Everybody Hurts
I missed my flight to Boston yesterday. It was accidentally on purpose. I think I convinced myself that if I missed my flight, I wouldn’t have to go to Boston, … Continue reading
Sexual Healing
I haven’t blogged in a while. I want to appear cheery and well-adjusted, and I’ve been irritated, annoyed, disgruntled and exasperated. Until today, the only thing I’d written since July was … Continue reading
Nirvana, Plugged In
I don’t have a great memory. When I was a kid, I would forget how to walk home from school, and if and when I finally arrived there, I’d … Continue reading
Crazy in Love
On Valentine’s Day 2014, I did the unfathomable and had dinner with my cousin Rick and his then-fiance, Annie. I knew it wasn’t a great idea. Unabashed in … Continue reading
I Cringe, Therefore I Am
Back in the punk rock days of early 80s Boston, there was always a reason to go out. There were shows, parties, and after-parties, and if nothing else was going … Continue reading
Here Comes the Regular
I thought that since I posted about aging a few months ago, it was too soon to write about it again. But then I checked my archives and found out … Continue reading
A Decidedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again
A month ago, after I discovered the photos I’d left in my storage space, I posted a photo on my Facebook wall of me and Eddie Vedder in Amsterdam. I … Continue reading
This Is My Confession
When my friend Nancy asked what was going on with my memoir, I told her I wasn’t writing it. I waited for her to ask why — it was a … Continue reading
A Remembrance of Things Past, and the Lack Thereof
I’ve been avoiding going to my storage space since August of 2010, when I moved (or “moved”) to Australia. I was convinced that the evidence of my former life would … Continue reading
Just Checking In, or Still Fucked, But Less So
I didn’t make a decision to stop posting back in February, or even to take a break. Time just got away from me, as it tends to do, and … Continue reading
My Back Pages
I wrote once before that I’d tell anyone anything except how much I weighed. It’s not true. I won’t tell anyone that I was molested in nursery school. It’s … Continue reading
Red Carpet Rules and the Ghosts of Grammys Past
I started this blog on February 13, 2011, known as Grammy Sunday to marketers the world over. I was at my Dad’s house, parked on a gray carpet, blogging away … Continue reading
