Put away your black armbands, everyone. I am not dead. In fact, I have been relatively alive this entire time… just not online. As it turns out, real life has been/is far more interesting and fun than its virtual counterpart. That’s not to say that I have forsaken my online life, just that I have been busy with other things. It’s not personal, internet.*
That said, I fully intend to post with more regularity than Haley’s Comet sightings by a Yeti. That’s a promise!
See you soon.
Her life devoid of any joy or human interaction, Helen settles in with a cup of coffee to wait until Mike’s next blog post. That extra flavor in her coffee, you ask? Oh, those are tears.
*For a few of you, it’s actually incredibly personal.
Ericka and the rest of the staff over at Tipsy Lit were kind enough to publish another piece of mine.
The great thing about posting on someone else’s blog is that the lawsuits regarding plagiarism (and, oh, there will be many) inevitably are brought against them. So, again, a BIG thanks to Tipsy Lit for that one.
Yet another Tipsy Lit author tricked into bathing with the help of booze.
It was my parents’ 17th anniversary, a night for outward ‘I-love-you’s and inward ‘what-was-I-thinking’s. These anniversary dinners out as a family were standard: eat something expensive, maybe have dessert, then my parents might dance to prerecorded entertainment or a sullen piano player.
Little could any of us have known that, that night we would all be dancing…
Dancing, that is, with a partner named Death!
When he’s not terrorizing my family, Death enjoys choreographing routines for the local cheerleading squad. This might be the year they go to the tri-state finals!
Without my grandmother, I never would have learned common Italian phrases such as:
I love you, Grandma!!! *
* exclamation marks inserted for both excitement and so that she can hear it.
Here she is mocking the youth of Mickey Mouse.
Generally, maturation is defined by a person’s reaching a physical and emotional “growing up”–the result of experiencing and benefitting from life’s innumerable lessons and, ultimately leading to each of us becoming the best us we can be.
As kids, we sponge-up as much information about life as we can because it is, from a basic primal instinct, required for all of us to survive. Such things as language, memory, why that thing is okay to touch, why that thing hurts, what that other thing even is exactly and why does eating it cause dizziness and an ability to hear colors. Without this necessary evolution of our individual selves, humans as a species would have long ago gone the way of the DoDo (not the bird, but the 1931 off-Broadway show about talking hair do’s that subsequently closed after only two weeks due to the smash success of the neighboring, less insistent musical, TryTry).
Doris Jenkins in her final performance as Hattie the Hairpin, one day before her suicide
Growing up, I learned at a normal, healthy, socially acceptable Continue reading