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Dear wonderful-couple-who-sold-my-fiance-and-me-a-washer-and-dryer-set-for-(garbeldy-gook-dollars)-or-best-offer-and-took-our-”or-best-offer”-happily-and-easily-and-who-brought-the-washer-and-dryer-to-our-apartment-just-to-be-neighborly-and-set-them-up-for-us-without-us-asking-and-chatted-with-us-and-wished-us-well,

Thank you. You cannot know how much I was cherished by doing business with you. It occurred to me that you might be angels, but I will never know for sure, because even if I went back to your place to check, you would be gone; you have moved by now. I wish you all the best wherever and whoever you are.




Dear Heartbleed Virus Bug Thing,

I have changed my passwords and reset my resets and deleted many accounts I had forgotten I had. I’m reminded of the wild West. That fanciful and violent place, where everyone had their own gun and protected themselves with whatever force they needed. And how backwards and rough that seems now. How we look on those times and think how ineffective and dangerous it was. And I wonder if in ten years (or one), we will have measures in place that will cause us to look back on these times and say, “how wild and backwards we were. trusting our own passwords and memory and changing them all the time. and, oh, remember viruses? those were the worst!” Anyway, just some thoughts.

No polite closing given.


Dear Maytag Commercial (the one with the Maytag refrigerator running in place and calling the toaster lazy),

Thank you. For being funny. Because you gave me a break from the haze of stress and anxiety I find myself cloaked in these days. When I tried to tell my fiance about you, I ended up acting you out—in the Target parking lot no less. I was running in place, running in place, my arms full of imaginary groceries, and I was calling the toaster lazy—and I was giggling and he was laughing and we were kissing, and for those few seconds, I felt like myself again.





Real estate being what it is here in wildly popular southern California, my fiance and i had to sign a lease 2 months in advance to get an apartment in a neighborhood that we wanted. (But we DID get what we wanted, and I am… Read More


precis no. 11

These days play out in staccato— dots, not lines, as I move from one thing to the next to the next— absent of apparent continuity. Featured image is “Dots” by Patrick G.

photo - Copy

makeovers in bulk

As amazing as it seems, sounds, and is, this week I got two makeovers that I have been long awaiting. The first is the makeover of this blog. I’ve been searching for some time now for a theme that I felt really suited this blog,… Read More