Cropped Out
April, 2005 Yawn. Loud slurp of coffee. I shuffle to the living room, flop down on the couch. For twenty minutes, I stare at a wall. Then I pad over to my computer to check my email. There it is: the...
View ArticleMeeting New Year’s With Resolve
At 9:20 this morning, I considered making a New Year’s resolution. At 9:21, my diaphragm quivered. A sheen of sweat broke out over my upper lip. At 9:22, I vomited a little into the back of my mouth....
View ArticleExposure
This is the first urban apartment-building in which I’ve lived. It’s large – imposing, even – and is set on the corner of a major thoroughfare. My apartment is at the far end of the sixth, and highest,...
View ArticleThey Scare Me
They move freely among us with comfort and with ease, and we barely give them a thought. Or perhaps we’re just too afraid. Because on some level, we all register their potential to inflict anguish. To...
View ArticleThe Password
“I’m sorry,” my friend tells me. ”That’s the one thing about this computer. It asks for a password that I don’t remember.” She sighs. ”Okay. First try the basics. Welcome, user, admin. Stuff like that....
View ArticleThe Red Shoes
Firehouse red, they are. Or, as known to others, ”fuck-me” red. They’re shiny, too, but too cute to be called slutty. Having modest heels (my podiatrist would actually approve) and dainty red bows on...
View ArticleThe Wedding Guest
Diane and I met and became friends in our junior year of college. She was a psychology major: caring, sensitive, compassionate. Better, she was funny and liked to smoke pot. The perfect companion....
View ArticleI Wouldn’t Kick Obama Out of Bed
Admittedly, President Obama will probably never grace my bed. There are too many impediments: wars, our clashing schedules, concern for public opinion. But if he did, I’d sure as hell let him stay. I...
View ArticleMy Father’s Daughter, The Pope
February 28th is my father’s birthday. It’s also the day the Pope will step down. Gift-wise, this does not work to my advantage. A blender, weed-whacker or soy candle will no longer suffice. Because...
View ArticleThe Parking Chronicles VI
I’ve been contending with a wretched parking situation for almost ten years. (Low rent, nice apartment. The golden handcuffs.) Ten years of. . . No! I refuse to re-regale you with the details. Suffice...
View ArticleMy New Phone
I upgraded to a smart phone last week. Now I have a phone that’s 2,800 times smarter than I am. You know what disturbs me about this? The fact that I don’t care. It doesn’t bother me that my phone...
View ArticleThe Facebook Debacle
I’m turning the key in the ignition, ready to leave for work. My new smartphone alerts me to a message. I pick it up and look. “The piece is good,” my uncle has posted on my Facebook page. “But. . .”...
View ArticleThe Mystery Of The Blue Ass
I’m loathe to admit it, but the heat in my office occasionally gives rise to a generously proportioned zit on my ass. It’s usually nestled between the cheeks, hidden from view unless one goes looking....
View ArticleA Dip On The Sabbath
“I’m sorry, dear,” the hotel manager tells me when I go to buy my beach pass. “The beach is closed until 1:00 today.” It’s 7:30 a.m., day three of my four-day vacation at the Jersey shore. I’ve just...
View ArticleBlog Rebellion
So. This is the part where I try to let go and be freer in my blog, because people are making me suggesting it. It’s the part where I acknowledge that I’m excessively enamored with semi-colons, spot-on...
View ArticleIndependence Day: Set Me Free From. . .
I’d like to be free of the apostrophe that renders my name ”June O&!#%*Hara.” I’d like to be free of the need to eat after I’ve brushed and flossed for the night. Free of my lust for White Castle...
View ArticleInsomnia: An Email To My Guy Friend
Hey Brad, It’s the middle of the night and I’m wide awake. I should go clean out the fridge or twist myself into some yoga poses, but I’m emailing you instead. How goes the search for Vivian’s birthday...
View ArticleYour Therapist’s Secrets
Did you ever wonder what your therapist is thinking? A therapist myself, I’ll disclose some things she probably won’t tell you: There are weeks you have it more together than she does. She sometimes...
View ArticleThe Heat Wave: Epiphanies and Confessions
It’s been sweltering hot the last few days. I A) have no air conditioning except in my bedroom — a room so chaotic, it’s hard to find the bed; B) am pathologically attached to my living room; C) am on...
View ArticleMy Beau, The King of Quirks
My boyfriend and I are two peas in a very strange pod. Jake, my boyfriend’s name is. He’s an editor; we’ve been in a relationship for almost five years. He’s more mature than I am, but no less quirky....
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