The Bloggy Blogface!

January 2015: First email of the new year came from Glimmer Train, listing their 2015 submission schedule. Notes from my mother and sister, the latter's birthday coming a few days after the new year (I didn't send her a card this time around.) Healthcare.gov reminders. An old friend from Louisiana saying hello, who apparently now lives in Australia. More emails from Glimmer Train. Happy birthday emails from my parents and sister. A starred PDF file of a magazine write-up I did for an off-Broadway show in 2013. I check out a poetry slam, my first since moving down here. Parents write to tell me New York City is getting snow. I begin to notice my laptop is dying a slow death. February: More Healthcare.gov reminders. A picture of myself I sent to myself. A Glimmer Train 2/28 deadline reminder. My skin develops a rash from what appears to be the new body wash I'm using. Some strange drama with my niece's family I don't fully understand, but seems unsurprising. Suffer...

   When I was nineteen, I used to send away perforated info request cards to all of the colleges I was interested in transferring to back then. I found these cards inside college guides stored away in a top secret location that definitely wasn't behind the safety curtain inside the campus theatre. Hundreds of these guides shrink-wrapped and stashed away because I guess admissions must have ordered way too many. The school was almost a direct pipeline to the bigger four-year state school system anyway, so for most these guides were pretty pointless. I managed to steal a pack of five guides and stashed them away in my car one morning between classes. My parents were not at home when I returned with the guides, which was probably a blessing of sorts in disguise. I began my research in earnest, flipping through page upon page of stunning campus images and corresponding business reply cards. I didn't have a set plan as to where I might send these cards out to, or if I would actu...

   The other night, I had big dreams I was going to take better control of my awful eating habits.This always begins with emails from my parents. What's interesting is that during their emails, they never mention food. It's a topic that simply never comes up. But, I know what's in their kitchen. I know it's full of packaged nonsense with preservatives and sodium and every possible loaf of bread imaginable, all of it mostly jammed into the refrigerator. My parent's fridge is one of great legend. Friends and lovers are always told amazing tales of the fridge's far-reaching depths of foodstuffs packed to the brim. Unfortunately, it is packed to the brim with utter nonsense. Foods they don't need and loads of dairy products that make my intestines rumble just thinking about it. The fruitless endeavor of trying to get them to change their diets goes in one ear and right out the other. And while I'm not about that packed fridge life, its existence alone reaff...

To the girl I went out for coffee with once, whose email keeps sending me spam now Hello there,    Long time no see! Well, I guess we're not really seeing each other, but you know what I mean. I do hope you remember me. Although I guess you really don't have to, if you don't care to. It has been awhile. It might be cool if you did remember me, though. If you'll recall, we went on a sort of mini-date one time. It was mini because all we did was meet up at a Starbucks for about an hour. I ordered a small black coffee, which you felt the need to comment on how weird that was. And that's okay! You ordered a light triple soy low fat chai gluten free vegan mocha amarettiofrappachiano or something along those lines. You were very well dressed, sporting a fun purple top and nice-fitting jeans for the occasion. It was a fun time! I really did enjoy hearing you talk about your own life for almost sixty straight minutes, topped off with the only query aimed toward me. ...

I am the anonymous person who keeps checking your LinkedIn profile Good Day!      I hope you don't mind my constant, weekly intrusion into your LinkedIn profile, but I just cannot seem to help myself. I do not know if we know each other, or how I even wound up here in the first place, yet here I am. I totally stumbled onto your page, haha! Remember that line? Anyway, let's talk about whatever our connection may be here. I take note of your extremely vague profession listed under your name there. Is it even a real profession? You list three things, one of which is "consulting." Not even sure what that means, but hey. Seems like you have a lot of stuff going on with your "profession" there. A jack of all trades! And this whole consumer goods field - does it entail something important? Again, I am not sure. Perhaps you are a jack of all trades in a variety of ambiguous fields. This sounds like a very keen skill set to have in today's eclectic marke...

Friday night at this tiny A-League ballpark and the five of us roll in like we own the place. Three of us have been there before, the others were park virgins. After some seasonals in lame team polos scan our tickets, we head straight to the Oskar Blues tent to pick up some tallboys. One of my friends knows the lady behind the counter and she slices the price from six-fifty to three for us. Score. This being Jesus Carolina, only one beer at a time per customer, please. Make our way up the stairs where there seems to be way too many damn ushers trying to help fans find their seats. We don't need no stupid usher help, we got this. General admission seating happens on the upper level in opposite corners of the ballpark. Upper level is relative, because it's maybe a step up from a walkway that cuts the sections in half. We don't see any five seats close together on the right field side at first, so we start along the walkway looking for other spots. We come to a large swath ...

Inspired through another blog, I decided to analyze someone's random Craigslist personals ad. This is an actual ad from "women seeking men." My commentary is in red. Yup, I'll Watch Football With You On Sundays =) - 29    Well how precious. Does this mandate I sit through Real Housewives of Whatever Shitty Location with you? I hope so. 'm enjoying the summer...but I always look forward to the fall! I've been "trained" to be a good football watcher - and I actually enjoy watching the Pats' games! Now, I may be doing my nails or something while it's on, but I promise not to ask you what a first down means =) A typo right off the bat. Delicious!  Once again another reference to the football. WE GET IT. And I love how "trained" is in quotes. What the hell does that even mean? I imagine her former fuck buddy strapping her to a metal folding chair, tying her up, clamping her eyes wide open and forcing her to watch hours upo...

   Seventy-seven years ago (or thereabouts) I fell off the wagon. Well, a wagon. Zipping down a neighborhood street with a steep descent, I tumbled out of my cherry red Radio Flyer and cut my arm pretty bad. Turns out that handle doesn't make for a good steering wheel. Nobody was around to see me tumble, although I guess my sister was, or may have been. I told her to give me a push at the top and that's exactly what she did, watching me speed down the embankment and around a sharp corner before I lost control. By the time I brushed myself off and lumbered my way back up the hill, dragging that damn faulty steering wheel handle, I could see she was nowhere to be found. My sister raced home before I took the spill, probably telling our mother what had happened. True to her stoic German form, mom was neither worried nor upset. As I'm whimpering and clutching my arm walking through the door, she utters the same phrase she always said whenever my sister or I would get hurt ...

Note to the fellow on the 3 train Dear Sir,   It's very possible you may not read this. Hell, not many people can anyway. However, from outside my window Ain't No Stopping Us Now is pumping through someone's speakers, and I am compelled to write. Because frankly - and I hope your name isn't Frank - I am concerned. And it looked like nothing was stopping you. It was a crisp summer morning, and I had just stepped onto the 3 train from a short venture to brave the entitled, somewhat arrogant crowds at an upper west side Fairway for some groceries. In my bag were the usual suspects - deli meat, bread, pita chips, and a 6-pack of $11 beer. The lunch of champions. I positioned myself on the platform to board one the cars with the fewest passengers, as I usually do. It's a tactic I am forever learning, and maybe even getting better at, especially during weekdays. As fate would have it, I ended up boarding the very car I met you . Well, let's be frank ...

   For starters, I am somewhat impressed you are all here at six in the early evening when it is still eighty-six degrees outside and sunny. I'm pretty sure the humidity is around 648% as well.That's some damn dedication.  As for me, I am here because I am fat. I mean, I probably am, according to WebMD, my mom, and Judgey McJudgerson over there. Whatever. I JUST LOVE PIZZA SO MUCH. And booze, really, but that's totally more of a coping mechanism. Anyway, I am only here because I need some cardio in my life. Lower that blood pressure or something, I guess. Maybe tack on an extra day or two of my life toward the end. I just feel compelled to do it at the hottest time of the day. I tried this too when I was living in Louisiana. Ninety-four degree afternoons with a gazillion-percent humidity and I'd be out there trying to burn calories on the track. Some good that did. So, I am here, and you are here. I am here to walk around your fields. Four of them to be precise, ea...

   Either Rachel Dolezal has a serious personality disorder, or her family is just so messed up she successfully (for awhile) distanced herself from them using one of the most extreme methods she could imagine. Those are really the only two possibilities here, other than being just plain batshit crazy in denial. I bring up Dolezal's misfortune because Father's Day is coming up. No, I am not Dolezal's father - although I wouldn't put it past her to try and take that stance. My father, however, is white - so I'm sure both he and I are out of the running for that circus and likely future Lifetime movie. For Mother's Day, along with a card I included a gift card to Dunkin' Donuts, where she buys way too many bags of coffee to stash away in case an apocalypse strikes. Because I do not want to be a jerk of a son, I am going to include a gift card for my father this Sunday as well. The problem is that it cannot be a Dunkin' Donuts card, as he does not d...

Fluff From a Pottery Barn Catalog    In villages throughout the Hungarian countryside, these antique wide-mouthed glass jars were once used for the oldest form of food preservation. Like glassware used in cafes, ours has a classic-paneled design highlighted by a uniquely faceted base. Traditional teardrop-shaped handles and a mirror finish make our Classic Flatware both a versatile and stylish choice. Crafted of dense, heavy earthenware, these generously-sized pieces are hand glazed and microwave- and dishwasher-safe.     Give your space instant freshness and artisanal warmth with our new collection of pillow covers. Vibrant songbirds drawn from 19 th -century ornithology books brighten our pillow covers. Our oversized print of an antique bird illustration has the marks and stains of age. This irresistibly soft popcorn-stitched bedding is perfect for cozy nights. If your favorite pajamas could be made into bedding, it would be this supremely comforta...

   On a seasonably warm Friday afternoon, a friend and I decided a new adventure should be in order. And because we both live life on the motherfucking edge , this adventure was going to involve grocery shopping. A brand new place! And not just new in location, but new as in new new. As in they just built that shit, man. This was going to be the greatest afternoon ever. This new place was a grocery chain new to town, located on the south side. Our interest - like many other folks, I'm sure - was peaked ultimately by the incessant advertising the store took announcing it was coming to the area. Hi X Town, we're coming. Hello, X Town, we're on our way. Hi X Town, we're almost there. Soon, X Town, very soon. Hey X Town did you hear? We're almost there. Welcome to us, X Town. Please come in. Enjoy us X Town. We're here. We're open. Hey X Town, we're open now. Did you hear? We are open for you, X Town. Please, come in and enjoy us. We are here for you! ...