Forehead Kisses.

  “The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead.” – Marilyn Monroe   Because my random ass is random, we’re going to discuss “forehead kisses” for a minute.  Well, I’ll discuss.  You’ll read.  This is, after all, MY blog. So girlfriend of mine, mid-storytelling, says, “And I don’t know … More Forehead Kisses.

Dear Sir…

I’m not even sure how to start this or where this is going to end up but I’m sure that once I let my mind wander with thoughts of you, words will spill uncontrollably onto this pad of paper, the way you spill uncontrollably….well, you know what I’m saying. It’s so cliché, but from that … More Dear Sir…

Big, Round Number.

It’s my birthday tomorrow.  And maybe it’s because I’m turning a “big, round number” but I’m reflecting.  I have a folder in my email titled “Things Worth Saving” and decided to peruse through it.  Wow.  I don’t want to call it a mistake but it’s got me all nostalgic and shit.  Emails I’ve sent and … More Big, Round Number.

I’d Forgotten …

I’d forgotten how intense our relationship had been. I was half-expecting to see him. So you could imagine the thud of my heartbeat against my chest when we locked eyes that evening, just a few days ago. Immediately my mind went into reminiscent mode… I remember the night we met.  Well, since we’d grown up.  … More I’d Forgotten …

Hug Your Children.

I just received a call from my youngest son’s school principal. Apparently, a 13-year old girl took a nude photo of herself and forwarded it to her crush who forwarded it to a friend who forwarded it to a friend who forwarded it to my son.  The principal wanted to let me know that police … More Hug Your Children.

Dear 2011…..

For those of you who know me in real life and know how loud and annoying I can be when I’m talking about something I’m feeling extra strongly about, picture that voice now. Dear 2011; You sucked some big, ugly ass.  Seriously.  I’m trying to go through all the months in order really slowly in … More Dear 2011…..

In Memory…Terry

So many thoughts. And I can’t find a single way to make sense of them all. You’d think I’d have this down pat, having lost so many loved ones to this fucking disease. Fuck cancer. Terry was 29. Was. I can’t believe I’m using his name in the past tense. There’s nothing I can say. … More In Memory…Terry