Stationary Unicycle

I have the reflexes of a ninja when I need them. For a person of my size and lack of coordination, it's amazing how quickly I can move when I'm not thinking about it. I'm able to catch a falling plate before it hits the floor, to right a bottle that's been tipped before the contents have had a chance to spill, why, even just this moment, the alarm on my phone went off and before my Thinking Brain even consciously registered the meaning of the sound, my left hand, my LEFT Hand mind you, (I am perniciously right handed) flew into action, slapped down upon the phone at bionic woman speed, and defused that blasted thing before it had a chance to ring again. It was truly an amazing feat of dexterity, skill, and startling fury. My conscious brain is still reeling, quite frankly. I had an inkling that the sound of the alarm  elicited within me some amount of irritation, but the magnitude of focused rage, to trigger such a display? I had no idea. It went down like this: T...

Last night I was feeling sort of punk, and by punk I don't mean green mohawk safety pin in the ear black leather jackets and doc martens sex pistols god save the queen punk. By punk I don't mean Jets vs Sharks rumble punk,  pushing old ladies in the park snatching purses slicked hair and switchblades punk. And I certainly don't want you to think that by punk I mean pork pie hat, stealing apples from the fruit cart, tacks on teacher's chair dipping Sally Sue's braids in the inkwell punk. The punk I'm speaking of is mopey self pity punk, out of sorts and down and dejected punk, eat a plate of nachos and a couple of granola bars punk, going to bed before you finished everything you intended to do self indulgent mewling pathetic whiny-ass, gee I'm such a failure what am I fucking doing with my life, just throw in the towel ya big blubbery blubbering butt-face loser punk, take yourself to bed because you make yourself ill punk full of self loathing nothing but ...

I was up at 4 a.m. My daughter was frustrated the night before. She'd procrastinated doing her English homework and eventually 11 p.m. happened, and then self reproach, guilt and extreme fatigue and she set her alarm for 4 a.m. so she could get the work done before school. I offered to get up with her in order to lend her moral support, also to make tea and toast and keep her on task, otherwise the heroic effort of waking before dawn would have been a wasted one. So, I was up at 4 a.m. Bleary because I hadn't gone to bed until 1 because I procrastinate even more than my daughter and going to bed was my Sophomore Honors English homework. I fed the cats and the dog, gave the dog his medicine, let the dog out. I unloaded the dishwasher and then loaded the previous night's dishes (again, procrastination, why didn't I do the dinner dishes last night and spare myself the depressing sight; last night's congealed ketchup and milk rings in the glasses). I brewed myse...

possible blog posts for blogtober: 15 things you don't know about my left nut: 1. I don't have a left nut 2.  I do not even have a right nut As I can only get to #2, this idea needs fleshing out before I commit to it. Hahaha...fleshing out.  some things you don't know about my cat 1. I have a cat 2. she's a cat  3. she does cat things 4. she shits in a box   15 things I want to change about myself 1. fuck this shit 2. seriously 3. back off 4. you do not want to go down this path 5. really One billion (maybe this is too ambitious) observations made while sitting on the toilet  1. someone should really mop the floor  2. I need to get some new reading material in here,   3. I think the new Oprah magazine was in yesterday's mail  4. there are only so many times you can read about living your best life while sitting on the shitter  5. reading recipes while using the bathroom is sort of we...

I placed my desk is in front of the window. This seemed like a good place to put a desk during the long summer days when I first set about making this closet my office. I had a view of my neighbor's garden, their apple tree, their lilacs. But as autumn supplants summer, autumn afternoons bleed into early evening pretty fucking early and the world becomes dark all around. The window becomes less a window and more a mirror. The effect is decidedly less pastoral. I'm sitting here facing my reflection which seems idiotically symbolic. My eyes and nose are obstructed by the plastic window casement, so all I can see is the top of my head in the top window pane, the locking mechanism on the window the window casement, my double chin, my grey sweater-ed sloppy sloping shoulders, my grey sweatered sausagey arms, my grey sweatered matronly bosom, and then, thank god, the top of the desk under which the rest of my overstuffed pillow-y form is hidden. I'm planning on moving my office...

I've decided to post every day again for a while. I just don't have the discipline to write stuff if I don't have some deadline looming. It's too easy to procrastinate. I'm good at easy things like procrastination, also, napping.  Napping is easy. I'm good at napping. I've been reading some haiku. Jack Kerouac wrote some fucking awesome haiku. They sort of blow my head open. In a good way. Like a gust of wind blowing a curtain. It's good. Airing out the brain. Blowing the brain curtains around. I imagine my brain curtains are lace. I like lace curtains. I like the way they blow around in the spring or fall when the windows are open on a blue day. Spring blue and Autumn blue are both blue but they're not the same. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. I'm thinking of authenticity and voice. Have you thought about authenticity and voice? Your voice, is it really your own? Do you realize that y...