fashist

I like clothes and style and all that. I’m not a magazine-reading, credit card-maxing label ho, don’t get me wrong. I try to use my sister Ann as my style beacon and role model — a girl who never spends anything but deep bargain/thrift prices, but always, always dresses well. Now look at this excellent…

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little guy

My dad’s baby shoes. I would like to go back in time and give him a little squeeze.

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night visitor

I purposely didn’t write about the fifth anniversary of my father’s passing yesterday. I couldn’t really think of what to say or how to say it. I think I am still getting over the various horrors that dropped in 2006, and sometimes can’t muster up the muster. But suddenly last night I’m inside a madcap…

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3 word-related thingies

The Spanish word for carrot is zanahoria. Zanahoria! Makes me chuckle every time I see it. Such an elaborate, exotic word for our humble little carrot. Zanahoria! Bedclothes! So much better than the word linens. The bed is wearing bedclothes. So fancy. I wonder if the bed pretends the flat sheet is a cape. I…

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prideful

It’s Ventura Pride weekend and I say hooray to that. I’ve been extra connected to the LGBT community this past year, both socially and through work, and that has enhanced my life in every single way. I have found a missing component for happiness here in the burg in which I live; my friends who…

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and i’ve been chasing it ever since

It’s the Fourth Friday Challenge for August. My friend Paul and I, both posting daily in 2011, decided to give each other a job once a month to keep things spicy. In his words, “we want to push ourselves to do something more interesting than we might otherwise.” I will put his challenge to me…

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another internet friendship made “real”

I had the utter delight of meeting Polly of the inimitable Pollyanna Cowgirl in July, then basking in her presence a second time in San Francisco. Lucky me! We’ve been internet buddies for ages, so the face-to-face was ABOUT TIME. I first cornered her at her booth at last month’s Renegade Craft Fair, where I…

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boombox in the courtyard

me in 1983 Amy Rigby nails my middle-aged, angst-ridden soul today. If you’re anywhere near her age or mine, something might resonate to you (buy her album here). Everything she says pretty much is me, except I did not pursue playing music in any way. Also, I fell in love the first time a little…

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can’t put it off any longer

I’m off to the Department of Motor Vehicles! Hooray! There’s a whole lot of paperwork for the two us to get done! After I try to sort out two separate snarled tangles of bureaucracy for two cars, then I get to take the new (to me) car to see how much I can pay the…

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road. tripping.

Since this summer is incapable of serving up good (nice long weekend in San Francisco) without immediately serving up bad (breaking down on the way home from the airport) I guess I should not be surprised that I’m drinking coffee, reading my airport magazines and waiting for the automotive prognosis of the Boyf’s car. I’m…

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