January 29, 2023
Mostly because the outpouring of support from friends and family after my last post was overwhelming and lovely, so I want to be sure y’all know that I’m doing better. (And give you all credit, because all of your support has helped me in so many ways.)
October 15, 2022
A few weeks ago we watched NASA crash a spacecraft into a small asteroid named Dimorphos that is orbiting a larger asteroid. The best part was that it was on purpose. The project, appropriately named Double Asteroid Redirection Test or DART, is an attempt to secure knowledge and data should a “killer” asteroid ever be headed straight toward Earth. The idea is to change the trajectory of an asteroid, but to not hurt it in any way except for maybe leaving a weensy crater where the projectile—in this case a vending-maching sized craft—crashes. Sorry for the scar, Dimorphos.
August 20, 2022
My husband and I are competitive with each other, to say the least. We trash talk and we swagger when we win. I won’t play him in pool, ping pong, or pickleball, mainly because he has perfected the art of “putting a little English on it” and I have yet to crack the code on how to defend against that. He refuses to play Wii Fencing with me, intimidated by my “shock and awe” tactics which consist entirely of becoming the Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes cartoon lore. We’ve raced cars, go-carts, and remote-control vehicles. He out-runs me and I out-yoga him. He usually beats me on the mini-golf greens, but I’ve improved my game in the past few years and have won a few times. (Turns out that when I’ve had a few glasses before and during putt-putt, I stop caring, relax, and turn into Tiger Freakin’ Woods. Ironic, no?) Competition is an ongoing thing in our house. Our child has been drawn in, competing regularly with her father in rock-paper-scissors with the defeated having to hear “You went down in a blaze of glory” upon their loss. Because RPS, as we all know, is absolutely filled with glory.
February 4, 2022
The forecast was looking super nasty on Tuesday and we thought there was a decent chance we’d be snowed in Wednesday and Thursday, and possibly even Friday. Still at work, I realized that although we had plenty of food from my shopping trip the weekend before (my type-A meal planning routine was paying off), we didn’t have enough bread for sandwiches. This might be a problem since now all three of us were going to be lunching at home. Zoe and I had also attacked the bagels pretty hard and our sleeve of six was already down to two. Okay, bread and bagels. The bread might be a little hard to come by on a last-minute trip to the grocery store with a snow storm looming, but I was confident I could score some bagels. I drove straight from work to the grocery store, along with the rest of St. Louis.
January 25, 2022
My home state is in the national news again, because of yet more spectacularly poor decision-making by the most closed-minded members of its citizenry.
January 9, 2022
“If he can’t learn how to close the motherfracking door softly, I’m going to murder him while he sleeps.”
January 1, 2022
Happy New Year, friends! Kicking off 2022 with lots of good intentions for this next trip around the sun. My morning meditation told me I have to be open to new possibilities and to new people but my default position is to sit on my couch and not move so we’ll see how that goes. I did step way out of my comfort zone and sign up for a spring writers retreat in Cabo where I’ll stay in a teepee. Granted, it’s billed as a “luxury teepee” and comes with a king-size bed and a bathroom, so it’s closer to a conical hotel room than an actual teepee. It looks like a teepee on the outside, though, so let’s just stick with that.
December 1, 2021
When M and I were first married, the ink not yet dry on our marriage certificate, he began to act strangely. Instead of coming home each night after work, he went to his grandmother’s. “I am making her a plant stand,” he said. “She wants me to make her a plant stand.” Okay, fine, but when it was taking days, then weeks, I had my doubts. I had seen Grandma’s plant stands. A plant stand was a slab of Formica with a kitchen cabinet handle affixed to each end and casters mounted to the bottom. This allowed her to place tall plants in giant pots wherever she wanted in her house. She already had quite a few, built for her, I suppose, by her incredibly handy husband. He had passed away a couple of years before we got married, though, so I guess she needed another one and it was up to her grandson, who had inherited her husband’s mechanical inclinations, to make one.
October 15, 2021
I can’t even with the DMV.
October 5, 2021
Sometimes it’s not the technology that malfunctions…