LIKE ONE OF THOSE VICTORIAN BITCHES WITH A CONVERSION DISORDER Hi! Since we last talked, my body has been freaking out a little. My fingers have erupted into an itchy lizard skin of tiny blisters. Husband thinks the cats have been prowling through the nettles, and when I pet the
Mom emailed last night with an update to Dad’s possible UTI. Although he seems to be doing a little better from the antibiotics, his blood work came back ‘ominous’ with some red flags for liver and kidney damage, as well as dehydration and diabetes. He’s lost 30 pounds in less
Dad Update, with spoiler-adjacent talk regarding KILLING EVE, THE CRYING GAME, THE MUPPET SHOW, and THE WALKING DEAD. Also, lacking a satisfying summation. You’ve been warned. I called my mother last Friday, primarily to encourage her to watch KILLING EVE, so we could have something fun to talk about. She’s
Happy new year, everybody! All good thoughts and wishes your way. It’s always difficult to get back into the place of confession, but here, as in a polar dip, I suppose the best way to go is shrieking, half naked, and in front of a bunch of people. About a
Taking a sharp left turn from my previous style (thinking-thinking-OMG-overthinking-crying-crying-catastrophizing) of dealing with my family situation, I opted this vacation to simply block everything out. Instead, I threw myself head-first into the legality of buying pot in California, going so far as to phone a couple dispensaries with questions. (I