Tag: kinda crazy

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on suggesting a gerontologist

what’s the sound of two edies talking?   Me: Ma, I just think it’s time to…

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the edies

I don’t want to think it is, but it is. it’s us. on the inside,…

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mirror rorrim

    There are days I wake up and I don’t recognize the face in…

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hair today

Ma: You’re hair looks good, did you do something?

photography

big edie & the camera

To this day, you point a camera in her direction and my mother’s shoulders go…

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because I don’t want to

what’s the sound of two edies talking? If a boy wants you to do something,…

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“My mother taught me to fight”

Source: Uploaded by user via Daphne on Pinterest

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in the beginning, there was my little mommy

My mother was born on Friday the 13th, except it was a Thursday. Don’t bother…

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feeding the beast within

All my life –seriously, all my life, and that is considerable at this point, all…

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thirty years later…

I had to take a little time off from the “other” blog, from writing in…

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and some day, never comes…

Some days I’m all Kumbaya Some days I’m all Fight Club Some days I’m all…

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ode to my depression

Alcohol was my answer to The Depression. My first answer. It worked for a while,…

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trash menagerie

My head used to house seventeen screaming squirrels. They were totally over-caffeinated and raucous, climbing…

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memento

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I yelled at my mother once. I stole…

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peeing on my own leg

I’ve had to let go of resentments that aren’t in my best interest. I’m not…

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help me, I’m moulting….

July is my month. I celebrate both a birthday & an anniversary of what I…

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today is the first day of the rest of my unemployment…

In the general theme of be careful what you wish for,  two weeks ago I…

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thin skins & tender hearts

Therapy Guy is back from vacation. Now I have a safe place to cry instead…

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goat mind

Something has changed. I’ve caged the squirrels, quieted my monkey mind and let disorder take…

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waiting to exhale

I’m on sensory overload.              I spent a week out in the country, up to my…

memoir

in the name of the father…

How is it so easy to write about my mother, and so hard to write…

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if it’s not one thing, it’s your mother

Mother’s Day. Growing up we never made a big deal about those made-up Hallmark holidays….

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after the rain

            two weeks. two thursdays. no tears.

memoir

happily never after

I don’t know about little boys, hell, it becomes more and more apparent each day…