Author of the novel WHEN YOU LOSE CONTROL

Rip, Matthew Perry. You will be so missed. Your openness about your struggles were so honest and I'm sure helpful to many with the same demons. Your comedic coming was unmatched and Chandler Bing is one of the best TV characters of all time. You are gone too soon. 

Now, they will have the daughter they have always wanted.  The attic was cramped, overstuffed, with belongings scattered all over. 

"It's leafing! Woah, it's leafing out," yelled the kids as crinkly brown leaves rained down on their heads. The sun was bright but low, and the air smelled of rusty pine needles. Soon, the sky would be dark at this time of day, and we'd be around the fireplace, looking out. 

...at this time, so many things were happening. Big things. Big changes. Flutterings. Dreams coming true. There was so much hoping and wishing and pining. Lots of sadness regarding what I didn't think could ever happen. But it did. Oh, did it happen. It opened up everything and turned the world right side up. Joy. 

It's the hand on my lap And the cuddles at night It's a beautiful gap And how our laughter's like sunlight  It's the unwavering support  And everything you are each day It's the flutter you make me feel, in short And the love that I'm blessed to have come my way

I am published in two different books within two months! My latest poem is in the Quabbin Quills Anthology called Our Wild Winds (page 126), and my first novel comes out on December 7! Feeling pretty good about my writing endeavors these days. 

Today marks one year of writers' group. One year of a life-changing gathering. One year of community, creating, discussion, and love. So blessed to have this in my life. 

Power-hungry douchebags who want to harm rather than help are the worst kind of woman. Fuck you so, so much, evil __________. Thank the universe for best friends who are the best kind of woman, with unconditional love and support. Truly angels. 

October, you can really suck ass sometimes. Like, a lot.  Happy birthday was written on the window, not in reality. 

The thick black eyeliner makes her feel pretty and powerful.  It was the ugliest lamp she'd ever seen. Bump. Shatter.

My cat Loki passed away this morning. He got sick toward the end. He's the third cat I've had to say goodbye to, and the second to die in my arms. I'm thankful we got eight days with him and for the unwavering support and love, I'm receiving. Rest well, my dear little gentleman.  

A stack of books to read. An iced coffee on the windowsill.  Laying my head on a lap. 

Ooh, that's ugly. Not a fan. Next, please. Next. Next. ADHD and anxiety make for a special kind of tiredness.  You are the crossroads of warmth, and happiness, and love. 

If Janis had lived, she would've been 80 this year. It taints so much, this permanent stain, popping up again. Hiding in the dust and shadows, what does it mean? 

Rackets are for tennis balls only; it's not a sword.  Those overpriced cars aren't the flex you think they are.  The 'problems' of the privileged are certainly a different perspective.