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This post is sponsored by the American Cancer Society. I was in the ninth grade. It was early spring, a few weeks before Easter. My mom offered to take me out for lunch, and I, in my infinite gastronomical taste and sense of occasion, chose Taco Bell. We sat at a tiny table by the window. I remember I talked a lot. I don’t remember what I talked about, but afterward, when we got back into the car, my mom drove out of the parking lot…and then parked the car a few yards away, in a different fast food parking lot. That’s when we had the conversation I realized my mom had probably intended to have at the restaurant. “Your dad has cancer.” *** He had cancer of the larynx, to be exact. The voice box. He’d quit smoking when I was a tiny little asthmatic thing, but the long years of cigarettes and daily high school English lectures had taken a terrible toll. He underwent radiation. I have a weird memory of going with him to a radiation treatment that I think I may have made up. I started writing short stories and essays in earnest around this time.... Read more →

Here, I'll start. I call this one OH CRAP: And this one is TURTLE STUCK UNDER THE COUCH WHEN IT ALL COMES TO NAUGHT: And this one is JELUSY: Now your turn. Be warned, these may be the cutest pictures I have ever posted, if you're a fan of the messy-baby-eating-spaghetti genre of photography. If you're not, then...I have nothing for you today, move along. For everybody's sake, I will hide the cuteness-slash-unbearable-cliche under one of those "jump" things all the kids today seem to be so into: Heh. Double chin heh. INVISIBLE BEFORE PANTS. I CAN HAZ MEATBALL? I CAN HAZ NEW INTERNET MEME? I MEAN, GOD. FOR REAL. WHAT'S NEXT, ALL YOUR NOODLE ARE BELONG TO US? TYPE NOM NOM AND YOU'RE FINISHED, WOMAN. (Thanks for all the input on the kitchen. I have every intention of thinking about maybe going to the paint store sometime in the very near future. Right now a grey-green is our front-runner, along with black door pulls and realigning all the kitchen cabinets to accomodate the sub-zero refrigerator I ordered to fit my platters, because when I have dinner parties I always have platters, and while we're at it we might flip... Read more →

Never let it be said that the Internet doesn't take a request for advice seriously. Serious Internet iz serious! Serious Internet iz in ur kitchen, comparing ur paint chipz! In fact, since you guys took the assignment so seriously, I must apologize for setting y'all up for COLOR FAIL with just that little picture of a little corner. I think the lack of full room perspective is why red ended up being such a popular suggestion. Let's...back up from that angle a little bit. See, I just can't get behind the idea of painting THAT MUCH wall red. Or any of it red, honestly, what with that wide expanse of reddish floor. As someone mentioned yesterday, I think it might feel like we "slaughtered a steer in a bordello." We actually painted part of our bedroom dark red in our old DC condo -- way back in 2001, like a couple of paint-trend VISIONARIES -- and at first we loved it. How bold! How deep and lovely and different! And then six months later...hmm. Yeah. It looks kinda like a whorehouse up in here. Also, small. Very, very small. We moved our bedroom to the (yellow!) upstairs loft and eventually... Read more →

Okay, so a lot of you demanded to see photos of the headband. A lot of you do not have much goin' on for you, these days, I'm guessin'. Anyway, I wasn't intentionally holding out on you, I't been washing my hair much this week, in order to test out some new dry shampoo and various oily-scalp things for the Advice Smackdown. Results have been...mixed. Helmet-head-ish, with a side of Ye Olde Timey Powdered Wig. You know, REALLY PRETTY. Really ready for a close-up self-portrait to be published across the land. I bought it at H&M after watching entirely too much Top Chef, because that one girl always wore double headbands like this one, only not really like this one at all, as you can see close up: Even the girl on Top Chef had re-thought the headbands by the reunion show. I should have learned a similar lesson, including the fact that this fucker HURTS MY HEAD. Anyway. The glittery headband is just all around Bad Idea Jeans, I realize that now. Moving on! It is now time to talk about how ugly my kitchen is. See, when we moved into this house, we were completely thrilled with... Read more →

It's been quite some time since we checked in on the Isle of Sodor, hasn't it? November 2007, if my archives are to be believed, which...I feel like they are lying. 2007? Really? No one is going to remember an entry from 2007 and all this time I still thought of the train table entries as a "regular feature" that I could fall back on whenever I'm feeling lazy and non-word-ish. But two entries in two years is not a regular feature. Also I was going to blame the lack of train table entries on the dog, who peed on the basement carpet so we couldn't really spend a lot of time down there until we got the carpet cleaned, which we just did this week so that can't be true. Can it? Crap, I feel like I just lost a year and a half and I don't where it went. If only I'd kept some kind of written record of my life! With photos and timestamps! DAMMIT! Anyway. Speaking of the train trable, things had taken a turn for the full-on disasterous. Goddamn bridge(s) to nowhere! Ye Olde Genetics Plant continues to fuck with nature. Many residents were in... Read more →

Yeah, so. Shut up. We saw Rent AGAIN on Friday night. Again-again. Those tickets have been on my (non-working, asshole) refrigerator since CHRISTMAS, and I was excited. I got dressed up, complete with cleavage and a sparkly headband that I later decided looked more like a tiara. This was not a decision I was proud of. There was regret about the headband, is what I am saying. And as anyone who has experienced headband-related regret knows, you cannot just undo a headband once you've committed to a headband, because of the hair dent. Dent rhymes with Rent! You know, sometimes I start writing stuff without any idea of where the topic is going to take me, without any real grasp on the entry's structure or conclusion, and sometimes it just works out anyway. Other *** We took the boys to see Up on Saturday. I was a little worried about it, honestly, since I'd read some reviews that mentioned scary packs of dogs and we're STILL kind of dealing with the fallout from 101 Dalmations, which shattered Noah's innocence with the necessary truth that sometimes dogs bite, and that sometimes they bite your butt. Thank you, Disney, for that.... Read more →