Ever since I made my own napkins, I’ve considered making my own hankies or tissues. This is the part where I think that anyone who knows me and has heard me blow my nose just felt their tummies twirl as if they were on a rollercoaster. But the thing is my nose blowing is much… Continue reading This might be gross…
In an open letter to the staff person who seemed to be on duty near the deli,
“So, maybe you were on a break. I don’t know. But that’s none of my business. The part that is my business is that you sauntered over to the other side of the counter and took a few samples…with your gloves on. That’s where my objection comes in. If you’re gonna eat with your gloves […]
In an open letter to the word huckster,
“You are so very underused. I’m going to work toward your revival.”
In an open letter to the hair that had invaded her chin,
“It’s not exactly that I hated you. Actually, you could have stayed if I hadn’t found myself tugging on and playing with you absently as I completed other tasks. Once you were plucked, I realized that you were closing in on an 3/4 of an inch in length. I’d say, then, that we had a […]
In an open letter to her son on his birthday,
“Ten years ago today, I waited to meet you in the hospital as I watch 40th anniversary coverage of the Kennedy assassination. I am so proud of the person you’re turning out to be. Happy birthday!! And, yes, I love you more than I love LBJ.”
In an open letter to Gerald Ford,
“I have been thinking this ever since I visited Grand Rapids. You really knew how to wear a suit. Also, you knew how to bald gracefully, a sign of your character in an age of hair.”
Pumpkin Pie Blondie
I am determined to experience the seasons. I love, love, love summer, and want to make sure that I don’t spend the years waiting and pining for summer and then ignoring what is nice about the other seasons. One thing that I like about the fall season is the abundance of pumpkin-related treats. I’m serious.… Continue reading Pumpkin Pie Blondie
Like a caramel apple
In an open letter to Jay Z,
“I only ask because I think you’re an expert on this topic. Is there any such thing as medium pimpin’?”
In an open letter to the police officer that almost caused me to run up on a nearby curb,
“I don’t get to say this often, but you were working those polyester pants.”