It was on my shoulder, and it was bugging me, one shiny sequin that I’d failed to see when I’d cut them off my second-hand sweater. It was a blue and green floral, found in a thrift store, hardly worn, but the sequins dated it to the 80s. So I’d cut them off, except for… Continue reading The Sequin That Bugged Me
Category: high school
Dive Bar Dancing
(re-run) I never imagined that I’d still be dancing in bars at this age. But hey, a girl’s got to dance, and in the winter the live music is in the bars. So here I sit, waiting for my girl friend, who is dumping her grumpy guy tonight to come dance with me. She’s got… Continue reading Dive Bar Dancing
Q is for Quirky
(re-run) When I was in high school and bought some of my clothes at the DAV thrift store, they called me quirky. When I made a cool pair of bell bottom jeans out of my dad’s old work pants, they called me quirky, but they also asked me where I got them. When I broke… Continue reading Q is for Quirky
The Neighbors, the Pit Bull, and the Daily Pooper
(re-run) We bought a house on a street that was a long court with two courts coming off of it. We were up at the top, and it was a great and safe place for my kids to walk our greyhound mix dog. Until it wasn’t. “That was a short walk,” I said when they… Continue reading The Neighbors, the Pit Bull, and the Daily Pooper
The Tennis Shoe and the Broken Window
(re-run) It was senior year in high school. I was on my last semester of PE, my least favorite class. I maintained a straight-A average in all other classes. Not PE. It alternated between a B and a C. I was feeling good. We were in our next-to last unit, the physical fitness award. I… Continue reading The Tennis Shoe and the Broken Window
C is for Choices
Life is a series of choices: what to eat for breakfast, what college to go to, which person to marry, whether to see the cup half full or half empty. It’s much easier to look back at life and say what choices were good or bad. Whatever they were, they got you to where you… Continue reading C is for Choices
Belly-up Beetle
(re-run) Curtis drove a1969 vintage Volkswagen Beetle. George, his wing man, brought the weed. They’d met their dates at a party. Stacy and Camille went to San Leandro High. Curtis and George went to Castro Valley. Curtis liked Camille. George got Stacy. They all partied at a friend of a friend’s house in Oakland until… Continue reading Belly-up Beetle
Chuck’s Drive-in Movie Date
(re-run) Chuck drove his powder blue Bonneville Pontiac to pick up his new girlfriend for their drive-in movie date during his senior year of high school. He had tricked out the interior of the car with his two taxidermy quail on a bed of shag carpeting in the car’s back window. When he drove his… Continue reading Chuck’s Drive-in Movie Date
Writing It Down
(re-run) Yesterday, as I drove up the freeway to BART, where I would meet two girlfriends and one of their daughters to go to the city to see Hamilton again, I was composing my blog post, out loud, in the slow lane. I was on a roll, phrasing each sentence to perfection as other drivers… Continue reading Writing It Down
Get Some Facetime
(re-run) As I stepped into the waiting room of my chiropractor’s office, three women and one guy were looking down at their cell phones, sitting in a symmetrical pattern amongst the u-shaped chairs. Feeling giddy from my fifty-five minute massage I said,” Well, this looks like a blog post to me! You’re all on your… Continue reading Get Some Facetime
