Day 1: Take Your Time

I’ve always felt that journaling is useless. If you can’t remember it, is it really worth remembering? What’s the point of writing down the minutiae of your little life? Write about politics. Write about art. Write poems with form, songs with meter changes, research papers. Don’t write about yourself. It’s so…self absorbed. It’s so…personal. Who…

Read More

Paris, je t’aime

For ten days and nine nights we have wandered Paris streets, smelling cheese, pastries, piss, sausages, flowers, falafel; hearing French babies giggle with glee while their mothers wiped cream from their faces; scanning menus; stopping for wine while waiting for the rain to pass; searching out chocolate, and art, and music; drinking in afternoons and…

Read More

The Thong

I was 28 years old when I bought my first thong.  Thongs aren’t made for fat girls, said my brain to me, said commercials to my brain, said porn to my ex lovers. Thongs are made to rest between smooth, firm ass cheeks that fit in the palm of a man’s hand. Thongs are not made…

Read More