An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation


The first therapist I ever saw was in the rainy Memphis February of 1993, a month after my first boyfriend broke up with me. I was somewhat upset about the break-up, particularly when I found out that he had been telling his friends that the…

November 8, 2004

And the house on the sand went SPLAT!

On the way home from my mother’s house last night (no limp dick windshield wiper this time!) Jon and I passed an open field that we used to drive the truck in. It sits at the foot of what’s called “point of the mountain,” the…


There is something heartbreakingly humbling about attending a family gathering where a 13-year-old niece has bigger boobs than I’ve ever had including the ones I had during the second month of breastfeeding.