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 Benefits of a Hard Childhood

My childhood friend from Iowa called the other day. As we were comparing notes about our dysfunctional childhood households (hers with physical abuse, mine verbal), she mentioned the immigrant caravan at the border. “What are going to do about that?” she said. “Let in the women and children,” I said.  “I’m not sure about the… Continue reading The Benefits of a Hard Childhood

Get Some Facetime

As I stepped into the waiting room at 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 phones!”… Continue reading Get Some Facetime

The Escape Artist

When my son was born, he came out angry, two weeks early and mad as hell. “He looks like a prosecutor,” the nurses said. Fast forward two years. He wouldn’t hold my hand while walking to and from the car. He wouldn’t hold my hand in parking lots. He was always running away inside of… Continue reading The Escape Artist

Behind Closed Doors

I read a great memoir about a girl’s tough childhood, with violence, danger, and an abusive older brother. I recommended it to Facebook friends online. A friend said she didn’t like it because she didn’t think the book rang true. “The Mormon part or the survivalist part?” I asked her. “Neither.” She didn’t think anyone… Continue reading Behind Closed Doors