Life Lesson Monday

(^ not an actual category but I couldn’t name this post because I’ve only had one venti coffee so far this morning)

This past weekend I was walking my boyfriend’s dog in the woods and I found a hawk feather so brown and majestic and thrilling I took a picture of it. Then I found another and another and soon I was holding like six hawk feathers, just waiting to find a hawk carcass and thinking my good omen was going to turn into a very bad omen. When that didn’t happen, I thought maybe I’d make a trinket out of the feathers as a symbol of bad ass birding to put in my room and remind me to kill things like mice with my good vision and sharp talons. Then I passed someone on the trail and he was all “I see you found some turkey feathers!” They lost their splendor so fast it was like I picked them out of a crafts bin at Michaels.

Life lesson: existence is arbitrary. What we assign weight and meaning to, probably has very little intrinsic weight and meaning, which is a little depressing but mostly fucking awesome. We are free agent creatives with ears and language and opposable thumbs.  We get to experience shit then make shit up. How incredible is that?

I didn’t take any turkey feathers home.

After World Peace, Mentos

I wish the spiders in my shower were fish

That I was attracted to you

Had a pocket made of skin

The plumbing to handle my shit

Imagine thinking eyelash extensions would help this situation

And everything lived until it didn’t want to and didn’t die loveless in a shopping plaza

I want to know if I want too much

How to keep goodness on my windowsill like a wasp

Self-actualizing emails

An inappropriate friendship with my therapist

Non sexual sleepovers

I want to live in the off season of obsession

Christmas three times a year

My milk teeth back

Maybe the only way to draw Mt. Beautiful is to start at the top with a pencil

I want a sushi grade body

A cheap but quality abortion

Permission not to need any

So what if I’m insatiable?

You think that wasp is gonna live forever?

Pro’s and Con’s of Dying on a Plane in 14 Hours

(I don’t mean that I think it’ll be a 14 hour long death, I mean that I’m boarding a flight in 14 hours and I’m scared as fook b/c flying is more unnatural than spray tans, e-mail, and walking on the moon all put together)

caption prayer: god plz dont kill me tonight, queen of carbs and apricot jam who likes writing private journal entries in public places. i will stop leaving my scabs places if you let me survive this flight, but in case that’s not possible:


  1. It’s kind of a posh way to go.
  2. I won’t have to handle the spider situation that’s taking over my box of journals
  3. Like, isn’t the world going up in flames anyway? Climate change, Trump, the most recent season of the Kardashians…
  4. If hell is real, I will run into the arms of my one eyed pug and learn how to bite like I mean it
  5. More people will probably read and/or like my book because if I am dead they will feel sorry for me. Thank you, pity, for escalating my posthumous career!
  6. Losing eight pounds likely won’t be so important anymore, but if they cremate me, I’ll def weigh less than I do now (score)
  7. My biggest fear in life is my mom dying (which I only realized when I typed this). I won’t need to fret about her funeral ’cause it’ll be my funeral, unless she kills herself at my funeral, but she wouldn’t steal my thunder like that
  8. Which reminds me, at my funeral: there will be flourless chocolate cake from Market Table, DMX playing Party Up In Here, and all guests will receive a party favor, which will be one of three of my favorite books: Crush by Richard Siken, Commonwealth by Ann Patchett, and um, um, Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
  9. Will someone be in charge of telling each of my exboyfriends I love them?
  10. I’ve never been a procrastinator, and since we’re all gonna bite it eventually, it’d suit my Type A personality to just do it now
  11. I have yet to take a nudie
  12. i.e., there’s no real dirt on me, so I can’t die a second death of embarrassment if ppl. go through my stuff
  13. (if you read my journals, my ghost will fuck you up)


  1. I’ll never eat those amazing croissants from Hungarian Pastry
  2. Or see my mom’s dog pick up a scent
  3. Or wade into the ocean by my parents’ house after a long run with my best friend
  4. And how will I poop my metaphorical pants when I encounter a line of sheer poetic genius?
  5. Like Yeats’ (and I’m paraphrasing): we are a soul fastened to a dying animal
  6. I would like to go to grad school
  7. And have a tiny bit more sex
  8. And maybe get my nipple pierced (the right one, which is slightly misshapen)
  9. This is embarrassing and entitled, but if I’m dead you should know, I always wanted to write an advice column and since I don’t see pulling that off in the next fourteen hours, good bye to that
  10.  I’m not done farting in movie theaters or leaving wet clothes in the sink. I have more eggs to scramble, 2-8 other books to write, and that doesn’t even include poetry
  11. I want to take my clothes off in a waterfall and see at least ten thousand more sunrises.
  12. I’m a greedy fuck. I need my kidneys and my heart.
  13. (Organ donor, duh).
  14. I haven’t made my bed yet.

how not to act

when you’re sad about a break up

  1. decide your ex boyfriend is dead b/c his phone is off which you know b/c you’ve been texting him all day (not delivered) and calling him all night (straight to voicemail) and he hasn’t answered your facebook message or your email or been active on gchat since….yesterday?……FUUUUUUUUUCK CALLING 9-1…
  2. but wait! what about skype?!
  3. so you try to login to skype but you can’t remember your info cause you haven’t skyped since the days of oovo, so you create a brand spanking new skype to finally track that little weasel down only to find out
  4. he is not dead. he called you by mistake 22 hours ago and he’s deliberately not reachable b/c
  6. well shit, I should buy a telescope
  7. no, telescopes are for viewing space, not surviving space
  8. question mark, question mark
  9. that’d be a funny pun if only his name was mark.
  10. actually none of this is funny.
  11. you know how to survive a break up? with a martini and a sundae.