In 1981, while conjugating the verb être in French class – my vision blurred. I blinked… blinked again. I then stuck the tips of my middle fingers into my eyes, discovering an abundance of eye guck loitering beneath my eye balls. rheum noun ˈrüm : a watery discharge from the mucous membranes especially of the eyes or nose…
Driiiiiiiiip. Driiiiiiiiip. Driiiiiiiiip. Fuck. Nope. No, I am not going to look. I don’t need to look, because that problem has been solved. The leaky roof above of our kitchen ceiling has been fixed. IT. HAS. BEEN. FIXED. Driiiiiiiiip. Driiiiiiiiip. Driiiiiiiiip. For the love of… I square my shoulders and stand up. I walk over…
WARNING: Colourful language in this post. Fact: My internal thermostat is fucked. I’ve dealt with hot flashes since the age of 36. But the night sweats? The truly disgusting, sleep-annihilating, life-altering, make-you-feel-like-you-have-malaria… Wait. Maybe it’s not night sweats. Maybe it’s malaria. It’s January. In Canada. There are no mosquitos. Maybe it’s COVID… again. Cue rapid…
warning: BIG time bad words in this post. Aphasia nounapha·sia | ə-ˈfā-zh(ē-)ə medical : loss or impairment of the power to use or comprehend words etymology: mid 19th century: from Greek, from aphatos ‘speechless’ *** Rissa and I stand in the checkout line at a Craft/Antiques Barn. Neither crafts nor antiques will be purchased….
I’m at the kitchen table playing word games on my laptop. I have my Google timer set for 6.5 minutes of cool down. Cool down time is vital to surviving a HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training) workout. Otherwise, you’re still sweating IN the shower. And you continue to sweat AFTER you’ve finished the shower. Freshly…
David, Rissa and I are in a charming French restaurant in Baldwin Village. Red walls. Black baseboards. Brilliant yellow door. Art everywhere. We choose to sit inside. You know, because of the art. Instead of facing the wall displaying the larger artwork, my vista will be the opposite wall; the unexpected opportunity to gaze upon…
WARNING: SO MUCH FEMALE STUFF In the summer of 1997, David held my hand as I sat at the triage desk of the local hospital. He looked concerned. I looked like I was going to pass out. The nurse looked wiser than Nicodemus from the Secret of NIMH. “Are you a new couple?” she asked,…
“You’ve what?” asks Rissa, slightly laggy on her end of the video call. “Who have you been talking to? What did you do?” “Nothing,” I say. “I think it’s just my age.” “It’s what? What do you mean it’s your age?” “I think you just get to a certain age and…” “You think there are…
This week (and it’s only Monday – it’s only MONDAY?!?), I find myself wondering what caused She-Hulk’s transformation from regular woman-about-town, to big green rage monster. ‘Cause I’ve had three instances today where I found myself fighting to maintain my equilibrium between rationality and absolutely losing my shit. This morning, I’m moving from the bathroom…
“Prrrrrrowl?” “Prrrrrrrowwl??” “Prrrrrrrrrowwwl??” My eyes open. “Prrrrrrowl?” Why am I even surprised? Lola had been staring at the bottom of the refrigerator when we went to bed. “Prrrrrrrrrrrowl?” That’s the sound of a cat with its mouth full of mouse. “PAH!” Bat. Bat-Bat. Bat-Bat-Bat-Bat. And that is the sound of a cat playing with a…