Introducing Insane Levels of I-Don’t-Give-a-Fuck

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Something occurred to me this week. I think it’s the thing I’ve been inching toward with this blog for a couple of years now, but I haven’t fully grasped it til now. Not for lack of trying. Every time I sit down to write, I strain for the courage to face the truth. I’ve inched up on it. I’ve sidled around it. Pressed up against reality and looked at it slant-eyed, hoping not to see what I’ve known all along was there. But I can’t avoid it any longer. And I don’t want to.

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How to Feel Carefree (while Drooling)

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Can you remember the last time you were completely free of worry and care? Before Covid? Before you had kids? Before you bought your first house? Before high school? Even longer ago than that?

I remember being six or seven, doing handstands in a neighbor’s yard on an early Saturday morning, and having nothing in the world on my mind except trying to stay upside down for as long as possible and waiting for my friends to wake up so they could come out and play. I miss that feeling — the belief, so ingrained that you’re not even consciously aware of it, that everything is just the way it’s supposed to be and that it’s a grand old world. Until a few days ago, that’s what I thought feeling carefree meant: absolutely no worries and all was right with the world.

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Missing: One Middleaged Woman

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Did you ever look in a mirror and not recognize yourself? Once, when I was in my early twenties, I looked at my reflection and thought, “Holy shit! I’m a grown-up. I’m a woman.” How on earth had that happened? It caused such a jolt that I still remember it nearly thirty years later.

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Hey, Guys? You’re Doing a Great Job.

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I’m sitting in the family room, my head against the back of the couch, my legs stretched out under the coffee table, staring at the ceiling. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. My golden doodle, Huckleberry, barks, bringing me out of my trance. Continue reading →

Oops, I Scared the S*** Out of Him

I don’t think I’m a cold or callous person, but I have to admit that sometimes, I feel less alone when I hear about the big fat mess that exists in other people’s lives (and minds). I don’t want anyone to suffer, but it’s a part of life, and it’s sometimes helpful to be reminded of it.

In case you’re like that, I thought I’d share the story of my really shitty day yesterday. Feel free to be all smug and think to yourself, “Well, at least I’m not that bad!”

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A Month of Astonishing Creativity – Here’s Why (Maybe)

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So I did this crazy thing. I wrote a book. It took me a month.

No, seriously. One day I was heading to the mountains to go snowboarding with my son; he was sleeping, and I didn’t want to play the radio. I had the kernel of an idea for a book tickling my brain, so what I did with the silence in the car was to begin writing it in my head. I wrote three chapters on the drive to the mountains; on the way home, I told it to myself, as though it was a story I had once heard. When I sat down to write it out the next day, the whole thing was still there, complete.

And the story kept pouring out of me, every day for a month. I told my friend De Anna that the writing was so easy that it couldn’t possibly be any good, but she said I was Continue reading →

Top 7 MAW Posts of the Last 5 Years – And the Winner Is…

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As an exercise in I don’t know what (halting boredom in its tracks, maybe), I spent some time this morning looking back on my blogging career to see what I could see. And what I learned was: Continue reading →

Resolution: Find 300 Dead Babies

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As written in the headline, my resolution for the coming year is to find… wait. Dammit! I did it again.

The babies aren’t dead. To be clear, they’re not exactly alive, either, and never were. But they’re certainly not dead. They’re just naked. I don’t know why I always refer to them as dead babies rather than naked babies. Continue reading →