My parents showed up to my art school graduation just in time to catch me finishing off a joint in front of the writers’ building. That should sum it up, but there’s more. The processional was a parade of costumes and nudity and debauchery not heretofore seen, a cornucopia of bongs carved from fruit travelled the graduate seating area like the wave through stands of … Continue reading Art School (or, my slow decline into suburban momhood)
Some days I really miss art school. Continue reading This will make sense on Sunday (I hope)
This change in my life is perhaps no more apparent at any other time than on Sundays. I think of my Sundays now, of playing with the baby, of keeping her (and me) in pajamas until after breakfast, of long mornings and short afternoons. I think of my long Sunday run and my short walk into town, maybe to the park with the stroller or … Continue reading Sundays.
They gave me a promotion but took away my window. I’d rather have kept the window. Continue reading I wish I had a window.
This week was the first week of classes for the spring semester. New beginnings, new people, new professors, new class schedules. I, too, am new this semester, or at least newly returned to the pursuit of yet another advanced degree (without those letters after my name I suppose I’d be like a car salesman riding a bicycle). What’s really new this time around, though, is … Continue reading Expired ID
Dear Weekend, Please come soon. We miss you. Love, Anna, Koukla, and Cookie Bear. Continue reading Dear Weekend…
It used to be so easy for me to self identify as a feminist. Ten years ago I knew nothing about feminist theory, exhibited no form of activism, and knew nothing about the contemporary or historical feminist movements, but I was determined that my feminist stripes could not be questioned. I lived alone and I liked living alone. I didn’t need a man to hammer … Continue reading It’s okay if she wears pink.