How can we talk?

How can I possibly talk to you You who twitches to tell me what to feel what to know what to believe You who judges character and truth on a book a book written many years ago by many different men edited my many other men but it is the Word of that who created…

The Dangers of “The Truth”

As I am reading and pondering the yoga sutras, as given verbally by Patanjali (for yoga, he is like the Jesus of Christianity or the Mohammad of Islam), and explained by Satchidananda, I am struck once again at the consistency of certain teachings regardless of religion. While I only have a general base of understanding…

Listen or (almost) Die

I was cocky. That’s all there is to it. Maybe it was sprinkled with a dab of impatience, a touch of bravery, but in the end, it was definitely layered and filled to the brim with audacity. The trip started off normal enough. My husband Dave, his insane friend Greg, and myself decided to go…

That Night – Part 1

Peeking in through dark drapes and a foreign room, the sun illuminated the small space full of old relics: trophies for rowing and baseball, one of those odd glass balls with bubbles suspended within the the sphere that was placed on a plastic base, a water bed with sheets that kept coming up around the…

Reintroduction to TV

This past week, my husband and I took a mini-vacation and stayed in a small cabin for a few nights in lieu of going to a big family Thanksgiving. Needless to say, it was a really good decision. Not because we don’t love our families, also not because we don’t love our friends who were…

Cute-Meet #2

I was ready. So freaking ready. After days and days (roughly three) of consideration, I had finally decided to go for it. To do the impossible. Something I had never considered before now… getting a bike from an actual bike shop. It had never occurred to me before this weekend. All of my past bikes…

I Didn’t Want It to Be This Way

“I didn’t want it to be this way” she said, as she sat there, boring into him with eyes watery, either from actual tears or the drug induced stupor she seemed to still be in. He hesitated. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of an answer. He wanted her to suffer. To suffer…

Happy Birthday, R.I.P.

I clicked on it. I saw it, and I clicked on it, and now I’m sorry. Facebook says it’s Philip’s birthday. I remember walking down the boardwalk smell of bocarones wafting up the sidewalk from the outside “grills” people laughing you laughing, making some weird German joke. I never understood your jokes. But then again,…

The Mountain

I wiped the crusty sleep bits out of my eyes, having once again forgotten to take my contacts out before going to sleep. I laid in bed for a second, thinking about our conversation last night. I had just gotten his letter in the mail. I kid you not, he tried to write me a sexy poem……

Attack

I go to Krav Maga. Haven’t heard of it? Neither has most anyone I tell, but I persevere in explaining what it is partially because I think it is kind of bad ass (no other part of me is bad ass; this is it; I need to claim this). It sounds a little foreign because it…

Memories of Snow

I shivered. The tiny house was cold. So. Very. Cold. Like wool-long-underwear-wool-socks-wool-beanie-shirt-and-fleece-topped-with-snuggly-blanket-but-still-freezing cold. I should make that a hashtag. Obviously I don’t understand hashtags. As I sat on our couch, my husband, Dave, sat next to me, arm resting across my hunched back as he sprawled out, relishing the frigid air that seeped in from…