherry pies by myself. Dive in with a dessert fork. Not even bothering to cut them into…
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How to perform food writing without talking about Anthony Bourdain? As a food writer I must pay homage to the master. On June 8, 2018, Bourdain hung himself in a…
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I’m eager to make dinner’s frozen Macaroni and Cheese. I hope it will be like the succulent Mac and Cheese I used to devour at Fred 62. In Los Angeles.…
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I am celibate now. I find my sexual energy comes out in prose and paint more powerfully then when dissipated in actual sex. I have no romantic designs on anyone…
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A snow covered week in mid March. My entire extended family descends upon Reno for grandma Virginia’s funeral and her great-grandchild’s fourth birthday. We assemble to grieve together. To clean…
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I wake up to four missed calls from my father. Frantic texts from my out of the country mother. My last living grandmother died. Peacefully in her sleep. At her…
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My car breaks down. I don’t get it fixed. I stop driving. My world becomes my House of the Rising Sun. I retreat inward to a private inner sanctum. As…