Archive | August, 2011

Don’t Make Fun of Us

25 Aug

Hey, it’s not like we’re used to the ground rumbling beneath us, around us. I mean, we don’t live in California or on the west coast or anything.  We’re here. In D.C. Where snipers terrorize the entire metropolitan area for weeks. Where the President signs important documents with cameras rolling. Where four seasons really means four seasons. Where severely historical buildings draw thousands of people per year to gaze at and take pictures of.  Where mountains stand still and actually don’t move or bubble over or talk.

We’re easter coasters.

We simply don’t do earthquakes.

So don’t make fun of us, Californians.


6 Aug

I recently had a birthday.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

It’s testy getting older for lack of a stronger word.

Seeing a gray hair pop up in your head and wondering, What IS that?

Then fetching tweezers to get it OUT NOW. Staring at it and wondering precisely what made it grow from your scalp. Should I eat more broccoli? How many antioxidants am I consuming? Am I too stressed out?

Worrying about sagging boobs and varicose veins and how much fiber one should consume and lost years and deferred dreams and–

Midlife is stressful.

So I’ve decided that I’m 12 years old.

I can be found at the candy store negotiating Lemonheads prices.

My bike will be parked out front leaning on its kickstand.